Evolving My Undead Legion In A Game-Like World-Chapter 851: Finding The Source

The impression they gave Michael was unmistakable.

Parasitic.

It reminded him of a parasite he had once read about.

Spinochordodes tellinii.

A horsehair worm.

It infected insects, most commonly grasshoppers and crickets, entering their bodies when they consumed contaminated material. At first, nothing appeared wrong. The host continued feeding. Moving. Living normally.

But the parasite grew. It fed and coiled itself within the host’s body cavity, absorbing nutrients while remaining hidden.

And when it reached maturity, it took control.

The infected insect, a creature that instinctively avoided water its entire life, began to behave differently. It wandered without purpose. Paused at strange intervals. Lost awareness of danger.

Then, inevitably, it approached water.

And it jumped.

The insect drowned itself, not out of instinct, but because the parasite inside it needed water to complete its life cycle. Once submerged, the worm emerged from the drowned body, leaving behind only a hollow shell.

Michael stared at Cedric, Lucien, and Alaric.

The comparison settled into place with chilling clarity.

They still moved.

They still breathed.

They still spoke when spoken to.

But something inside them had already taken root.

Something patient.

Something waiting.

Through the Eye of Truth, he saw the small faces shift beneath Cedric’s skin. They did not appear as separate organisms, but fragments of something larger, rearranging continuously beneath the flesh.

Michael followed their line of sight.

The endless twilight stretched outward, crystal veins pulsing faintly beneath the ground.

Somewhere in that direction was the source.

The origin.

The water the parasite needed.

Or the opposite. The place drawing them in.

Movement entered the edge of his perception.

A group of figures crossed a distant ridge.

They moved in a straight line, boots scraping crystal-veined stone without hesitation. Their weapons hung at their sides. Their eyes faced forward.

Michael recognized their armor.

Another expedition team.

He had seen them hours earlier. Alert. Careful. Fully aware.

Now they walked like sleepwalkers.

None of them reacted to distant faceless shapes. None glanced toward Michael or his group. They simply continued forward, toward the same unseen destination.

Michael’s frown deepened.

This was not the first time.

He had noticed isolated individuals before. Always those who had absorbed the orbs. Always drifting toward the same direction.

It was no longer coincidence.

Beside him, Arianne’s breathing grew uneven. Her grip tightened around the reins of her Flame Lion. The beast stood close beside her, muscles tense beneath ember-colored fur, golden eyes flicking between its master and the retreating figures.

It could feel her fear.

Michael felt a faint trace of pity.

She had already lost two contracted beasts to stronger faceless creatures through a moment of poor judgment. Now something worse had taken root inside her.

He shifted his attention back to Cedric, Lucien, and Alaric.

For several seconds, nothing changed.

Then Cedric stepped forward.

Lucien followed.

Alaric moved with them.

Perfectly synchronized.

Michael’s eyes sharpened.

"Cedric."

No response.

"Lucien."

Nothing.

"Alaric."

Not even a flicker.

They walked past him toward the distant horizon.

Arianne’s voice trembled.

"They’re going too..."

Michael stepped directly into their path.

Cedric did not stop. He adjusted his angle slightly, attempting to move around him without awareness.

Michael released his mana.

It spread outward in a controlled wave, settling over the three men like invisible pressure.

A suppressive field.

Not enough to harm. Enough to stop.

Their bodies halted mid-step.

Muscles tensed. Veins rose faintly beneath their skin.

Through the Eye of Truth, the faces beneath their flesh reacted instantly. They shifted violently, pressing outward as if resisting him.

Cedric’s foot trembled.

Then pushed forward.

Slowly.

Against the pressure.

Lucien and Alaric did the same.

Michael increased the pressure.

The air thickened.

Still they leaned forward.

Arianne covered her mouth, horror widening her eyes.

Michael increased it again.

Cedric’s knee bent at a dangerous angle. Bone creaked faintly. He did not react.

Lucien’s shoulder tore slightly. Blood seeped through his sleeve. He did not slow.

Alaric’s ankle twisted. His heel dragged against stone.

They continued.

Michael understood immediately.

If he held them like this, they would destroy their own bodies just to keep moving.

He released the field.

The pressure vanished.

They staggered once, steadied, and continued forward as if nothing had happened.

Michael watched them go.

Watched their backs shrink into silhouettes against the dim horizon.

Beside him, Arianne broke.

Her Flame Lion shifted closer, lowering its head beside her shoulder, rumbling softly. It could not understand the cause, but it understood distress.

Arianne clutched her chest.

Her breath shattered into sobs.

"I should have listened."

Her voice cracked, dignity abandoned.

"I saw them grow stronger. I saw them absorb the orbs and nothing happened. They fought better. Moved faster. And I thought... I thought I was the only fool standing still."

Her shoulders shook violently.

"I couldn’t take it anymore."

Tears streamed down her face.

"I should have listened to you."

The Flame Lion pressed closer, its warmth grounding her, tail flicking restlessly.

Michael did not answer immediately.

He understood her.

The pressure of watching others advance while you remained behind.

He understood it intimately.

But his thoughts had already moved elsewhere.

He too had used the cultivation orbs.

Not many.

Not recklessly.

But he had.

The difference lay in how.

Michael lowered his gaze slightly, feeling the faint ache deep within his soul.

He remembered the first orb.

He remembered the faces.

He had not trusted it.

So he had forced it through Lily’s Law.

Her devouring trait.

A law capable of consuming anything that contained essence. Breaking it down. Stripping it to its purest components.

It did not matter whether the essence came from flesh, crystal, poison, or stranger origins.

If it had substance, it could be devoured.

The limit of the Law was his own limit.

Michael had forced the orb through that process.

Only after it had been devoured, purified, and reduced did he absorb what remained.

And the difference had been undeniable.

No faces appeared beneath his skin.

No infestation.

When he used the Eye of Truth on himself, he saw only his own form.

More than that.

The fracture in his soul had eased.

Not healed completely.

But softened.

The devoured essence had repaired part of the damage.

Proof appeared immediately.

Several dozen contract slots had recovered.

Michael crouched beside Arianne.

Her Flame Lion watched him closely, but did not interfere.

He placed a steady hand against her upper back.

"Breathe," he said quietly.

She tried.

Failed.

Tried again.

"I knew it was wrong," she whispered. "I knew it was too easy. But every time nothing happened, it felt like I was the only coward."

Her fingers tightened in the lion’s mane.

"I couldn’t keep falling behind."

Michael kept his voice calm.

"I’ll see what I can do."

Her head lifted slightly.

"You can fix it?"

He did not promise.

"I’ll see what I can do."

To her, it was enough.

Her breathing steadied slightly. The Flame Lion relaxed by a fraction, sensing her emotional shift.

Michael’s gaze returned to the horizon.

His expression hardened.

He was helping her.

He was not indifferent enough to watch her be consumed.

But that was not the only reason.

The condition of his soul mattered more than anything.

Ascending perfectly required it.

And the fragment he had devoured had already proven something undeniable.

It could heal him.

Not completely.

But enough to matter.

If a fragment could do that,

Then what about the source itself?

His thoughts sharpened.

Hesitation remained. He understood the danger. If the ruin could infest others, the origin could be far worse.

But hesitation also meant time.

And time meant more unknown changes.

In any case, he could not leave the ruin immediately, which meant he had only one option.

Advance and find the source.