Evolving My Undead Legion In A Game-Like World

Brian turned to Michael with a sideways glance. "So," he said, "have you gotten used to your new self yet?"

Michael paused. He knew exactly what the old man was asking.

"I think I have," Michael said slowly. "There are still things I'm learning though..."

Brian grunted.

He didn't seem to care much but he still decided to drop an advice for Michael.

Brian's smirk faded into something more contemplative. "You don't even know how lucky you are, do you?"

Michael frowned. "You mean because of the race change?"

Brian nodded. "Yeah. High Humans have an absurd relationship with mana. You're not just more efficient—you breathe the stuff. It responds to you like it's eager to help. Where most people have to force mana into cooperation, you just think it, and it listens."

Michael narrowed his eyes. "That explains a few things…"

"But that's not all." Brian leaned against a nearby boulder, arms crossed. "You've also got the physical side. Strength that puts most warriors to shame—comparable to beastkin and titans, though not quite at their peak. Still, easily stronger than elves in raw power. Not as flexible, but in a straight fight? You'd break an elf in half before they blinked."

Michael absorbed the words.

"You're an Awakener now, too," Brian added, almost offhandedly. "Which means you've got that advantage of stats. You can grow just by dumping points into a panel. Add that to your High Human body, and you've got a shortcut most cultivators would kill for."

"I trained decades to push my body to its limits. You Awakeners? You can catch up in months. Your body adapts quicker. Muscle, reflexes, endurance—it all scales with your stats and training. And don't get me started on learning."

Michael's brows raised. "Learning?"

Brian gave a sharp nod. "Skill acquisition. Spells, techniques, martial arts—it all comes easier. Cultivators grind, bleed, suffer to master a single technique. But with your system? You get a skill, you train it a bit, and bam—you level it. Even the panel tracks it for you. It's like you have a tutor embedded in your soul."

Michael looked down at his hand, flexing his fingers slowly. "Then… I should start learning more spells."

"Exactly," Brian said, his tone almost approving. "Don't waste that mana pool of yours. You've got high efficiency, fast recovery, and you're surrounded by ambient energy that wants to serve you. A High Human with a system is like giving a god a blueprint to build faster."

He paused, then jabbed a finger at Michael's chest.

"But don't slack on the physical side either. Just because you're a mage doesn't mean you can ignore weapons."

Brian said flatly. "Get your weapon skill up. Sword, spear, staff—hell, even fists if you want. Raise one to Intermediate level at the very least. If someone closes the distance, you better not be the type who panics and dies."

Michael gave a slow nod.

It made sense.

He wasn't just a High Human.

He was an Awakener with a panel.

And that meant he didn't have the excuse most mages did.

He had to use both sides of his strength.

Magic and might.

And honestly?

That sounded exactly like the kind of path he wanted.

"Alright, kid. Enough lecturing for tonight."

Brian didn't wait for to say anything and wrapped his mana around Michael and his undead.

A few moments later Michael was already back in his community while the last words of Brian played in his ears.

"Come and see me tomorrow by noon."

Michael stood still for a moment, his undead gathering silently around him. The silence felt heavier now, like the night was holding its breath. He exhaled and turned, leading his undead back toward his building.

When he reached it, the sight stopped him cold.

A jagged gash had been torn into the side of his apartment building. One of the outer walls—his wall—was half-collapsed, concrete and rebar jutting like broken bones into the open air. It looked like something massive had simply torn its way through.

"Wait here," he muttered to the undead, raising a hand.

They froze on command, blank eyes tracking him as he jumped through the crumbled wall and into what used to be his living room.

His boots crunched over debris and he froze. But the thing that made him freeze wasn't the wreckage.

It was the four figures standing inside.

His aunt stood near the intact kitchen counter, arms crossed, a fury in her eyes that melted into relief the second she saw him. Beside her was Lily. Her eyes were red—most likely from crying.

And then, flanking them like silent sentinels, were the two undead Michael had left to protect them.

As expected the two immediately attacked him with concerned worries to which Michael took most of the night to take care of before everybody rested.

The next morning came and it was finally time for the family to mode to another city.

Well, not with Michael. Yet.

He helped with packing though.

The morning was a whirlwind of movement. Suitcases stuffed, boxes sealed, complaints muttered, and farewells repeated. Michael helped without saying much. His thoughts were elsewhere.

Soon, it came the time for departure.

His aunt hugged him twice before leaving. "You're sure about staying?"

"I have things to do," Michael said simply.

She didn't argue. Just nodded, as if she understood it in some instinctive way. Maybe she did.

The hours passed..

Then, when the sun hung high in the sky and noon struck—

He stood up and left.

The Supers Association's Trade Centre.

Brian turned as Michael approached, giving a curt nod. "Right on time."

The reason for their meeting was simple.

For Michael to receive the last of his order.

Thanks to Brian who Michael was sure did some things but not what and what, the armours and weapons Michael worried he wouldn't receive easily came quite easily in the end even after the chaos.

All thanks to Brian.

After taking his orders into his storage space, Michael exchanged words with Brian for a period of time until 30 mins later when Brian had to leave.

According to him he was done with woodstone city.

However before the other party could disappear Michael made sure to exchange contact.

Fortunately, Brian didn't seem to have an issue with this.

However he still disappeared without saying bye.

With nothing more to do in the Association, Michael made his way back home.

Back in his community he looked at his undead.

"Though late, I can still take you to the land of origin."

This was Michael plan.

All these undead were the one he couldn't summon at will.

Like the previous times he needed a place to hide and keep them for a while.

At least until he got to his new home in the new city.

Finding a concern Michael returned to the land of origin.

Ace and Lia weren't at home to which Michael was pleased with.

Though he didn't need to explain his actions to those two, not even having the opportunity to was oddly pleasing.

Easily Michael made his way out of the capital and on his undead griffin he returned to the spot he fought Spartan.

This was going to be his temporary base.

Well, with the help of lucky.

With familiar movements Michael started the journey of transporting all his undead to the land of origin.

When the final undead was secured and concealed beneath the makeshift camouflage of vines, Michael stood overlooking his creation.

Lucky perched on a jagged stone beside him, tail flicking lazily,.

"I know," Michael said quietly. "It's not ideal. But it'll do—for now."

The undead below were hidden deep underground, enchanted to remain still unless summoned. He couldn't afford them rampaging again, especially not near civilians or capital cities.

As he stretched his arms and released a long breath, a familiar sound echoed from behind—wind parting, wings flapping.

The griffin circled once before descending. Michael stepped onto its back and looked toward the horizon.

He leaned forward on the griffin, "Take me home."

The beast leapt into the air, wings slicing through the breeze, and as they soared over the dead forest and toward the gleaming capital in the distance.

The beast leapt into the air, wings slicing through the breeze, and as they soared over the dead forest and toward the gleaming capital in the distance

The ride was smooth, the griffin's wings cutting through the air.

When they reached the capital, they landed on the outskirts of the city.

Michael dismounted and collected his griffin into his storage space.

It wasnt had to enter the capital thanks to the guards recognising him.

Michael didn't make any detour and return to his house in the silver district of the outer city.

He knocked yet no response.

"Seems they're still not around."

Michael wasn't worried however.

It wasn't nighttime yet.

He opened the door with his key and entered.

He didn't waste time and went up to his room.

Laying on his bed, he reconnected his consciousness with his body in Aurora.