Michael immediately rejected several possibilities. He first thought of the Emperor's subjects, but unfortunately he still was not cruel enough for that.

Michael's expression became conflicted as he started battling with his sense of morals.

Then subconsciously, his eyes drifted downward toward the hundreds upon hundreds of undead spread across the capital. All were Rank 3. None of them individually mattered much compared to Beginning.

Michael froze. Then he looked again. His breathing slowly stopped.

A thought appeared inside his mind. A thought so ruthless that even he instinctively recoiled from it.

If a few dozen, even hundreds. Yes. The number was more than enough, Michael thought. If even a fraction of them were dragged into the Trial Domain and Beginning devoured them, they would become fuel for his victory.

Michael stared at the undead below. The undead stared back with empty eyes.

For a long moment, he said nothing. The battle above continued. Beginning kept losing while the Emperor kept growing stronger.

A dangerous light appeared in Michael's eyes. He could see a possible way to turn the tables. The only question remaining was whether he was willing to pay the price.

It did not take long for Michael to make a decision.

"Come."

His voice echoed through the battlefield. Soon, one hundred Rank 3 undead stood before him. Various undead of different forms and strengths, all waiting silently.

The surrounding experts were confused by Michael's actions. Nobody understood what he was doing, but nobody dared to interrupt either.

Michael stared at the undead before him. A strange feeling appeared inside his chest.

Truthfully speaking, Michael was not particularly close to most of them. How could he be? He possessed thousands of undead. Building meaningful relationships with every single one was impossible, especially when he had only been a Necromancer for less than a year.

The undead closest to him were only a few, and most of the time they were either the strongest, the most unique of his legion, or the ones that had stayed with him the longest.

These hundred? Some of them Michael did not even know by race from memory alone.

Yet despite that, his expression remained complicated. After all, they still belonged to him and were loyal to him as their master.

And now he was about to send them to their deaths.

For a brief moment, Michael wondered if something was wrong with him. Perhaps only Michael would think something like this. If an orthodox Necromancer were to hear his thoughts, they would not just laugh. They would spit on him with disgust and mock him. Call him immature, naive, and weak-hearted.

To most Necromancers, only special undead mattered. The strongest. The rarest. The most useful. Everything else was simply resources, consumables, and expendable assets.

If sacrificing a hundred ordinary undead could save a powerful one, there was nothing worth considering. If sacrificing a thousand weak undead could strengthen a Rank 4 servant, most Necromancers would do it without blinking. In fact, many would celebrate. A profitable transaction. That was all it would be. Nothing more. Nothing less.

Michael also understood that logic. Objectively speaking, it was only right.

Beginning alone was worth far more than these hundred undead combined. A thousand times more. Perhaps ten thousand times more. The giant was one of the foundations supporting his entire future.

Without Beginning, his current Law would not exist as it did, and he would likely have turned to bones somewhere in Hell.

Meanwhile, these undead could be replaced.

Yet despite understanding all of that, Michael still felt uncomfortable.

Unfortunately, reality rarely cared about feelings.

Above the capital, the Sea of Darkness shook violently again. Another portion of Beginning's essence disappeared. The Emperor's triumphant laughter followed immediately afterward.

Michael's expression hardened. The conflict in his eyes vanished.

"…Sorry."

The word escaped his mouth quietly. The undead naturally gave no response. They merely continued waiting for orders.

The first thing Michael did was sever his connection to the hundred undead. His body trembled slightly. A small backlash traveled through his soul. Yet compared to the pain he would experience if a hundred contracted undead died simultaneously while still connected to him, this was insignificant. A slight headache. Nothing more.

Michael immediately stabilized himself.

He had done this for two reasons.

The first was that he had absolutely no idea whether undead participating in the Trial Domain while still bound to him would cause the domain to classify him as a participant as well. If that happened, everything would be over.

The second reason was even simpler. Pain. Back in Hell, the death of multiple undead had almost crippled him from soul backlash. His soul was stronger now, but pain was still pain.

So he cut the connections.

For a brief moment, the hundred undead became ownerless. But Michael was not worried. Even after severing the contracts, the undead still stood obediently before him.

The reason was simply his class, Death's Heir. The class itself granted him near-absolute dominance over dead creatures. These undead were no longer his servants, yet they still obeyed him just as naturally as before.

Michael slowly looked over them.

Above the capital, the Sea of Darkness shook again. Through his connection with Beginning, Michael felt another loss. The Emperor was slowly winning.

Michael's expression hardened. A command traveled outward.

The hundred undead immediately rose into the sky.

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

Like arrows released from a bow, they shot upward toward the Sea of Darkness. Many of the surviving experts immediately noticed.

"What are they doing?"

"Where are they going?"

Some began to realize something. Their faces changed.

Even the Emperor, who was currently tearing chunks from Beginning's essence, noticed the approaching figures. His eyes narrowed.

"What is he doing now?"

Meanwhile, Michael reached through his connection with Beginning and sent it a simple message.

Eat.

The hundred undead had already approached the edge of the Sea of Darkness. The domain reacted immediately.

*

A/N: Thank you for the continued support!! Update rate is back to normal!