Evolving My Undead Legion In A Game-Like World - Chapter 537: Mail
Chapter 537: Mail
The apartment eventually quieted. Lily had locked herself in her room, still laughing on the other side of the door, and Michael returned to his.
He had contemplated showing her why he was called phantom but gave up the thought later with a smile
Moments later, he was sprawled on his bed, phone balanced loosely in his hand.
Michael finally opened the app again.
Followers: 3.8M
Michael exhaled slowly. It was still insane—but compared to earlier, it was slow.
A 400,000 increase from his last check, but the rate had obviously slowed.
Oddly enough, that made him feel… relieved.
He set the phone down on his chest, staring at the ceiling. In the end, this frenzy would pass. Once people realized there was no reason to keep following him, they’d lose interest.
At least that was what Michael thought.
He had no idea just how much Aurora was about to change.
Michael reached for his mail app next. His inbox was flooded with the usual but there was nothing from the Education Council yet.
“Too early, I guess.”
Michael shut the phone, set it aside.
With that thought anchoring him, Michael drifted into rest.
Back in the Land of Origin.
After finishing the last set of papers for the day—documents he had stubbornly refused to carry over after the morning delay had pushed his schedule back—Michael finally exhaled in relief. At least now, with his ability to operate in two bodies, the burden wasn’t as suffocating as it once was.
Office work was torture. No—any kind of work was torture. But official duties belonged in their own special grade of misery.
Fortunately, it wasn’t his full attention being consumed. One body functioned more like a soulless automaton, grinding through the workload, while his true focus rested elsewhere. That made the endless bureaucracy somewhat bearable.
His thoughts drifted back to the cause of that morning’s delay.
With a subtle breath, Michael reached into the depths of his soul—and drew something forth.
It was a palm sized coffin.
The Damaged Coffin Of The Forgotten.
His only Epic Grade item at the moment.
And not just any Epic Grade item—an extremely high one, standing at the very peak of its tier. With just one more evolution, it would step into an entirely new grade altogether.
As for how many Evolution Points that would require… Michael didn’t even dare imagine. Evolving a three-star Extraordinary rank item into a one-star Epic grade had already demanded roughly 3,200 Evolution Points. The cost beyond that was unfathomable.
Still, for now, it was enough.
Just like with his Venomfang Spear, Michael had also refined this three-star Epic grade item. At Basic Mastery, the Object Refinement Art allowed only two refinements. He had chosen to use them on his spear and his coffin.
The spear—because it could become useful to him again.
The coffin—because, among all the items in his possession, none could compare to this three-star Epic grade treasure.
Yet, it was only after refining the spear that he realized how shallow his control over the coffin had truly been.
The Object Refinement Art was clearly not meant solely for evolving items—it was also about mastery, about control. The difference was obvious with the spear when he refined it.
With the coffin, before refinement however, control had been far less clear.
Until now.
Only now, with true control in his hands, did Michael grasp just how miraculous an Epic grade item could be—and how simple his earlier thoughts on its value had been.
[Damaged Coffin of the Forgotten][Three-Star Epic Grade Item]
Effect 1 – Eternal Call (Upgraded):
Summon an Undead from the Netherworld. The summoned creature’s rank may equal the user’s highest contracted Undead. The summon remains for 24 hours or until destroyed. Requires massive energy consumption proportional to the summoned creature’s level.
Effect 2 – Gate of Death:
Laying within the coffin allows the user to transfer their consciousness into the Netherworld.
Effect 3 – Gravekeeper’s Claim (Passive):
If the user is killed, the coffin anchors their soul, allowing resurrection after 10 years in a random location in the Netherworld. Usable once every 100 years. After the third resurrection, the item will be destroyed.
Effect 4 – Sepulcher Dominion:
The coffin exerts dominance over undead in its vicinity. All undead within a 500-meter radius receive a temporary increase in power (+20% stats, +1 ability tier), while hostile undead suffer suppression (-20% stats, weakened skills).
