Evolving My Undead Legion In A Game-Like World-Chapter 865: Gained Advantage

Uga followed like a charging beast.

The attendant’s blade flashed.

A clean horizontal slash cut across the space between them. The edge carried mana, turning a simple swing into a sharp pressure wave.

Uga raised his forearm.

The pressure wave struck and burst apart, scattering dust and fragments of stone, but it still pushed him back a fraction.

That fraction was enough.

The attendant used it, stepping in and turning his blade, slashing again and then again. Each strike was precise, each one controlling where Uga could move.

Uga swung his fist through the gaps, trying to break through the line of steel.

The sword met his arm.

The blade did not cut deeply, but it left a thin red line on his skin.

For the first time, blood appeared.

Uga’s eyes widened slightly in surprise.

Then his face twisted.

He surged forward again, faster now, anger and instinct driving him as he chased the attendant farther and farther from the summoning circle.

Prince Rui watched them go, his expression settling back into calm.

The summoning circle continued to pulse.

The eight kept feeding it, their hands trembling, their bodies nearing the limit.

Prince Rui did not look in the direction of the battle again.

His attention returned fully to the formation.

The summoning circle pulsed beneath the eight participants, its runic lines glowing brighter with every passing second. The crimson light spread across the cracked ground like veins, carrying the mana they were pouring into it.

The reaction was becoming violent.

The runes trembled.

Small sparks of unstable energy snapped across the circle, stinging the hands pressed against the stone.

One of the eight nearly flinched.

But he did not pull away.

None of them did.

Their faces had begun to change.

The earlier exhaustion had not disappeared, but something else had joined it now.

Dread.

They could feel it clearly.

Something was wrong.

The formation was pulling far more mana than it had before. The flow had become heavy, almost greedy, dragging energy from their cores with a force that made their meridians ache.

Several of them had already realized it.

But none of them dared to stop.

Their instincts screamed the same warning.

Stopping now would be worse.

The formation had already been activated. The ritual had passed the point where interruption was safe. Breaking the flow abruptly could cause backlash, tearing their mana channels apart or triggering the collapse of the entire formation.

So they endured.

Their breathing grew rougher.

Sweat formed along their temples despite the cold air.

Prince Rui watched them quietly.

His face remained completely flat.

There was no tension in his posture, no sign of concern in his eyes.

After a moment, he spoke.

"You are doing well. Continue."

His tone was calm.

Encouraging.

But it carried no warmth.

The words did not ease the pressure weighing on the eight.

If anything, the dread inside their chests deepened.

They could feel it now.

The mana they were feeding into the circle was not stabilizing the formation as expected.

It was being consumed.

The runes were drinking it.

One of the eight lifted his eyes slightly.

Then another.

Soon several of them were glancing toward Prince Rui.

The looks were brief.

Quiet.

But they were filled with the same silent question.

Prince Rui noticed.

Of course he noticed.

Yet he ignored them completely.

His gaze remained fixed on the formation as if nothing unusual was happening.

The silence among them pleased him.

No one spoke.

No one protested.

No one dared to question him.

Despite the growing dread, their hands remained pressed firmly against the stone, their mana continuing to pour into the circle exactly as they had been ordered.

Prince Rui watched the glowing runes pulse faster and faster.

Far from the formation, the battle between Uga and the attendant continued to intensify.

The ground beneath them was already scarred with cracks and gouges from their earlier exchanges. Dust drifted lazily through the air, only to be torn apart whenever the two figures collided again.

Uga lunged forward.

His movements were still raw and direct. Each step shattered stone beneath his feet as he closed the distance with the simple intention of crushing the man in front of him.

The attendant no longer attempted to meet those blows head on.

Steel flashed.

The sword moved in clean arcs, cutting through the air with controlled precision. The blade intercepted Uga’s next punch, sliding across the youth’s knuckles and forcing the strike slightly off course.

Uga’s fist still carried enormous force.

Even deflected, the blow slammed into the ground behind the attendant and blasted a crater into the stone.

The attendant had already moved.

His feet shifted in quick steps as he circled around Uga’s flank. The sword snapped forward again, this time thrusting toward the giant youth’s ribs.

Uga twisted.

The blade scraped across his side instead of piercing deeply, leaving another thin red line across his skin.

Uga swung his arm in response, trying to grab the attacker outright.

The attendant retreated just in time.

The hand closed on empty air.

Their difference in fighting style had become clear.

Uga relied on overwhelming physical strength. Every strike carried enough force to crush bone and break armor, but his movements were broad and instinctive.

The attendant fought differently.

His strikes were measured, controlled, and aimed not at overpowering Uga but at exploiting the smallest openings.

Another exchange erupted.

Uga drove forward with a heavy punch.

The attendant stepped aside and cut downward.

The blade struck Uga’s shoulder, carving a shallow wound before sliding away as the youth’s other arm swung around in retaliation.

Uga’s fist clipped the attendant’s side.

The impact was glancing, but it still pushed him several steps back.

The attendant recovered quickly.

His breathing had become more focused now.

The longer the battle continued, the clearer the pattern became.

Uga’s body was monstrously strong, but his attacks lacked refinement.

Awakeners also had certain advantages, even if those advantages were sometimes small.

Steel flashed again.

Another cut appeared across Uga’s forearm.

Then another across his shoulder.

The wounds were not deep, but they were increasing.

Uga roared in frustration and surged forward again, smashing his fist toward the attendant’s chest.

This time the sword met the strike directly.

The blade turned sideways, redirecting the force while the attendant’s body shifted along with the impact.

The moment Uga’s momentum carried him forward, the attendant moved.

His sword struck again.

A precise slash opened a deeper line across Uga’s upper arm.

For the first time, blood splashed onto the cracked ground.