Michael didn’t care what the people on the flying ship thought of him.

He also didn’t care that they now knew he had another undead.

For one, it was unavoidable given the current circumstances. But more importantly, he figured there was no reason to hide it.

Michael wasn’t the type to flaunt his powers unnecessarily, nor was he the type to conceal them when there was no need.

From his observations, none of the knights had shown even the slightest hint of disgust at the sight of his undead.

He attributed this to a few possible reasons:

One, undead creatures were probably common in this part of the Land of Origin, so their existence wasn’t something that disturbed the locals.

Two, magic involving undead wasn’t forbidden here.

Three, if the first two weren’t true, then the knights were simply seasoned warriors who had seen enough to remain unfazed by something like this.

Another possibility—one that seemed very likely—was that his powers had been misunderstood in his favor.

Regardless of the reason, it didn’t seem like a bad thing for him.

Considering that, why shouldn’t he use his most convenient undead?

As he rode on the back of his undead griffin, Michael couldn’t help but feel pleased that he had acquired a flying undead.

If he hadn’t, he would have faced a tough choice—either abandon his undead and continue with Mage Lian’s group or prioritize his undead and abandon following them altogether.

And even if he had chosen the latter, his running speed wasn’t anywhere near as fast as this griffin’s flight.

It was truly a stroke of luck that he had obtained this undead at the perfect time.

Gripping tightly onto the griffin’s head as they sped through the sky, leaving no trace behind thanks to its subconscious use of wind magic, Michael swiftly reached the outskirts of Blackstone Town.

Without hesitation, he re-entered the Everlong Forest.

Entering the familiar-looking forest instantly put Michael on edge.

He knew that somewhere in this vast expanse of trees lurked a monster capable of killing him.

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Though he had grown much stronger than he was a few days ago, it was clear from the previous actions of this creature that he wasn’t the only one improving. Who was to say that even with his newfound strength, his survival wouldn’t just be a matter of delaying the inevitable?

So yes, even though Michael doubted the monster would be roaming the outskirts at this exact moment, he remained cautious.

After all, its ability to control other monsters meant its awareness wasn’t confined to a single location.

Michael’s priority was simple—retrieve his undead, take them back to the real world, and return.

Right now, the use of power in the real world was so unrestricted that he didn’t have to worry about causing mass panic.

At most, his house might turn into some kind of amusement attraction.

If only he had a place in the Land of Origin to hide his undead, Michael wouldn’t have minded that some of them weren’t here.

“After I’m done with the main tasks here, I’ll use Undead Summoning on all my unsummoned undead. Hopefully, with some luck, I can increase my number of summons and reduce the number of undead I have to reveal outside.”

As several thoughts raced through his mind, Michael didn’t hesitate—he continued toward the location where he had left his undead.

There, he was met with silence.

A part of him had already expected this when the notifications of his undead killing monsters had stopped earlier.

However, seeing the remains of the slain monsters littering the ground only made him frown.

Though his system panel confirmed he hadn’t lost any undead, he was surprised to find that very few of them were even injured.

His newer summons, such as the Armored Cricket and Spectral Ant, were completely intact.

Only his stronger undead, like the orcs, seemed to be in rough shape.

Yet, as he observed how they had organized the remains of the monsters while cleaning up the battlefield, an odd expression crept onto Michael’s face.

“They’re probably just as smart, if not a bit smarter, than the ones I left back in the real world.”

Though this was good news, he didn’t have time to celebrate.

His gaze shifted to one of the nearby monster corpses.

[Corrupted Controlled Monster Lv 15]

This was about the average level of the others as well.

The system didn’t even bother listing their names.

If Michael wanted to identify them, he would have to do so manually—but he wasn’t particularly interested in going that deep.

And the reason was simple.

Each of the monsters had black tentacles covering their bodies.

“Mage Lian’s guess seems to be wrong. Perhaps that monster truly has no knowledge of the nearby settlement, but it definitely has its sights set on the forest. As for its intentions… they likely aren’t good for anyone but itself.”

As Michael considered this, he didn’t remain idle.

While still mid-air, he mentally commanded all his undead to stop handling the monster corpses immediately.

For a brief moment, he considered descending to inspect one of the bodies himself—but he quickly dismissed the thought.

He wanted nothing to do with that monster.

At least, not yet.

After this was done, still in mid air he commanded all his undead to rush out of the forest. From his previous experience, whenever the minions of that monster died, it would send others to retrieve the bodies.

If those creatures caught up to him here, Michael would have no choice but to fight—something he wanted to avoid.

Though he wouldn’t admit it, he wasn’t confident he could escape a second time if he faced that monster again.

Ironically, in the Land of Origin, death was usually the least frightening thing for Awakeners.

Yet, for Michael, it was a different story.

The only thing capable of killing him here also seemed capable of killing him for real.

While Michael knew that his rough start was largely due to his luck not being the best—it didn’t make him feel any better.

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