Evolving My Undead Legion In A Game-Like World

Chapter 525: Is This A Necromancer

Michael’s lips pressed thin, eyes narrowing on the gray below.

His grip on the spear tightened. A single Hunter had given him a boost across all attributes. Three more would push his stats. It was tempting.

Michael exhaled slowly, the mist swallowing his breath.

Can I take them all?

If it was one-on-one, he had his confidence. Two-on-one? Risky, but manageable if he placed his cards right.

Three-on-one…

Michael felt a bit of irritation. If he could use his undead, he wouldn’t even be thinking of this and would have struck at first sight..

Unfortunately, he was currently in a crippled state.

Michael crouched lower, weighing the odds.

A frontal clash didn’t seem wise.

He wondered what he could do as he went through his list of abilities.

One plan was to use his summon skeleton skill to attract them but this plan had a lot of holes.

He figured a surprise attack would give the best results.

Michael’s fingers brushed against the air.

[Bone Armor — Activated]

A faint crackle rolled through his body as jagged plates of pale bone slid across his skin, forming a second layer beneath his clothes.

[Bull Strength — Activated]

[Iron Skin — Activated]

A metallic sheen rippled faintly across his flesh, bone and skin hardening into something more resilient.

[Limit Burst — Activated]

[Ghostwind Steps — Activated]

Michael slipped from the cliffside like a shadow untethered, his figure vanishing into the rolling fog. Every step bent the air, a whisper of motion too quick for untrained eyes to catch.

The three Hunters were close now.

Michael’s shadow melted into the fog.

The system flickered faintly before his eyes, tagging the classes of the three figures ahead.

[Knight ]

[Wind Mage]

[Knight]

Michael’s eyes narrowed. Two knights. Another mage.

His character thrummed with power.

This was his moment.

The knights were up front, shields raised, their heavy boots crunching stone in steady rhythm. Behind them, the mage moved with quick, sharp steps, robes swaying, a faint shimmer of wind magic swirling about his palms.

Michael didn’t give them the chance to spot him.

He erupted from the mist like a spear loosed from a bowstring.

The first knight barely managed to raise his shield before Michael slammed into him. The impact cracked bone and metal alike, Bull Strength twisting his muscles with monstrous force. The knight staggered back, shield dented—then Michael’s spear punched through his chestplate with brutal precision.

[Hunter Eliminated — +1 Attribute to All Stats]

Michael ripped the weapon free, spinning instantly. The second knight roared, blade flashing. Michael met it with his spear. His spear then darted low, smashing the knight’s knee.

The man collapsed with a guttural cry. Michael didn’t hesitate—he drove the spear down.

[Hunter Eliminated — +1 Attribute to All Stats]

The mage finally reacted, hurling blades of condensed wind that shrieked through the fog. Michael twisted, Ghostwind Steps carrying him sideways, the air tearing inches from his cheek. His eyes locked on the mage, cold and sharp.

The fight wasn’t over. The mage was already chanting again, the mist around him beginning to spin like a miniature storm.

Michael exhaled slowly, his grip steady.

Two down. One to go.

The mage’s hands blurred, wind blades screaming into existence one after another. Each crescent of compressed air cut through the mist with a sharp hiss, relentless, almost mechanical.

Michael’s eyes narrowed as he twisted away, Ghostwind Steps carrying him just past another blade that carved into the rock face with explosive force.

That casting speed… it’s too fast.

Michael’s lips pressed thin as realization struck.

A system skill. Has to be.

Michael exhaled, steadying himself. Then I’ll end it quick—from a distance.

His hand flicked, mana surging as he drew magic circles in the air.

[Magic Arrow]

A dart of glowing energy shot out, slicing through the mist toward the mage.

The wind caster dodged in an akward mana. But Michael wasn’t done.

[Acid Shot]

Globes of hissing liquid arced through the air, splattering against stone and sizzling holes through it. The mage stumbled sideways, cloak whipping as he tried to avoid the sizzling death raining down.

Michael’s hands shifted again.

[Bone Spear]

A jagged spike of pale white ripped through the mist, trailing mana as it hurtled toward the mage. The wind caster barely deflected it with a wind shield, his breath sharp with panic.

Michael felt the air pressure shift—another wind blade was coming.

[Mana Shield ]

A translucent dome flared into existence just as the crescent of air smashed against it, dispersing into sparks.

Michael’s eyes flashed. Now.

His arm drew back, spear shaft cold and steady in his grip. With all the strength of Bull Strength provided, he hurled it like a javelin.

The weapon cut the fog with a shriek, faster than an arrow. The mage’s lips parted, another spell rising—

—but the spear struck before the wind could take shape.

It tore through his chest with brutal force, pinning him against the jagged stone behind. The mage’s eyes were wide with disbelief before fading into golden particles.

[Hunter Eliminated — +1 Attribute to All Stats]

Michael didn’t move right away. His eyes lingered on the spot where the mage had fallen, then swept over the remains of the two knights. Their bodies had already dispersed—but not everything vanished.

A faint glimmer caught his eye. Small vials, rolling against the uneven stone.

Michael stepped closer, crouching. Four Health potions and four Mana potions.

He scooped them up without hesitation, tucking them into his belt pouch. He didn’t know how long this round would last, or how much more he’d have to burn through before the roles switched again. Potions meant survival.

Michael straightened, his gaze sweeping the mist again.

What he didn’t know—what he couldn’t know—was the shockwave his actions had sent through the real world.

The feed lingered on Michael as he bent to collect the potions, his figure half-shrouded by fog.

Selene’s voice cracked the silence in the studio. “Can we… can we play that again?”

The assistant producer didn’t even wait. The main screen split, replaying Michael’s ambush in slowed detail.

The audience gasped. Even slowed down, his acceleration was jarring. One instant, he was crouched in the mist—then he was inside the knights’ formation.