Evolving My Undead Legion In A Game-Like World - Chapter 646: Her Law, Her Defeat, A Hungry Undead [1]
Chapter 646: Her Law, Her Defeat, A Hungry Undead [1]
Before Rynne could react, a dark figure burst out of thin air right over her head.
Michael’s body twisted in midair, the shaft of his spear glowing faintly as mana surged through it.
“Too slow,” he said quietly.
With a sharp downward strike, he brought the weapon down. Not with the blade, but with the reinforced shaft. It was an impact meant to crush, not pierce.
CRACK!
The blow landed on Rynne, and the force sent her hurtling toward the ground like a meteor.
The arena shook violently as she slammed into the stone floor, a shockwave bursting outward. Dust and fractured rock exploded in every direction
Michael landed a short distance away, his cloak fluttering. He spun his spear once before resting it against his shoulder, eyes narrowing as he watched the dust cloud below.
“I wonder if that’ll keep her down,” he said softly.
True enough, the ground below began to glow.
Through the settling dust, faint blue light bled outward from cracks in the rubble.
Rynne rose slowly from the crater.
Her visor locked onto Michael.
“Good hit,” her voice echoed, sounding dark and mechanical.
Michael’s brows furrowed slightly.
Despite that direct hit, the armor didn’t look anywhere near as damaged as he expected.
“What the hell…” he murmured.
Unknown to Michael, the armor Rynne wore wasn’t an ordinary creation. In the Federation’s history of magi-tech development, this particular model could stand among their peak achievements.
Rynne’s own version was even more exceptional.
It was a semi-epic-grade artifact, after all. The materials used in its construction were already precious, not to mention the intricate runes and advanced technology engraved into its frame.
Shooting beams was far from the only thing it could do.
Redirecting the kind of blunt force Michael had delivered wasn’t a problem for this armor.
Michael, unaware of this, could only watch as faint light rippled across the black-and-silver surface, the armor’s glow intensifying once again.
“Redirected the impact?” he muttered a guess.
Rynne’s voice came through her speaker, calm and confident. “Let me return the favor.”
She had only just finished speaking when the plates on her back shifted, releasing sharp jets of blue light as she shot forward like a missile, leaving a powerful sonic boom in her wake.
The ground beneath her cracked from the thrust.
The impact that followed was deafening.
Michael braced himself, his spear raised across his body as the metallic blur collided with him like a runaway train. A violent shockwave rippled outward, shredding the dust in the air and shaking the entire arena.
For a moment, both combatants vanished within the burst of light and sound.
When the energy finally dispersed, Michael was still standing—his boots planted firmly against the fractured stone, cloak fluttering behind him.
The ground beneath his feet had cratered from the sheer force he had absorbed. His hands trembled slightly on the spear shaft, a faint ache running through his arms.
“That… was strong,” he thought, a trace of genuine surprise flashing in his eyes. Based on his experience, the power behind that strike wasn’t something a typical rank two should be able to produce. Even his reinforced body felt some pressure.
Also, why was this academy cloth so sturdy?
Across from him, Rynne’s breathing quickened inside the armor. The moment her fist connected, she had expected Michael to be blasted backward or at least forced to retreat—but he hadn’t even budged. Not a single step.
“How—?” she whispered in disbelief.
Her gaze dropped to his spear, still glowing faintly with contained mana. Not even the surface showed a single crack.
Michael lunged forward, his spear thrusting in a smooth, fluid motion.
Rynne reacted instantly. The armor’s thrusters flared, and she twisted her body mid-dash, the spear’s tip grazing the outer edge of her pauldron by a hair’s breadth.
She shot backward, stabilizing herself with short bursts of blue light from the armor’s jets. She locked onto Michael again, but he was already pressing her.
Michael advanced like a storm.
Rynne gritted her teeth and pushed her armor to the limit, her body jolting from the constant strain of dodging. Every time she tried to counter, another attack came from an unexpected angle.
Unfortunately for her, it has already clicked in Michael’s mind between swings that the armor wasn’t unbreakable. It had a limit.
