Evolving My Undead Legion In A Game-Like World

Chapter 436: Chapter 436 A Possible Solution

Michael’s voice was barely more than a whisper.

But the moment he spoke those words, a chill spread down his spine.

It wasn’t fear. Not quite yet.

It was more like unease.

A kind of phantom itch just beneath the skin—an instinct honed by countless hours relying on undead that were nothing more than loyal minions. Minions that never questioned, never wavered, never thought.

Now?

He felt something.

Not cold obedience.

Not mindless loyalty.

Just Spartan’s presence.

He felt something in there—however, it was not like a puppet waiting for strings, but like a soldier acknowledging a general.

Respectful. But aware.

Michael’s brows drew together.

To himself, he thought: If Spartan wanted to… could he fight me now?

The possibility had never once occurred to him before. It shouldn’t even exist.

For the first time since becoming a necromancer, Michael felt a flicker of insecurity.

It wasn’t that he believed Spartan would rebel.

It was that he now realized Spartan could.

The difference was subtle.

But devastating.

His connection with Spartan hadn’t vanished. It hadn’t even grown weaker in the way most would notice.

But Michael felt it. That unshakable, absolute control he had before? The leash?

It had turned into a thread.

Still strong. Still taut.

But no longer iron.

No longer unchallengeable.

Michael sat down again, exhaling slowly.

His gaze didn’t leave Spartan.

The undead mage remained motionless, as obedient as ever—but now, Michael couldn’t shake the feeling that something fundamental had changed.

And then the realization struck.

Taming had overridden the necromantic link.

It had been a master–servant bond forged through death magic but now it felt like they were… equal.

Not entirely equal—Michael still held dominance in the contract. But barely. Like a man with high seniority, not absolute sovereignty.

And worse—Spartan’s strength wasn’t that far from Michael.

The closer in power the tamer was to the beast, the more the contract leaned toward parity. Mutual recognition.

So with Spartan?

It wasn’t master–servant anymore.

It was partner–partner.

Michael dragged a hand down his face.

“…Shit.”

He wasn’t angry.

He wasn’t even upset at Spartan.

But he’d uncovered a truth that undermined the very

Michael sighed again.

He’d have to rethink everything.

His entire legion. His entire path.

Taming has its advantages—but at what cost?

Was it worth the loss of control?

Michael didn’t know yet.

But one thing was clear.

He’d crossed a line.

Michael leaned forward, elbows on his knees, mind racing.

The weight of realization still clung to him like a heavy cloak.

But then, something else stirred in his thoughts.

The contract scrolls.

He blinked, the memory slotting in like a missing puzzle piece. Back at the auction, he’d been given several [Master-Servant Contract Scrolls] by the auction manager. Three, to be exact. Identical to the one used to bind Lyra.

Michael reached into his storage space, rummaging mentally through the organized lists of items until he found it.

A soft shimmer lit the air in front of him as the scroll appeared.

Michael’s lips pressed into a line.

Could this… overwrite the new [Taming] contract?

Could he undo what he’d just done and restore things to the way they were?

He didn’t know. But if there was even a chance…

Michael’s eyes drifted toward his panel.

[Tamed Creatures: 2/5]

[Contract Slots Used: 104/125]

“…One slot dropped?” Michael muttered.

Previously, it had been 105.

Which meant…

Michael’s jaw tightened. “Taming… doesn’t share contract slots.”

It converted them.

One of his necromantic contracts had been consumed, rewritten, restructured under the new system.

The necromantic leash had become a [Taming] thread—and in doing so, had freed up one slot.

He was effectively trading control for connection. Command for subtle consent.

And now, with the scroll in hand, Michael found himself hesitating.

This wasn’t just about Spartan.

This was about his undead army.

How many would he eventually try taming?

Taming after all had its own advantages.

Michael closed his eyes for a moment, letting the silence stretch.

Maybe… it wasn’t all that bad.

If the bond between beast tamers and their creatures was truly weak, then beast taming would be the weakest profession in the universe—and it wasn’t.

Michael exhaled through his nose, leaning further into his thoughts.

