Evolving My Undead Legion In A Game-Like World

Chapter 523: Unique Existences

Michael’s vision cleared as the golden particles of the slain Hunter faded away into nothing.

A crisp notification flashed across his panel.

[+1 Attribute Point to All Stats]

His chest rose and fell in a slow breath. But inwardly, a small sigh of relief escaped him.

So I was right.

The rules for Freemen had been clear: Each Hunter slain grants +1 to all attributes. But clarity didn’t always mean certainty.

He had gambled on the participant’s role, and his gamble had paid off.

The corner of his mouth tugged faintly.

Michael dismissed the panel and raised his eyes again to the terrain.

Like the others, he had a map. It hung before him in faint, translucent light. But unlike the Hunters or the Hunted, his was almost blank. No golden trails. No crimson dots. Just the vague outline of the cliffs and ridges around him.

Freemen were blind apparently.

When Michael designation first appeared—Freeman—the rules had been sparse. “Each Hunter slain grants +1 to all attributes.” Simple. But no word on what would happen if he killed a Hunted. Or another Freeman. Nothing.

He had taken a chance. If the boy he had cut down had been anything other than a Hunter, he might just trigger something instead of Instant elimination.

He hadn’t been willing to let the chance he spotted from the top of the cliff slip away. A kill was strength. And strength was the only thing keeping him from being trampled here or exposing his current qualities as a necromancer.

This time, the gamble ended well.

Even so, the unknown gnawed at him.

What happens if I cut down the wrong person next time?

Michael dismissed the glowing text and focused on his surroundings.

Like the others, he had a map. It hovered faintly in the air, translucent and ghostly. But where Hunters and Hunted saw their prey or pursuers marked in bright sigils, his was almost bare. Just vague outlines of terrain.

Michael eyes scanning the fog-draped valleys below. From his spot, he could see little more than a restless tide of gray shifting between broken stone. Somewhere in that haze, four hundred and ninety-nine other participants were moving.

But he didn’t know where.

His fingers tightened around the spear.

If everyone’s map looks like this… then this challenge just got harder.

For now, only those given roles knew what they truly entailed. Hunters had glimpses of their targets. Hunted had glimpses of their predators. And Freemen… they had freedom, yes. But also ignorance.

When the round advanced, when the system cycled the roles—only then would the others begin to understand the different perspectives.

Thinking back to the boy he’d just cut down, Michael flicked his panel open again.

[Active Participants: 498]

His eyes narrowed.

Two were gone.

That meant it wasn’t just him.

Before my role switches, I need to rack up a few more kills.

The challenge rules were clear.

At certain intervals, roles would rotate. If that happened before he’d built up enough strength, he could easily be the one marked crimson, ten Hunters bearing down on him like hounds.

Michael shifted his stance, body lowering as he prepared to descend the cliffside.

Unbeknownst to him, thanks to coming to the spotlight early, his movement was still being broadcast to the world.

The professor and reporters spoke over the feed, filling the silence with words about cultivation. But in the background, Michael and Brian figure remained on screen.

On the screens, two figures shifted through the mist.

Selene leaned in toward her monitor, her sharp eyes catching their movements immediately. Her voice carried a spark of excitement.

“Professor, it seems these two aren’t slowing down. Both Michael Norman and this other participant… Brian, I believe… are pressing forward. Look at that speed. This virtual space looks pretty huge too.”

Darius tapped his pen against the desk. “Speaking of which, let’s not forget—all of these youths are awakeners. Professor, could you explain for the audience just how awakeners grow so powerful? What exactly makes them so unique compared to, say, cultivators?”

The camera pivoted to Professor Veylin. He adjusted his glasses, the reflection of the screen shimmering across his lenses. His voice was calm but carried the weight of a lecture hall.

“A fine question,” he said.

Professor Veylin gaze swept between Selene and Darius.

“Tell me,” he said softly, “what do you two know of awakeners?”

Selene straightened, her poise returning as she answered carefully.

“Awakening happens between the ages of sixteen and eighteen. That window is fixed—once it closes, a person can no longer awaken. And those who do awaken… they gain a class. Their class is what grants them their unique power. It’s what allows them to level up, to increase their stats, as if they were characters in a game.”

Darius added, gesturing lightly toward the screens.

“And there’s another piece—that awakeners are able to carry their consciousness into a mysterious realm—a world only they can enter.

Veylin inclined his head, lips curving faintly. “Correct. That is the essence of an awakener. And that is why they are unique. Unlike cultivators, who must endure layers of refinement, bottlenecks, and painstaking comprehension before any growth… awakeners simply fight, kill monsters, and grow. Their strength rises as naturally as breathing.”

He paused, adjusting his glasses. His eyes glimmered faintly behind the lenses.

“It is as though they were blessed. Awakeners are given a path that—at least in their early stages—is straightforward. Progress is quicker. The growth curve is sharper.”

Selene frowned slightly. “So are you saying their power is… unearned?”

“Not unearned,” Veylin corrected, his tone firm. “Because past a certain stage, awakeners face the same truth as everyone else: strength must be bought with effort, with talent, with sacrifice. The difference is in the beginning. Where cultivators struggle for years to master the basics, awakeners can master them instantly.”

His hand gestured subtly toward the frozen image of Michael’s earlier strike.

“A cultivator might train a decade to reach perfection in a martial art, or years to stabilize a spell. But an awakener?” His smile sharpened. “Their system may grant them mastery in an instant. That… is why they are valued so highly.”