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Evolving My Undead Legion In A Game-Like World

Chapter 413 Discovery (Bonus - for Weekly Top 10 in GT Rankings. Thank you for voting!!!!!) · Oct 05, 2026

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Chapter List (1266)

Page number / 26

401 Chapter 401 The Tenth Item 2026-10-05
402 Chapter 402 Auction Ends 2026-10-05
403 Chapter 403 Contract 2026-10-05
404 Chapter 404 Leave 2026-10-05
405 Chapter 405 Troubles 2026-10-05
406 Chapter 406 Six People 2026-10-05
407 Chapter 407 The Situation 2026-10-05
408 Chapter 408 A Solution 2026-10-05
409 Chapter 409 Escape 2026-10-05
410 Chapter 410 Probing 2026-10-05
411 Chapter 411 Searching 2026-10-05
412 Chapter 412 Heading Back 2026-10-05
413 Chapter 413 Discovery (Bonus - for Weekly Top 10 in GT Rankings. Thank you for voting!!!!!) 2026-10-05
414 Chapter 414 Giving Up (Please Cast Your GT Votes for support!!! Thank you for reading!!!) 2026-10-05
415 Chapter 415 Making A Move 2026-10-05
416 Chapter 416 Regret 2026-10-05
417 Chapter 417 Awakening [1] 2026-10-05
418 Chapter 418 Awakening [2] 2026-10-05
419 Chapter 419 A Fortune From Helping 2026-10-05
420 Chapter 420 Going Back 2026-10-05
421 Chapter 421 Meeting 2026-10-05
422 Chapter 422 Invitation 2026-10-05
423 Chapter 423 Meeting [1] 2026-10-05
424 Chapter 424 Meeting [2] 2026-10-05
425 Chapter 425 Beast Taming [1] 2026-10-05
426 Chapter 426 Beast Taming [2] 2026-10-05
427 Chapter 427 Beast Taming [3] 2026-10-05
428 Chapter 428 Beast Taming [4] 2026-10-05
429 Chapter 429 Beast Taming [5] 2026-10-05
430 Chapter 430 Heritage Breeders 2026-10-05
431 Chapter 431 Strange Creature 2026-10-05
432 Chapter 432 Taming [1] 2026-10-05
433 Chapter 433 Taming [2] 2026-10-05
434 Chapter 434 Testing 2026-10-05
435 Chapter 435 A Problem 2026-10-05
436 Chapter 436 A Possible Solution 2026-10-05
437 Chapter 437 It’s Not All That Bad 2026-10-05
438 Chapter 438 Phase Shift 2026-10-05
439 Chapter 439 Food Solution 2026-10-05
440 Chapter 440 Symbol 2026-10-05
441 Chapter 441 Queries 2026-10-05
442 Chapter 442 Two Days Later 2026-10-05
443 Chapter 443 Thornvale [1] 2026-10-05
444 Chapter 444 Thornvale [2] 2026-10-05
445 Chapter 445 Arriving 2026-10-05
446 Chapter 446 Situation of Thornvale [1] 2026-10-05
447 Chapter 447 Situation of Thornvale [2] 2026-10-05
448 Chapter 448 A Soft Introduction 2026-10-05
449 Chapter 449 First Meeting [1] 2026-10-05
450 Chapter 450 First Meeting [2] 2026-10-05

Chapter 413: Chapter 413 Discovery (Bonus Chapter for Weekly Top 10 in GT Rankings. Thank you for voting!!!!!)

Spartan reached the point where Michael’s own footprints scuffed the dew-damp cobbles—wide strides, a trail of crushed grass and splintered boards from when he’d crashed bodily through the gates.

Beyond lay the grand entrance hall, lit by lanterns.

Spartan, he projected, letting his mind sink fully into the undead’s perception, enter.

The armored figure stepped forward without pause, passing through the threshold.

He crossed the wide vestibule.

Everywhere Michael looked, people were frozen in place.

And then, one after another, five other armored figures appeared behind Spartan.

The rest of Michael’s undead had arrived—moving in perfect silence, their heavy boots leaving no mark on the immaculate marble floor.

For a moment, Michael simply let them stand there, arrayed in a loose semicircle.

He could feel the weight of their attention—an emptiness waiting to be filled with command.