Rynne’s thoughts stumbled as she blocked another flurry.
Was this how a necromancer fought?
Who was this freak?
Her plan had been simple. Hit Michael hard at the start. If he summoned undead, ignore them and keep the pressure on him. As long as she kept the crosshairs on the master, the rest would not matter.
Reality did not match the plan.
The armor had a limit but compared to her, she was far inferior.
Inside the shell, she felt her veins already pricked with heat.
Calm down. She told herself.
Then after a moment hesitation.
Do I really have to do this?
Under Michael’s attacks, she could already see herself losing but there was still one thing she had left in the bag.
Michael had forgotten the oldest rumor about Rynne Halvane. Before anyone knew her class, no one called her a crafter. They called her a mage with frightening comprehension.
She still had something in the bag.
Her law.
*
On the viewing platform, the hall shifted from chatter to stunned quiet, then to a rising roar that rolled like a wave.
Lira forgot to breathe for a heartbeat. She knew Michael was strong. She had seen him trade with Ryn and not lose ground in pure strength even as a necromancer. This was different. This was raw dominance. She swallowed and felt a flicker of something that was not quite fear and not quite awe.
Which goddess gave birth to this freak.
She was not alone.
“Impossible.”
“He is only Rank Two.”
“Only. Are you blind.”
The clamor swelled. A cluster of seniors started talking at once. They knew the rumours of a certain Michael Norman had wiped out more than a thousand students in the third round of the college exams. There was proof. Even then, most had comforted themselves with a simple belief. His terror came from his undead. Without them, he would be manageable.
The belief dissolved on the screen.
“Crazy. Both of them.”
“Two first years.”
“This is not Rank Two anymore. No way.”
A group near the pillar broke into an argument.
“He is only this strong because he has Rank Three undead.”
“He did not summon a single one. Are you stupid?”
“He will when he gets pressed.”
“Pressed by who.”
It seems a certain girl had developed a fan group in a short time.
In a quiet corner.
Kieran spoke. He did not smile this time. “Your sister has hands,” he said. “I will give her that.”
Ryn did not look at him. His eyes never left the screen.
Kieran didn’t bother with the silent response and continued. “She’s good,” he admitted. “Really good. I won’t deny that. But with that much power, she’s bound to lose sooner or later. The other guy hasn’t even summoned his undead yet—”
He didn’t get to finish.
The words died in his throat as gasps tore through the hall.
Ryn was already half-turned toward him, anger ready to spill, when the image emitting from the pillar changed.
Inside the Combat Space, Michael was just about to thrust his spear—this time with a true measure of strength—straight into Rynne’s chest plate.
And then the armor vanished.
A ripple of confusion ran through the audience.
“What—?”
“Did she teleport?”
The scene inside shifted again.
From the empty air above, a spark of blue light burst open—and Rynne reappeared mid-sky.
Everyone watching froze.
No one had expected her to have this move. Even Michael.
The combat feed magnified, zooming in on Rynne’s airborne figure.
It was then they noticed another important change.
The exosuit was gone.
No. It wasn’t gone.
It was as if the sleek black armor had been absorbed straight into Rynne’s body.
Even Michael was surprised by the sight.
Rynne form was still humanoid, but changed. Her body gleamed faintly, skin now smooth and metallic like polished silver. It was as though the mecha’s armor had merged with her flesh.
Her once waist-length hair cascaded down all the way to her feet. Her figure had lengthened and she stood taller than before.
It was safe to say—Rynne Halvane had become the mecha itself.
Gasps echoed through the hall.
“What… what is that?”
“Did she… fuse with her armor!?”
However, what the others outside the space didn’t notice, Michael did.
The scent of law.
He felt it radiating from Rynne.
At this point, Michael’s expression was incredible.
Though they were the same age, he couldn’t deny that for the first time since he awakened, he actually met someone he felt a bit inferior to.
Of course, he only thought so in terms of comprehension.
And Michael was right.
Rynne was indeed using a law.
It was also what was responsible for her current appearance.