The loss of absolute obedience was a blow, yes. But it wasn’t without compensation.

Spartan was an undead.

That alone made things… different.

Sure, his intelligence had grown over time. Many of Michael’s older undead had begun mimicking behaviors, emotions, even basic individuality. But they were still undead. At the core of it, how many true emotions could an undead even possess?

Loyalty?

Sure.

Anger?

Maybe.

Love? Compassion? Ambition?

Unlikely.

The truth was, even with the new [Taming] bond, Spartan was still fundamentally undead. His loyalty wasn’t just programmed—it was a part of what he was.

So perhaps the change wasn’t as devastating as it felt.

In fact… it might be manageable.

Michael opened his eyes and looked at the scroll again.

He thought about what would happen if he used it.

Would it restore the old necromantic control?

He didn’t think so now that he thought of it.

If it was anything like what happened with Lyra, it would likely come with side effects. The contract scrolls were powerful, yes—but also rigid. They weren’t designed to interface with the Awakener system.

If he forced one over Spartan now… chances were he’d break the new link, maybe even prevent future growth. Lyra’s experience had proven that. Once bound by the scroll, she couldn’t level up through the Awakener system.

Michael wouldn’t risk that.

He tossed the scroll back into his storage space with a flick of his hand.

If control came at the cost of stagnation… then it wasn’t worth it.

Better to find balance.

Michael’s eyes were half-lidded with thought.

“I’m also at fault.”

Michael felt if he actually understood the structure of spells—if he wasn’t so reliant on the automated casting through his system panel—maybe he could’ve done something now. Like re-engineer the contract and adjusted the framework of the bond so he wouldn’t lose control the way he did.

But no.

All he’d ever done was use what was handed to him. He had never really thought he’d need to understand the why behind it all. Only the how.

Now it was biting him in the ass.

Michael’s mind wandered inevitably to the college exams just a few days away. The exams that determined whether he’d qualify for one of the Awakener Academies.

He still didn’t take the academy as something like a school.

He believes it’s more like an organisation.

What could they possibly teach someone with a system?

But now?

Michael ran a hand through his hair, letting out a dry breath.

Now, he help but to think about it again.

Maybe the Academy was exactly what it claimed to be: a holy land of knowledge. A place where you didn’t just grow stronger—you learned why things worked, how they functioned, and what existed beyond what the system spoon-fed.

If he passed… he could dig into real spell theory. Contract theory.

If he passed… he could learn.

And if he learned enough—then maybe next time, he wouldn’t be fumbling in the dark.

Maybe next time, he’d know enough to design a bond his way.

Not just accept the defaults the system handed him.

Michael’s gaze drifted back toward Spartan, who stood quietly.

A part of him relaxed—just a little. It wasn’t like he’d completely lost the bond. It was just… different now.

Michael drew in a slow breath.

He stared at his open system panel, fingers twitching slightly at a thought that refused to leave his head now.

What if I tried teaching Spartan a skill?

The [Taming] interface had two functions—Copy and Teach. He had already used Copy. It was on cooldown. But Teach… that one was still active.

He hadn’t tried it yet.

But now, as he sat there—Spartan still within arm’s reach, the eerie silence between them growing heavier by the second—it tugged at his curiosity like a lure.

“Could it work?” he muttered.

[Undead High Human – Tamed Creature – Eligible for Skill Transfer]

That was what the panel read.

Michael stared at the [Teach] button on the panel like it might bite him. A part of him wanted to press it immediately. But another part… the more paranoid part… hesitated.

The skill copy had succeeded at 20%.

That was already a statistical miracle.

No one got that lucky twice.

It was either going to work… or it wasn’t.

And if he was going to test this, better it be now—while he was still experimenting.

Michael’s eyes roamed over his skill list.

He picked one at random.

If he was going to be unlucky, then let it be with something he didn’t put effort in. And if by some cosmic joke, he did get lucky again…

A low chime echoed in his head.

[Attempting skill transfer to Tamed Creature…]

[Initiating transfer…]

[Skill successfully taught.]

[Undead Revival – {Basic Mastery} has been taught]