Evolving My Undead Legion In A Game-Like World

Chapter 528: Retreat?

Michael had skills at [Advanced Mastery] too. He knew what that meant—he could call them forth with a thought. This didn’t mean magic circles were still needed. Without circles, the spell maybe only 70% effective.

Michael’s mind scrambled for an explanation. Three months since awakening... if this was the only skill he focused on nonstop, maybe it’s possible. Possible—but still insane.

Then the air rippled.

Without warning, a fireball bloomed in Brian’s hand. No circle. No delay. Just heat, raw and blazing, compressed into his palm before hurling forward.

Michael’s blood ran cold.

”...That’s not just Fire Spear.”

He barely managed to twist aside as the fireball slammed into the cliff wall, detonating in a wave of force that knocked him stumbling.

Michael’s eyes widened. The thought crashed through him like thunder.

Two skills. At advanced mastery. Both without circles...

*

The fire spears lit the fog on-screen like streaking comets. Every impact seemed to rock the feed with a thunderous crack.

The studio audience erupted.

Darius let out a low whistle. ”Coolest thing I’ve seen all day. Guy’s like a walking cannon.”

Selene pressed her lips thin. ”But why is he attacking Michael...? After all, at the current stage they don’t have relation.”

The doubt lingered in the studio, but the firestorm on-screen didn’t leave much room for answers.

*

Places across Dawn State were alive with voices. Families who’d been leaning forward since Michael’s three-on-one now had their jaws slack. Some were shouting for him to fight back, others just couldn’t believe what they were seeing.

In Bright academy, some girls huddled together, eyes wide at the massive screen playing the feed.

”Lily... isn’t that your cousin?” one of them whispered.

Lily nodded faintly, her hands gripping the edge of the table so tightly her knuckles were white. She didn’t even realize she was holding her breath.

Her friends exchanged glances, nervousness creeping into their features.

”I mean, he’s doing amazing, right? He beat three Hunters before like it was nothing.”

”But this Brian guy...” The other friend bit her lip as another fireball exploded across the mist. ”He looks... unreal.”

Lily’s heart hammered. She didn’t even blink as Michael blurred through another explosion, the shockwaves shaking the ground around him.

Back in Aunt’s Mia restaurant, a frown painted her face as she wondered why this familiar looking boy seemed adamant on Eliminating her boy.

Was it because of a competition?

*

Michael ducked another spear.

His teeth clenched. Why... why is he attacking me?

At first, he’d decided—fine. If Brian wanted to strike, then he’d do him the favor of paying it back.

But the truth became painfully obvious after only a few exchanges.

Every step forward, another wall of fire pushed him back. Every attempt to draw a circle was interrupted by a flash of heat too fast, too precise. Brian wasn’t just casting—he was controlling the field, bending it so Michael had no room to breathe.

”Damn it!” Michael cursed under his breath, his body flickering just out of reach of another explosion. ”He’s not even moving from that spot...”

Brian stood rooted in place, as if the battlefield itself belonged to him. His sword hung idle, but his free hand never stopped weaving fire into existence. Spears, orbs, and streaking trails of crimson burned through the fog, hemming Michael in from every angle.

Michael tried again—fingers cutting into the air, mana stirring for a spell—only for a fireball to scream past.

”...He’s preventing me from casting,” Michael realized grimly. His knuckles tightened around the spear shaft.

He was being suppressed. Completely.

Another blast rocked the cliff edge, forcing Michael to leap back or risk being swallowed whole.

The realization clawed at him, sour and sharp. In this place... I can’t beat him.

His gaze flicked once to Brian’s calm, proud expression through the haze. The fire mage didn’t even bother to chase him. He just stood there, cutting him off like a wall of flame incarnate.

Michael’s chest rose and fell hard. Then, with one last glare, he pivoted sharply and bolted into the mist. His figure flickered, vanishing into the fog, Ghostwind Steps carrying him away from the suffocating firestorm.

He hated it. Running. But here in this crippled space, with half his true power sealed, there was nothing else he could do.

Tomorrow... in the Land of Origin. His eyes hardened as he fled. There, where we can use our real strength... I’ll remember this, Brian.

*

Selene nearly stood up in her chair as the camera followed Michael’s retreat. ”He’s—he’s running?! He actually chose to disengage!”

Darius leaned back, still grinning despite the shock in his voice. ”Can you blame him? Look at that inferno. Even I’d turn tail!”

The studio audience buzzed, half in awe of Brian’s dominance, half in disbelief that Michael—the boy who had just crushed three Hunters—was forced back so soon.

*

At Bright Academy, Lily’s friends shifted uncomfortably as Michael’s figure disappeared into the mist on the big screen.

”...He’s retreating,” one of them whispered, voice tense.

The other shook her head quickly. ”He’s smart. Look at that guy—he’s like a monster. Anyone would’ve done the same.”

Lily’s hands trembled against the edge of the table, her eyes locked on the screen. A cousin she had always quietly admired, being forced to run... She bit her lip hard, swallowing down the knot in her throat.

*

Michael’s steps pounded against the stone as he slipped further into the fog, Ghostwind Steps pulling him like a wraith between shadows.

But the bitter taste of retreat burned his tongue.

Then it came.

BOOM!

The sound ripped through the mist behind him, sharp and violent. Then another—closer. The ground beneath his boots trembled faintly with the shockwave.

Michael froze mid-step. His head turned, eyes narrowing back toward the direction he had fled.

”...Brian?”

The firestorm wasn’t chasing him anymore. Instead, bursts of heat and light flickered far off through the fog, staining the gray with angry orange.

*****

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