Search everything, he ordered at last, his mental voice as calm as it was cold. Every room. Every corner. If there is any active spellwork, any hidden presence, I want to know.

Six silent minds accepted the order as one.

The five undead fanned out in a practiced pattern, each taking a different doorway, vanishing deeper into the building.

Michael let his awareness settle back through Spartan’s senses.

The grand vestibule stretched out before him, empty but for the frozen figures.

He studied them for a long moment.

And then, unbidden, a thought flickered through his mind—quiet, insidious.

A realization he hadn’t allowed himself to consider until just now.

Technically, he thought slowly, I’m the only one here who can move.

His gaze swept across the silent hall, the rich tapestries, the gleaming columns, the extravagant displays of wealth.

Some of the items that had been wheeled in for the auction were still arranged on their pedestals and velvet-draped tables.

Nothing stopped him from simply walking over and taking them.

And the longer he stood there, the harder it became to dismiss the thought.

The great-tier magic scroll.

An item powerful enough to match the abilities of a Rank 3 Awakener, or a King Rank cultivator.

Or the miracle fruit that could grant three hundred years of life.

And more than that: it could also strengthen the body and refine the flesh to elevate an ordinary man to something almost transcendent.

Michael exhaled slowly, feeling his pulse tick up in his throat.

He didn’t think he was a saint.

This... everything here...

...technically, it’s all accessible to me.

A dozen arguments tried to surface in his mind at once.

That it was theft.

That it was reckless.

That taking something now could bring consequences he couldn’t foresee.

But another part of him logically pointed out the truth.

Nothing was stopping him.

No one would even know unless he chose to tell them or admitted it if he was suspected.

His undead moved through the halls, searching.

On the other end, Michael stood, feeling the weight of the choice settling over him.

Would it really be theft, he thought, if every witness was trapped in a dream?

The thought refused to leave him.

It settled in the back of his mind like a seed, quietly taking root.

Michael drew in a steadying breath.

In the end, Michael decided to put the thought behind him.

This was the capital.

He might be one of the stronger individuals here, but he still wasn’t at the top. Not even close.

There were people in this city who could shatter his life with a single word if he overstepped.

If he got greedy here and it put him in serious trouble, it wouldn’t be worth it.

He could survive a lot, but crossing the wrong power in the capital could end him before he even understood what he’d done.

Michael let out a long exhale, steadying the restless spark in his chest.

No.

It wasn’t worth it.

...But even so—

If he saw something that he liked—something he truly wanted, or needed—he wouldn’t pretend he was above taking it.

That, at least, he decided he could live with.

Call it a consolation fee.

If this absurd mess had forced him to risk his life—and had given him a chance to pluck something valuable from the ruins—he wouldn’t feel guilty about accepting the compensation.

A small, wry smile ghosted across his lips.

He was many things, but naive wasn’t one of them.

His undead continued their silent search, their minds linked to his like a constellation of empty vessels.

Michael let the thought settle and then fade, replaced by a colder focus.

One thing at a time.

He shifted his focus fully into Spartan, feeling the familiar dissonance of inhabiting an unliving perspective.

Black and white clarity unfolded around him, every shadow crisp as a blade’s edge.

Spartan moved deeper into the auction hall, past the lavish displays and the unmoving crowd.

Room by room, hall by hall, Michael’s other undead pressed on—methodical, relentless.

He felt their progress like distant heartbeats in the dark.

One in the western wing had begun descending a servant’s staircase.

Another slipped through a side corridor lined with locked doors.

A third passed a tapestry.

But it was Spartan who drew his attention most.

Michael directed him toward the broad archway at the end of the main hall. Beyond it lay a descending passage.

The basement.

Every estate of this size had a vault or storage chamber, and the auction house was no exception.

Spartan soon reached the landing.

Michael guided him forward, passing row after row of crates and locked cabinets.

And then, just beyond the furthest row, he saw them.

Six figures.

They stood in a loose semicircle, robes pooling around their feet like shadows congealed into cloth.

One of the robed figures stood over a shallow copper basin that steamed faintly in the cold air.

The others were focused on the array drawn across the floor, its lines intricate as a spider’s web.

Their faces were hidden beneath hoods, and though none of them turned to look, Michael felt the conviction in his bones.

These were no victims of the illusion.

They were its architects.

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