Evolving My Undead Legion In A Game-Like World

Chapter 527: Impressive Spell Casting

Michael’s steps slowed as the mist peeled back, revealing a lone figure across the jagged ridge.

Brian.

Recognition hit instantly.

He didn’t know him personally, had never exchanged more than a passing word in the academy, but he knew of him. Everyone did.

Brian wasn’t just another student. Even before his awakening, he’d already earned the title of a formal Knight. That alone had made him a prodigy.

Then he awakened—and got two classes.

If Michael knew it wasn’t actually two but three, he would’ve been speechless.

But there was no way for him to know unless Brian told him himself.

Using [Detect] on Brian would only reveal the class he received on Awakening Day and its level—not the hidden accomplishments that granted him the others afterward. And in this virtual space, there wasn’t even a way to use the actual [Detect] skill.

Seeing Brian, Michael’s brows furrowed.

Had it been any other awakener, he would have attacked without hesitation.

But this wasn’t just anyone.

This was Brian.

Even if they had never been close privately, they had once been classmates. That faint tether of familiarity made Michael hesitate.

In the end, he chose to turn away.

Of course, if the system had designated Brian as his hunted or hunter, Michael wouldn’t have even blinked before striking him down.

What past relationship with a classmate? Can it be eaten? No.

But where Michael let that thought soften his hand, Brian did not.

Outwardly, Brian carried himself like a humble.

But beneath that veneer ran the truth.

He was proud.

He was a proud and arrogant individual.

Proud of his bloodline, his background, his talent.

Even before his Awakening, he had advanced as an official mage and knight.

After awakening, he had three classes.

It wasn’t an exaggeration to say he was three awakeners in one body.

There weren’t many people Brian respected after that day. Why should he? He had what most dreamed of. Dual-class talent at worst. Triple-class reality at best. To him, others were tools.

Even Mira….. though she started to become something more to him.

Her talent was what initially attracted him. One that made her explosive creations double in destructive force. In her, he saw not just potential, but something desirable. Something worth claiming.

But all she ever spoke of was him.

Michael this. Michael that.

Brian’s jaw tightened as a sour taste filled his mouth. Was he so special? Was a necromancer so praiseworthy? Yes, it was a rare class. Yes, it was powerful. But who was he compared to Brian? He was nothing but a boy hiding behind undead puppets, wasn’t he?

Yet Mira’s eyes always seemed to follow that name. Always glowing when the subject turned to Michael Norman. Even after he changed cities for her, it was still the same thing.

Michael this. Michael that.

The worse thing was that Michael didn’t even seem to value anything with her.

Now here he was—standing across the fog, a spear in hand, calm stride carrying him forward like the world bent beneath his feet.

Brian’s eyes narrowed.

Seeing Michael did not make him happy.

It ignited something darker.

Michael turned away, ready to vanish back into the mist.

That was when the air behind him split with a sharp hiss.

Fwsshh!

A spear of fire, searing and bright, ripped through the fog toward him.

Michael twisted instinctively, Ghostwind Steps carrying him aside as the spear exploded against stone, shattering it into molten fragments. His eyes widened—but the relief was short-lived.

A second spear of fire came. Then a third. Then a fourth. Then a fifth.

One after another, streaks of crimson heat pierced the fog like relentless hunters, tearing into the terrain with explosive force.

Michael’s body blurred, weaving and twisting as each projectile missed him by inches, the heat licking against his skin, the shockwaves rattling his bones.

His jaw clenched.

It wasn’t the quantity alone that shook him—it was the way they had been cast. Smooth, seamless, one after another, without even a hint of a magic circle drawn.

Michael’s mind raced. What kind of system skill is this?

No… it didn’t feel like one. Not exactly. This rhythm wasn’t the same mechanical chain of a purchased system skill. It was… Polished.

Michael’s lips pressed thin as he ducked another blast, the rock wall beside him glowing molten red. Could it be…?

Brian’s figure stood through the mist, sword in one hand, but his other arm still outstretched—heat rippling at his fingertips. His expression was calm, eyes sharp, as though the barrage hadn’t cost him even an ounce of effort.

Michael’s heart thumped with something between frustration and disbelief.

He already knew these spells. Mastered them. To the point he no longer even needs to draw circles?

The thought chilled him more than the fire spears ever could.

Michael bit down hard, his steps darting, his body twisting as more fire streaked toward him.

For the first time since the trial began, Michael felt himself pressed back, forced into helpless evasion.

Michael twisted as another fire spear screamed past, close enough to burn a line across his cheek. His breath hissed out between clenched teeth.

“Hey! Why are you attacking me?!” Michael’s voice cut across the battlefield, ragged with disbelief.

The only answer he got was another spear of flame.

Brian stood through the haze, silent, sword gleaming faintly at his side while his other hand traced no circles, no seals—only the air itself seemed to bend at his will. Each movement was smooth, precise, the fire responding like an obedient beast.

Another spear roared out, exploding where Michael had been a heartbeat earlier.

“Damn it!” Michael cursed under his breath, Ghostwind Steps dragging his body like a phantom just beyond the explosions. The ground was breaking apart beneath him, the fog glowing orange with each detonation.

Why is he so powerful in spellcasting?

Michael remembered Brian had awakened as a [Fire Mage]. On top of that, he had a second class. But still—he was a new Awakener, just like Michael. The sheer refinement in his spell use was staggering.