Michael stared at them one by one, then spoke aloud, slowly.
"...Can any of you talk?"
A long pause followed.
Then—
"Yessss..."
The voice ca from Lucky.
Raspy and low.
The others followed soon after.
"Can... speak," Gale said next, his voice smoother.
Prince took a mont, then grunted, "...Hard. But yes."
Beginning and Lily looked at him for a mont.
When Lily finally spoke, it was almost flawless.
"We can."
Her voice was soft and elegant.
Beginning followed, his deeper tone like rolling earth.
"Yes."
Was it because these two spent more ti with people, or more specifically, his family, that they were like this?
Michael’s brows rose again.
These five had changed indeed.
Whether it was the [Transformation] skill, or just another aspect of their Rank 3 evolution—he wasn’t sure yet.
Still, their words weren’t fluent.
They could speak.
But through their connection, he could tell they still preferred their ntal link.
Michael was satisfied with his class item.
For all the chaos that had unfolded from the evolution of these five, he had expected that the chance to study their changes would take a while.
But now, here in the independent dinsion of the Damaged Coffin of the Forgotten, he was t with a pleasant surprise.
The coffin had also given him more than just a space.
Through the deep connection he shared with the artifact, Michae could feel the truth that if he willed, he could subdue any of these five.
And if that was the case... then this pocket realm was sturdy enough to endure the destructive force of a Rank 3 creature.
That realization made him realise he could finally test their newfound strength.
Michael’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully, excitent and calculation blending into one.
First, the basics. Physical power.
Michael wanted to know exactly how terrifying a Rank 3 monster could be. But beyond that, he sought for confirmation.
Confirmation that his own growth, his own strength, had reached a level where he could stand toe-to-toe with monsters of this tier.
’Status.’
*****
[ Na: Michael Norman ]
[ Class: Master Necromancer ]
[ Level: 40 ]
[Strength: 487.75]
[Agility: 527.71]
[Constitution: 535.92]
[Intelligence: 650.92]
[Attribute Points: 150]
Michael gaze lifted toward the five towering figures before him. Their bodies radiated oppressive power even in stillness, enough to make the very atmosphere inside of the coffin’s dinsion feel heavier.
A faint smile touched his lips.
"The first thing we’ll test," he murmured, voice low but clear, "is your strength."
"Defend yourself if you’re chosen."
The five undead shifted subtly at his words, their expressions unreadable but their bodies taut with readiness.
Michael let it stretch. Five seconds.
Then he moved.
His body blurred into motion.
The griffin-turned-man barely reacted in ti. His hawk-like eyes flared with sharp light as his body twisted, arms coming up instinctively. Even so, Michael’s strike passed through his guard with frightening ease, forcing Gale back eight steps, the impact resounding like a hamr strike against steel.
Gale’s heels dug trenches into the coffin’s floor as he slid back. His arms trembled against the impact.
Michael didn’t press further. He simply stood there, relaxed, his right arm lowering at ease, as though the blow hadn’t even drawn effort. His breathing remained calm, steady, his expression almost casual..
Michael tilted his head slightly, his lips curving faintly.
On paper, his stats might not have been able to match a Rank 3 creature but as a High Human, this changed everything.
The strike just now confird it.
Gale steadied himself, wings twitching faintly against his back as though they longed to flare open. His golden eyes narrowed with sharp predatory focus. Then, with a sudden screech that reverberated through the coffin’s dinsion, he lunged.
Michael saw it coming the mont Gale’s muscles tensed. His perception cut through the movent, predicting every twitch, every shift. To Gale’s credit, the strike was vicious.
But Michael moved faster.
His arm snapped up.. Gale pressed down, his grip like a vice. Michael felt the force, the raw density of a Rank 3 creature. Any lesser Awakened would have folded beneath it. Yet he stood calmly, legs rooted, the impact rolling through his fra like it was nothing.
Then, with a twist of his wrist, Michael broke the grip and countered. His palm slamd into Gale’s chest.
The griffin staggered backward, his legs gouging lines in the ground as he fought for balance.
Michael didn’t stop. He advanced. Gale barely raised his guard before Michael was upon him again. A flurry of strikes followed.
Gale blocked most, yet even with his fast reflexes, he was losing ground. For every strike he parried, two more slipped past.
Michael’s movents weren’t wild or wasteful. They were efficient. Controlled. The difference between instinct-driven combat and the discipline of a man who had clawed his way through countless battles.
Finally, Gale spread his wings wide, a burst of mana flaring outward like a gale of wind. The shockwave forced Michael to halt. Gale launched himself upward, wings beating hard. In a blink, he was airborne, descending with his hands outstretched.
Michael didn’t dodge. He braced, muscles coiling, mana flooding into his limbs. When Gale crashed down, Michael’s arms shot up and caught them.
The collision thundered through the dinsion, ground fracturing beneath their feet. Michael twisted, heaved, and with startling ease flung the griffin sideways. Gale’s body smashed against the ground, skidding across the cracked surface before tumbling to a halt.
Silence followed.
Michael exhaled once, rolling his shoulders as though he had only been warming up. His eyes narrowed, gaze fixed on the griffin slowly rising to his feet again.
Michael rolled his shoulders once more, his lips curving faintly. "Again," he said, voice calm but laced with challenge. "This ti, no restraints. Go all out."
The command was clear. He wasn’t testing Gale’s defense anymore—he was demanding to see the true might of a Rank 3.
Confidence burned in his chest. He had just manhandled Gale with ease, after all.
Gale’s eyes flared like molten gold. The air around him shifted, sharp currents whispering against the walls of the coffin’s dinsion. Then, with a piercing screech, he obeyed.
The winds exploded.
Michael’s expression barely had ti to harden before the first blast slamd into him.
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