Evolving My Undead Legion In A Game-Like World

Chapter 705: The Legion’s Power [4] [Edited!]

This was actually because they were from the same race.

Yes, after discovering the usefulness and uniqueness of Ghost again and again, Michael had not wanted to overcrowd his undead legion with one major type of undead, but he did realize that sometimes having more of a single type was simply better.

Ghost type happened to be one of those cases.

Physical strength that could compete with a pseudo level seventy as a new rank three creature was not common at all, and even the ones Michael had not used materials on could fight with level sixty-five creatures even as early rank three undead.

Not all creatures were naturally strong.

There was also something else about the ants.

Their laws.

It was a collective law.

Another discovery that made Ghost’s race even more mythical.

Ants were a strange species.

From the moment they were born, their lives were already decided for them.

Workers worked.

Soldiers fought.

And some reproduced.

Every action served the colony. Every breath served the Queen.

None of them questioned it.

None of them resisted.

Their individual strength meant nothing. Their identity meant nothing.

Only the collective mattered.

Only the colony thrived.

This was what made ants terrifying.

The simple truth that every ant lived and died for a will greater than itself.

When they acted as one, they crushed creatures hundreds of times larger.

When they moved with unified purpose, even the death of thousands meant nothing as long as the colony lived.

The amazing thing was that even as undead, Ghost and his fellow ants still retained their strength, except their ruler was now Michael, whom they viewed as the equivalent of their Queen.

Their entire purpose was for him, and even their law reflected that.

This was the first time Michael had ever seen a law gained from race rather than through comprehension.

The law they possessed was strange and terrifying.

It was born from the same instinct that shaped every ant colony since ancient times.

A law tied not to enlightenment, but to purpose.

It was a branch of the Law of Life.

Its concept was simple:

In life, everything exists for a purpose.

And when that purpose calls, life responds.

Ghost’s law, and the law shared by his race, reflected this perfectly.

Whenever their purpose was invoked their strength surged.

Not by ten percent.

Not by twenty.

By half.

A clean, brutal amplification of their entire combat power.

If the task before them was ordinary, the boost was small.

If the task was dangerous, the boost grew stronger.

And if the purpose was dire, if their Queen, their Colony, their mother was threatened, the law roared.

The law only cared about purpose.

The more impossible the purpose, the more overwhelming the surge.

But this gift came with a cost.

The stronger the amplification, the faster their life burned away.

It was the purest reflection of the ant’s nature.

To fulfill the task before them even if their bodies shattered.

To answer purpose even if it meant death.

Even as undead, they retained that terrifying instinct.

When Michael spoke, their purpose ignited.

Ghost’s law flared brightest of all.

Ghost did not wait for further instruction.

The moment the law ignited, he vanished.

A crack split the frozen air behind the old man.

The elder reacted instantly, slamming his staff down. A wall of mana folded into existence like a curtain of compressed space.

Ghost’s fist hit it a heartbeat later.

BOOM.

The impact rippled across the battlefield.

The ground tore open. Ice shattered outward. The air rang like metal struck by a hammer.

Varun and Ruel were thrown back again, though Michael stood firm, already prepared.

Both forces held.

Ghost’s huge body strained against the shimmering wall, his fist buried into its surface, cracks spreading around the point of impact.

The old man’s sleeve fluttered from the recoil. His smile had vanished.

For the first time, he looked irritated.

”So this is your little soldier,” the old man muttered, his voice vibrating with mana. ”Annoying.”

Ghost leaned in, pushing harder.

His eyes locked onto the old man without a shred of hesitation.

The elder reinforced the barrier with another gesture, and for a moment, the two forces balanced perfectly.

But Ghost was not alone.

Michael lifted a finger.

Four more signatures exploded into existence.

Each one radiated the same brutal, half step amplification.

Each one stared at the old man.

Michael spoke calmly, his voice cutting through the storm of energy.

”Children.”

All five ants reacted at once.

”Protect your mother.”

They answered.

The five human outlines blurred.

Their flesh warped.

Then, with a series of wet cracking sounds, they unfolded.

The air above the ruined settlement darkened.

Five colossal bodies stepped out of the distortion where the humans had been.

Ants.

Each one was a towering blackish grey ant.

Six limbs anchored them in the air as if the sky itself were solid ground.

And then there was Ghost.

He was slightly larger than the others. About eight meters tall, his frame heavily plated, his mandibles thicker, his chitin darker.

Varun’s breath hitched.

”What... are those...” he whispered.

Ghost vanished again.

One moment he hovered above the battlefield.

The next, he was in front of the old man.

His massive foreleg scythed downward like a dark guillotine.

The old man’s staff moved in the same heartbeat.

A translucent sphere of warped space snapped into existence around him, layers folding over each other like petals of an invisible flower.

Ghost’s strike hit it dead on.

BOOOOM.

The frozen plain buckled.

Cracks exploded outward in every direction.

The ground shattered into jagged slabs.

The air screamed as the barrier compressed and rebounded, shockwaves ripping through the battlefield.

Varun and Ruel were flung even farther away, even through their raised defenses.

The old man’s robes snapped in the mana storm.

His expression had sunk into a thin, hard line.

”So persistent,” he muttered.

A twist of his staff sent a wave of condensed mana along the barrier’s surface. It rippled like liquid glass and turned Ghost’s force sideways, deflecting it in a controlled arc.

Ghost’s massive body was flung backward, carving a trench in the sky with raw pressure alone.

Before the old man could follow up, three more presences crashed in.