My Undead Legion In A Game-Like World (Evolving My Undead Legion In A Game-Like World) - Chapter 723

Chapter 723: Start A What?
Without another word, she turned toward the forest. The other three Amazari warriors moved in a loose escort rather than a guard formation.

Michael followed in silence, but the further he went, the more he could feel it.

The stares.

They were strange.

The Amazari women they passed paused in their work to look in their direction.

It was the kind of attention that made Michael feel like he was walking without clothes.

He kept his expression neutral, but the urge to adjust his collar or pull his cloak tighter rose anyway.

He resisted it.

The escorting four did not help.

They kept glancing at him too, their eyes shifting to his face, his shoulders, the way he moved, then returning forward as if nothing had happened.

Then, after a few more moments of silence, one of the escorting women spoke again.

Her tone this time was polite, almost curious.

“Do you have elven lineage?”

The question caught Michael off guard.

“No,” he answered honestly. Then, after a brief pause, he added, “Why do you ask?”

The Amazari woman glanced at him again, her eyes tracing his features with open assessment.

“You resemble them,” she said. “If one ignores the lack of very long ears. Though your mana feels weird. As an Amazon that has an affinity with nature, the only ones who can most times be on par with us are elves.”

Then Michael noticed it.

The old man looked at him.

Varun followed suit.

Even the Starborn turned his head, studying Michael with renewed attention.

After a moment, all three of them gave subtle nods.

“…I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said, feeling a bit odd but more curious about elves again.

He had seen an elf subject back in the land of origin, but that was the only one he had seen and he didn’t think they looked alike at all.

Maybe she meant in terms of appearance level, Michael reasoned.

The Amazari woman gave a faint smile. “It was meant as one.”

“Also,” she continued, her tone direct. “Do you already have a wife?”

Michael nearly stumbled.

His face remained still, but his cheeks clenched hard enough to make his spine stiffen.

He forced himself to answer normally. “No.”

The Amazari woman hummed.

“You look old enough to start looking after a family,” she said.

Michael’s throat went dry.

He glanced sideways.

The Amazari woman did not seem to be teasing him.

She seemed serious.

“As handsome as you are,” she continued, still walking, “it would be a waste to let you wander around unattached. If you want, there are many suitable women in our clan who could take care of you.”

Though the Amazari race was largely a neutral civilization, they were one of the many who had internal universal relations due to the number of women in their race.

It couldn’t be helped. The number of men was few and even with that, there was no shortage of their women who took in more than one male Amazari into their homes.

Michael’s jaw tightened.

For a heartbeat, he wondered if he had misheard.

Unfortunately, he had not.

The words were clear.

Behind him, the Starborn’s steps faltered for a fraction of a second.

Varun coughed once.

The old man did nothing at all, not even a change in breathing.

They all continued forward as if the question had never been asked.

As if the entire conversation was not happening directly beside them.

Michael kept his gaze forward and made himself speak again, slow and measured.

“I appreciate the offer,” he said, choosing his words carefully, “but I am currently occupied with responsibilities.”

The Amazari woman glanced at him, then gave a short nod.

“Responsibilities can be shared,” she said. “A good woman takes responsibility for you and makes burdens lighter.”

The words were not bad to say per se, but they were odd to hear, especially when one knew the meaning behind the words. Based on the common sense of the Amazari race, it would differ significantly from Aurora cultural norms.

Michael did not reply. He simply continued walking.

And beside him, Varun, the Starborn, and the old man maintained their flawless performance.

There was not a single sign that they had heard anything at all.

Soon, their path widened, giving way to a broad platform grown directly from the trunk of an ancient tree that dwarfed everything around it. At its center stood a massive wooden structure with vines wrapped around the structure in deliberate spirals.

Michael could feel several powerful gazes flash past him the moment they drew closer.

“This is where our elders convene,” the Amazari woman at the front said, slowing to a stop. “Those present here are the ones authorized to discuss matters of significance.”

She turned slightly, her gaze sweeping over the group.

“I will inform them of your arrival and brief them on what you have told us.”

The old man inclined his head. “That would be appreciated.”

The Amazari woman nodded once, then stepped forward alone. The wooden doors parted silently at her approach. She passed inside, and the doors closed behind her without a sound.

The four men waited patiently as several thoughts flashed through their minds.

Michael stood still, hands relaxed at his sides, senses quietly extended to areas a bit away from within the building.

He did not know exactly how strong the people in the building were, but he knew what he could and could not do.

They were here for something important, so there was no need to do anything that could make the other party uncomfortable or dislike them.

After a short while, the doors opened again.

The same Amazari woman stepped back out, her expression unchanged but her posture slightly straighter.

“They are aware of the situation,” she said. “You may enter.”

She stepped aside and gestured inward.

“Please follow me.”

They stepped inside.

The interior of the building was far larger than it appeared from the outside. The walls curved naturally, and the ceiling rose high above them, supported by thick wooden arches that looked more like living ribs than pillars.

Light filtered in from above through narrow openings in the bark, casting a warm amber glow across the hall.

There were quite a few people already seated in the building.

They were seated in a wide circular arrangement, each Amazari woman occupying a raised platform that seemed to have grown seamlessly from the floor. None of them wore armor. Instead, they were dressed in layered fabrics and hardened leather.

Michael’s perception swept over them carefully.

Rank Three.

All of them.

And not the shallow kind.

These were seasoned Rank Threes, their foundations deep and stable, their auras dense and refined. Each one radiated strength earned through long years.

However, among all of them, none of them were comparable to the old man beside him.

There was no pressure that bent space or any other phenomena. Their power was formidable, but it remained contained within the limits of Rank Three.

The old man stood apart even here.

At the far end of the hall sat one figure slightly elevated above the others. Her presence was heavier than the rest, though still unmistakably Rank Three.

The Amazari woman who had escorted them stepped forward and bowed deeply.

“Honored elders,” she said, her voice clear. “These are the representatives from Aurora and allied realms. They bring urgent information regarding Hell.”

A brief silence followed.

Then the silver-haired elder spoke.

“You may speak, sir,” she said as she sat straight and said it with a bow as a sign of respect to the old man’s power while gesturing for them to give him a chair. The old man nodded his head slightly and sat down as the other Rank Threes in the space straightened too.

Michael remained silent, standing half a step behind.

“This matter concerns more than one race,” the old man said evenly.

His eyes shifted briefly to his side.

“For clarity, I will allow the young Starborn to speak first. He is the one who directly witnessed the initial incident.”

He turned his head slightly. “Young Starborn.”

The Starborn stiffened at being addressed, then stepped forward without hesitation. He straightened his posture and bowed respectfully toward the elders.

“My name is Kaelith,” he said. “I serve at our station on the Twentieth Floor of Hell.”

The elders’ attention sharpened as they listened to the Starborn’s account.

When he finished, the old man spoke again.

“If I am not mistaken,” he said, “the Demon Lord is not the only abnormality.”

His eyes swept across the circle of Amazari elders, and without blinking, he continued.

“According to my sources, multiple races have experienced internal discord within a short span of time. Given the timing of the Demon Lord’s appearance, this feels less like coincidence and more like a coordinated set of actions.”

He paused briefly.

“However, uncovering the instigators behind that unrest is not our immediate priority,” the old man said calmly. “What matters now is addressing the Demon Lord that is advancing toward the higher floors of Hell.”

His gaze settled on the elders.

“That is why I have come here, to hear your assessment and to ask what assistance the Amazari can provide.”