Evolving My Undead Legion In A Game-Like World

Chapter 642: Confrontation [1]

She tilted her head slightly. “What are you thinking about?”

Brian blinked, pulled from his thoughts. For a moment, he seemed hesitant, as if unsure whether to speak, but then he sighed softly. “A youth,” he said at last. “Someone who caught my attention a while ago.”

Her brows arched in mild curiosity. For the Mad Phoenix to describe someone that way was unusual. “A youth?” she repeated. “Who is he?”

Brian didn’t see any harm in sharing. “He’s an Awakener.”

“An Awakener?” the Empress murmured, intrigued. “What class?”

“Necromancer.”

At that, her brows rose slightly. A Necromancer wasn’t a common Awakener class but it didn’t seem like it was enough to —

It was then she recalled something. Perhaps, Brian saw something similar in this youth?

However, this wasn’t a question to ask the Mad Phoenix directly.

“A Necromancer, you say?” she mused quietly. “And what makes him stand out? Has he shown any particular talent?”

Brian’s gaze grew distant.

Not wanting to talk about the true reason, he switched to something else that could satisfy the Empress’ curiosity.

“At first, I wasn’t sure. He seemed ordinary. But later, I found out he encountered a unique opportunity in the Land of Origin.”

“What kind of opportunity?” the Empress asked, her tone sharpening with interest.

“He became a High Human.”

The Empress’s eyes widened slightly. For the first time in the conversation, genuine surprise crossed her face. “A High Human?”

Brian nodded. “Yes. It seems the Land of Origin favored him. The transformation wasn’t incomplete either.”

The Empress fell silent, her expression thoughtful. High Humans were among the peak races in the known universe—equal to elves in potential and longevity, and far superior to most mortal species. Even within the void, they were considered noble and rare. For an Awakener from Aurora to ascend to such a race was extraordinary.

To think Brian would encounter someone like that… fate had a strange way of connecting paths.

She closed her eyes briefly, her mind already turning.

Her thoughts drifted to her favorite grandchild—a girl with a rare constitution and also an Awakener herself.

If that girl and this High Human youth were to meet…

Her lips curved ever so slightly, the faintest glimmer of amusement in her gaze. Perhaps then, she thought, my useless sons will finally be overshadowed by someone worthy.

A prodigy born from two extraordinary bloodlines.

Such a union might very well produce a being capable of standing where even she stood one day—at the Emperor Stage, or perhaps beyond.

The Empress looked back at Brian, her expression calm again. “Tell me more about this youth,” she said softly. “I would like to know what kind of person could leave such an impression on the Mad Phoenix.”

*

Michael sneezed.

He blinked and rubbed his nose, frowning slightly.

“Is someone cursing me behind my back?” he muttered under his breath.

After a moment, a small, knowing smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

If someone like that really existed… he already had a good idea who it might be.

Lira who was beside him, seeing his smile, thought of something else.

Lira glanced at him, a hint of curiosity flickering in her eyes. “Are you confident?” she asked suddenly.

Michael turned his head toward her, his smile deepening. “What do you think?”

She didn’t answer, but she didn’t need to. His calmness alone was an answer. Michael wasn’t just confident—he was certain.

Rumors had long spread throughout the academy about him. The Rank 1 student who possessed a Rank 3 undead.

Still, Lira couldn’t help but recall what she’d heard about Rynne Halvane. The girl was said to be a genius among geniuses, one who had already begun comprehending her law even before reaching Level 50. Such talent was terrifying.

Yet despite that, Lira still saw a clear gap between her and Michael.

If she could see it, then Rynne should be able to as well.

So why did she still dare to challenge him?

Lira’s lips pressed together slightly, her gaze flicking toward Michael’s composed face. Either she’s confident beyond reason… or she’s hiding something, she thought quietly.

It was then Michael’s voice pulled her from her thoughts. “By the way,” he said casually, “how does the contest for rank work? Are there any restrictions?”

His tone was calm, but Lira could sense the sharpness beneath it. He might have looked relaxed, yet his mind was already analyzing every angle. Confidence was one thing—but Michael was far from careless.

After all, except Rynne was an idiot, there was no reason to take his rank unless she believed she had the strength—or something—to back it up.

“The contest is held under the supervision of a teacher,” Lira explained. “It’s meant to prevent unnecessary accidents. The rule is simple—only your own strength counts.”

Michael tilted his head slightly. “Only your own strength?” he repeated. “That sounds vague. What exactly does that mean?”

“It means,” Lira said, meeting his gaze, “that you can’t use borrowed power and even the treasures used in the battle must be below Epic grade. Anything higher will be restricted.”

Michael nodded slowly, thoughtful. “So even borrowed strength is limited.”

“Exactly,” she said. “The fight is meant to show personal capability.”

A faint smile touched Michael’s lips. “Then it seems fair enough.”

But in his heart, he couldn’t help but feel intrigued. If Rynne knew all that, and still challenged him… then she must have something unusual prepared.

Either that, or she was planning to make this interesting.

Just as that thought passed through his mind, Michael’s Edgeband vibrated faintly.

He glanced down, and a glowing message appeared across the screen. His eyes moved over it once before he said quietly, “It looks like the teacher’s been assigned.”

Lira leaned forward slightly. “Already?”

“Yeah,” Michael said. “The message says all participants are to gather at the Combat Hall in twenty minutes.”

*

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