Evolving My Undead Legion In A Game-Like World - Chapter 728

Capítulo 728: Hunt For A Demon Lord [2] (Edited!!!)

“Why is it that when it’s my turn to do something, something always goes wrong?” Michael lamented as he stared at the sky, where two figures stood on empty air.

One was the old man from the Federation. The other was from the Drakeblood race.

The shocking part was that both of them were Rank Four.

That alone left Michael confused. Ever since entering Hell, or rather, ever since entering the academy as a whole, Rank Fours no longer seemed as rare as he had once believed.

Hell only intensified that feeling. Even within the academy, he had encountered only a handful of Rank Fours, and even then, those encounters were either extremely brief or from a great distance.

He had never been involved in matters at their level before.

Yet now, not only had he killed one, he had remained close to another for nearly an hour.

At the moment, the entire group waited outside Drakeblood territory, patiently allowing the discussion above to conclude.

The drake from earlier had already left the moment the Rank Four from her side appeared.

The Starborn drifted a little closer to Michael.

“Do you think they’ll reach an agreement?” he asked.

Michael watched the two figures in the sky, the pressure between them folding the air into subtle waves. He did not answer immediately.

“I don’t know,” he said eventually. “But if they do, then with just those two alone, the Demon Lord problem should already be resolved.”

The Starborn glanced at him, then nodded slowly.

“I was thinking the same,” he said as he assessed the gathered Rank Threes and the two Rank Fours above them. “Even without any more support, this is already excessive.”

Michael agreed, though he did not voice it.

In truth, he had believed from the start that just himself and the old man would be enough. Still, at this stage, he did not want unnecessary losses. He had no intention of losing any undead, and caution against the unexpected had pushed him to accept more people joining.

What he wanted more than anything now was for the Demon Lord to be dealt with quickly so he could return to exploring Hell properly.

Aside from this place, he could not think of anywhere else that could provide such a large and diverse supply of cores. The only alternative would be the corrupted dimensional cracks the academy controlled, but that involved far more time, paperwork, and regulations.

Hell was simply more appealing.

The pressure in the sky shifted.

A moment later, the old man descended.

Every gaze fixed on him.

He did not keep them waiting long.

“The discussion is over,” he said. His tone was even, almost casual. “There will be no joint operation.”

“The Drakeblood Rank Four is here by invitation from her people,” he continued. “They requested her presence specifically to deal with the Demon Lord.”

That alone was enough to stir unease.

“She does not intend to cooperate,” he said. “She plans to handle it herself.”

Several of the Rank Threes stiffened. More than one of them clearly wanted to comment on the arrogance of that decision, but none did. The reason was obvious.

Several of the Rank Threes stiffened. More than one of them clearly wanted to comment on the arrogance of that decision, but none did. The reason was obvious.

No matter how irritating it was, no one present could ignore reality. She was not beneath them.

The old man’s gaze swept over the group once.

“I suspected something like this might happen,” he said. “I just wasn’t certain.”

He paused briefly.

“Rank Fours are not cabbages,” he added. “But now it seems very likely she isn’t the only one. More Rank Fours may already be on their way.”

“That is good news for us,” he continued. “Whether she cooperates or not, the Demon Lord is still being addressed.”

His gaze lifted briefly in the direction the Drakeblood Rank Four had vanished toward.

“I still plan to head there,” he said. “Even if no one else comes. With just her and me, the odds are already more than sufficient. Anything beyond that is excess.”

Several of the Rank Threes exchanged glances. No one spoke.

The old man turned his attention back to them.

“So now I’ll ask plainly,” he said. “Do you wish to continue following me, or will you return to your territories?”

Silence stretched for a heartbeat.

The Starborn was the first to move.

“I’ll return,” he said with a hint of embarrassment. The others might not have known, but Michael was already fully aware of his cautious nature, even if it was supported by reasonable and legitimate excuses.

The Starborn inclined his head slightly toward the old man.

“With Rank Fours involved, my presence won’t change the outcome,” he said. “Staying would only add unnecessary risk.”

The old man nodded once.

“That’s a sensible choice,” he said.

The Starborn glanced at Michael briefly, then stepped back, already preparing to depart.

One by one, the others began to consider their own positions.

Michael watched them quietly.

By the time the decision finished rippling through the group, the change was stark.

More than a dozen figures had arrived with the old man.

Now, only a handful remained.

One after another, the Rank Threes chose caution. Some bowed briefly before departing. Others offered quiet words of respect and withdrew without ceremony. None of them lingered. With Rank Fours stepping onto the board, they understood their limits.

The sky slowly emptied.

In the end, the crowd thinned until only a small core was left.

The old man remained.

Michael stayed.

So did the silver-haired Amazari elder.

The two Stonekin elders remained as well.

That was all.

From more than a dozen supernaturals, only this group remained.

The old man glanced around once, taking stock of those still present. There was no surprise on his face.

“This is enough,” he said. His voice carried no bravado, only certainty.

Michael felt it too.

With the old man, himself, the Amazari elder, and the two Stonekin, the group was small, but it was solid.