Evolving My Undead Legion In A Game-Like World-Chapter 888: Changes

The five from Veraunt’s Edge academy exclaimed with lingering fear and relief as they watched the new dark clouds in the sky vanish.

They didn’t know the cause. They only knew another tribulation had seemed ready to begin the moment the first one ended, and then nothing. The sky cleared and the oppressive weight lifted.

Even Arven was unusually quiet.

The moment Michael’s tribulation had ended, all five had teleported to his side. The reason was simple. Michael had drawn so much attention that right now, in the void above, people no weaker than them were eyeing him the way wolves watched a wounded elk.

Some they recognized immediately. Some they could not, either because they genuinely didn’t know them, or because the other party had chosen not to be known.

What worried them most was this: among the many watching, at least two were demonic supernaturals. The five did not doubt that if given the opportunity, those two would not hesitate to kill Michael.

The window on their watch was small, but windows were all assassins needed.

What they hadn’t expected was to nearly die in the process of protecting him.

One could not stand close to a person experiencing a lightning tribulation, or they’d share in the punishment. Even at their level they couldn’t risk proximity, and so they had kept their distance during Michael’s own.

They hadn’t expected for something terrifying to still be in wait.

Even though they didn’t know what had happened, fortunately nothing happened to them and that was all that mattered.

Michael didn’t know he had just saved the academy from losing at least one powerhouse.

Arven’s gaze remained on the sky for a moment longer, then it shifted downward to Michael.

Silence lingered between the five of them, heavy and unspoken. The tension from earlier had not quite faded. Arven finally spoke.

"That’s enough."

His voice was calm, but there was no room for argument.

"We’re taking him back. This is not a place for recovery," Arven continued. "Not with this many eyes on him."

His gaze flickered briefly toward the void.

One of the elders exhaled slowly.

"...Agreed."

Another nodded, his expression still tight.

"We’ve overstayed already."

Arven stepped forward and reached down. Space folded around Michael’s unconscious body, gently lifting him without direct contact.

Arven’s eyes flickered once more toward the sky, then space twisted.

Under the eyes of everyone watching, the five figures from Veraunt’s Edge disappeared.

It was as if they had never been there to begin with.

The ruined battlefield remained. The crater. The scorched land. The lingering "scent" of lightning. And the silent watchers in the void.

Some stared a moment longer, then one by one, they too withdrew.

And for the first time since the tribulation ended, the world grew quiet again.

For the next few days the surrounding regions fell into chaos.

Word spread faster than wildfire.

People came to the location of Michael’s tribulation to see just what had caused so much commotion days ago.

The numbers were not small.

Supernaturals flooded the area first. Rank Twos, Rank Threes, even a few Rank Fours arrived.

Then came the ordinary people. News channels. Curious rich civilians.

In Aurora, where the supernatural world was slowly becoming public after years of secrecy, anything even remotely related to it was explosive. And this was more than explosive.

Rumors spread wildly. Most of the time no one truly knew what had happened. Only a handful of individuals understood. The rest could only guess.

The crater itself became a landmark.

Far away from the chaos, within the protected grounds of Veraunt’s Edge, Michael lay unconscious on a bed in a dark room.

For three days he did not move.

His body lay still. If it wasn’t for the small flashes of light that erupted from his body every now and then, one would have feared the worst.

At times even the elders monitoring him frowned, as this situation was strange to even them.

On the third day, something finally shifted.

It was subtle. Barely noticeable. But in the quiet room, it was enough.

Michael’s fingers twitched, then his breathing changed. Slightly deeper. Slightly steadier.

A few moments later his eyes opened.

Slowly.

He did not move immediately. He just stared upward at the ceiling. Blank. Silent.

For a brief moment there was nothing in his gaze. No thought. No reaction. Just stillness.

Then his brows twitched slightly.

"...Tch."

Michael felt it was getting concerning with the way he lost consciousness nowadays.

His thoughts began to move again. Fragments of memory surfaced.

Lightning. Pain. Lily. The final strike.

"I lived."

Michael lay there for a few more seconds, then slowly, very slowly, he began to smile.

[Status]

[Name]: Michael Norman

[Rank]: 3

[Level]: 65

[Talent]: Infinite Evolution

[Gift]: Mark of Origin, Eye of Truth, Aurora’s Child

[Title]: First in History, Outlier, True Human, Mortal God (25%), The One Who Origin Acknowledged

[Class]: Lord Necromancer

[Attributes]

Strength: 1446.75 (410^)

Agility: 1598.71 (541^)

Constitution: 1885.92 (650^)

Intelligence: 2000.92 (600^)

Attribute Points: 400

Michael sucked in a mouthful of cold air. His breathing slowed slightly as he forced himself to process what he was seeing.

These numbers were not normal. Not even close.

Before this, before his Ascension, Michael already stood above most Rank Threes. He could fight late-stage Rank Three supernaturals and win.

But now his gaze lingered on the numbers.

Strength. Agility. Constitution. Intelligence.

Every single one of them had exploded.

Michael swallowed slowly.

"...How strong am I now?"

There was no answer, because even he didn’t know.

Michael slowly clenched his fingers. The air shifted. A faint ripple spread from his hand.

Michael’s eyes narrowed.

"...Right."

He relaxed instantly, releasing the tension in his muscles before it could build any further.

His control was not stable yet. If he had moved recklessly just now, even something as simple as clenching his fist, it might have caused damage. Not to himself, but to the surroundings.

Michael exhaled slowly.

"...Good thing I didn’t move earlier."

If he had woken up and tested his strength without thinking, there was a real chance he could have blown the entire room apart. Maybe worse.

Michael had already scanned the area with his senses and confirmed he was in his manor. It would have been a shame to damage his own roof.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​