Effect 5 – Soul Interment:
The coffin can store the souls of defeated enemies. Up to 7 souls may be bound at once. Bound souls can be offered to strengthen existing undead, refined into energy to empower one summoned Undead temporarily.
Effect 6 – Warden of the Forgotten (Passive):
The coffin resists all attempts to erase, sever, or control the user’s undead contracts. In addition, once per month, the coffin can nullify any soul or mental-based attack or possession directed at the user.
Compared to the item’s previous state, the difference between then and now was heaven and earth.
Take the first effect, for example. On the surface, it seemed almost unchanged. Yet in truth, it had evolved beyond recognition. No longer limited to summoning creatures one rank below his strongest, the coffin could now bring forth an undead on the same rank.
That single change meant everything. If Michael could shoulder the crushing energy cost, he could potentially use the coffin to call forth a temporary Rank 3 undead.
And that was only the beginning.
Putting aside effect two that remained the same, the third effect, Gravekeeper’s Claim, had also gotten an upgrade.
Where before it promised only two resurrections, now it granted three chances across centuries.
Three was nothing short of terrifying.
Then came the new revelations—the coffin didn’t even have until refining it.
Three new effects making the Damaged Coffin Of The Forgotten now have six effects.
The fourth effect, Sepulcher Dominion, allowed him to exert a field of control around his undead. Allies grew stronger, enemies weaker, all within the coffin’s shadow.
With his already strong undead, with the coffin they only became even stronger.
The fourth effect also turned him into a nemesis to his own class.
The fifth, Soul Interment, was perhaps the most sinister. The coffin could bind the souls of the fallen, keeping them like fuel. Seven slots, each one a potential weapon, a resource to refine, or a brutal offering to empower one of his summons in battle.
The implications were staggering.
And finally, the sixth effect, Warden of the Forgotten—a shield.
Far more effective than the earrings he had on.
It would protect his contracts, his bindings, even his very soul from interference. Mental threats meant little now. Once per month, the coffin itself would defy any such attempt that his means couldn’t handle.
Michael’s fingers lingered on the coffin’s edge, his eyes narrowing slightly.
Before refinement, he had underestimated it, thinking of it as just another powerful tool.
Now, with real control flowing through him, he understood.
The Damaged Coffin of the Forgotten was no mere item.
The good news didn’t stop there.
Beyond the listed effects, there were subtler applications—abilities that hadn’t even been recorded in the coffin’s panel.
Michael suspected this was because they were not direct “effects” but rather extensions of control he’d only unlocked through refinement.
For example, he could now change the size of the coffin freely. From palm-sized, like the miniature resting in his hand at this very moment, to something far larger—the upper limit still unknown. It made the item far more convenient to carry, though in practice, it wasn’t of much use since he could store it in his Soul Space anyway.
Another revelation was even more staggering: the coffin now possessed its own storage space. An inner world the size of an acre—far larger than the storage space his mark provided him.
As for whether it could hold anything aside from non living things which Michael was particularly interested in, it was unknown.
Michael exhaled slowly, the corners of his mouth tugging in something between wonder and grim satisfaction.
Compared to its previous state, the difference was heaven and earth.
The item had gone from useful to incredibly useful.
Michael turned the palm-sized coffin over once, intent on teasing out anything else it might be hiding—when the tug of attention from his other body snapped taut.
Aurora.
A new email had just landed.
He blinked, split his focus, and let his awareness slide into his original body.
The phone vibrated once more and lit the room with a cool glow.
From: Education Council – Examinations Directorate
Subject: Academy Application
Michael sat up, thumb already swiping it open.
The email opened with ceremonial politeness:
> Dear Candidate Michael,
Congratulations on advancing to the final stage of the Examination. We wish you success in tomorrow’s last round.
Important: Due to the nature of the final round, your participation now proceeds through an academy-based format. This means individual academies will administer your last examination module and scoring. To be seated for the round, you must first apply to at least one academy track.
