Evolving My Undead Legion In A Game-Like World

Chapter 490: Chapter 490 Alchemist and Cultivation World

—There’s also something else. Body cultivation.

Michael perked up at that.

—While qi cultivators refined energy, body cultivators refined flesh. They turned their muscles into steel, bones into jade, skin into armor. They could walk through fire, tear apart giants, or survive fatal wounds.

—Then there’s professions too. Formation Masters. Spirit Talisman Makers. Alchemists.

Michael’s brow twitched.

Alchemists.

He suddenly thought of someone from his past—someone with a strange class. A classmate.

Mia.

Her class had been exactly that—Alchemist.

And now, it seemed likely that it was related to this world.

If that were true… then her class should be quite powerful.

Michael couldn’t help but think of her—Mia—and wonder how she was faring in the ongoing college exams.

Had she already reached Rank 2? And if so… how far into it was she?

He doubted she was stronger than him.

But if she was—

She was a different kind of monster.

Michael tapped the desk slowly, thoughts falling into place.

In any case, there was so much to explore.

Spirit roots. Qi. Body refinement. Professions.

If Ace or Lia had even a trace of that potential…

It could very well change everything.

Not just for him. But for them as well.

Michael’s thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door.

He wasn’t startled—he’d already sensed their presence before they arrived.

“Enter,” he called calmly.

The door creaked open, and Ace and Lia stepped inside.

Compared to how they looked just an hour ago—lost, anxious, worn—they now held themselves with more confidence. Their hair had been combed, their clothes looked fresh, and even their expressions had steadied somewhat.

It seemed they’d taken the time to clean up. Perhaps they were trying to make a good impression. Or maybe they simply wanted to look presentable in front of their lord.

They assumed he’d summoned them for some manor-related task, and tension crept back into their shoulders.

Michael said nothing for a moment, simply staring at the two.

Then, finally, he asked, “Do you want power?”

Both boys stiffened.

How could they not want it?

Setting aside the allure of supernatural abilities—the speed, strength, healing, senses—there was also the promise of long life. Power meant a lot of things.

And in their case… power meant revenge.

Their sister’s death had never truly healed. Not in their hearts.

They didn’t talk about it much anymore, but the noble who caused it still walked free, protected by his name and influence. Power was the only thing that could change that. Power was justice.

But even with all that desire, they hesitated.

Not because they didn’t want it—but because they didn’t think they were qualified to reach it.

Lia’s fists trembled slightly, nails digging into his palms. “It’s not that we don’t want power,” he said quietly, voice strained. “We do. But…”

He looked down, struggling to find the words.

Ace stepped forward, bowing his head slightly with more composure. “During our time in the capital, training in the dojo… we learned just how weak we are. Just how little talent we really have.”

He lifted his eyes, meeting Michael’s gaze. “It’s not that we’ve given up. We’re just… aware now. Of our limits.”

Michael leaned back in his chair, watching them both with a neutral expression.

Then he spoke, voice low but firm.

“What if I told you I could give you power?”

The room fell silent.

Ace blinked. Lia’s eyes widened.

Michael didn’t smile.

He simply let the weight of his words settle in the air.

“There are risks,” he added, finally breaking the silence.

That single phrase instantly cooled the sparks of excitement that had lit up in the boys’ eyes. Caution replaced hope. Doubt crept in.

Ace hesitated, his brows furrowed. Lia looked down, his hands tightening into fists. The flicker of eagerness that had begun to bloom in their expressions faltered.

But not for long.

Lia stepped forward.

It wasn’t dramatic. He didn’t raise his chin or puff out his chest. He just moved, lips pressed into a hard line, eyes shining with a grim, quiet fire.

Because for him, this wasn’t just about revenge. It wasn’t pride or ambition.

It was personal.

His blood sister had died. It wasn’t some far-off tragedy or story he’d heard in the slums. It was his story.

He had lived with that loss—watched Ace carry it too, like a second spine—but unlike Ace, she wasn’t adopted in his heart. She was his. Flesh and blood.

If he didn’t have the guts to risk everything for power now, then what right did he have to curse the nobles who’d stolen her life?

Lia gritted his teeth. “I’ll do it.”

Michael’s eyes flickered with a glint of approval.

Ace looked at Lia, stunned. A moment passed.

Then he stepped forward too, slower, more reluctant—but with resolve nonetheless.

“…Then so will I,” he said, voice steadying as he glanced at his friend. “I can’t let you carry everything alone.”

Michael’s gaze lingered on them both.

Brave.

Loyal.

Willing to walk into the unknown—just like he’d hoped.

Michael’s impression of the two deepened into something close to respect. They weren’t talented, but they were willing—and that, in his eyes, held more value than raw aptitude.

He made a silent promise.

Even if neither possessed spirit roots… even if they were entirely ordinary… he would train them. The knight system of Aurora didn’t rely on spiritual roots like cultivators did. With enough resources—it was possible to “power-feed” someone into strength.

Not to the peak.

But far enough to have good strength.

There was only so much resources could do.

Still, there was no harm in checking.

As the boys waited in silence, Michael mentally linked with Jester through their spiritual bond. Check them. See if either of them has a spirit root.

—Mm. I suppose I can try. Don’t expect much, though.

A moment passed. Jester’s aura pulsed faintly—an invisible sweep like sonar rippling out. Then—

—Huh.

Michael straightened. What?

—I didn’t expect this, but… the blond one{Ace} has one.