My Undead Legion In A Game-Like World (Evolving My Undead Legion In A Game-Like World) - Chapter 726

Chapter 726: Brutal Universe
Unfortunately, out of the hundred floors of Hell, the sixth floor was still only the sixth.

That single fact placed an unspoken limit on its value.

The effects of the sixth floor were undeniable, but they were not absolute.

They worked exceptionally well on the weak, the growing, and the unrefined. For those still shaping their foundations, the environment was a treasure. Progress that might have taken years elsewhere could be compressed into months here.

But for the truly powerful, the difference was subtle.

To them, the special energy of the sixth floor was little more than unusually flavored air. The mana on the day side, while abundant and pure, lacked the depth needed to meaningfully affect high-rank existences too.

This limitation was precisely why the sixth floor was not contested by greater powers.

Hell contained other regions with higher mana density. There were zones where mana was not only purer, but layered with fragments of higher laws. There were places where physical refinement energy was violent, dangerous, and vastly more effective, though survival there required power to match.

Compared to those locations, the sixth floor was valuable, but not irreplaceable.

This reality explained why only two races ruled it.

The Starborn and the Drakeblood had paid a price to secure the floor, but not one high enough to attract interference from deeper powers. Strong enough to dominate the sixth floor, yet not so tempting that others would want to seize it.

The old man and the gathered Rank Three allies chose to visit the Drakeblood region first.

They did not travel on foot.

From the moment they stepped into the sixth floor, everyone chose the air.

Aside from the night and day abnormalities, the sixth floor looked normal as well, with plant life and so on.

However, the lack of surprise for new things Michael had expected after seeing so many strange floors ended up coming.

It was when the first wall appeared.

A wall that stretched for kilometers. Watch structures sat at regular distances along the ridge, each one shaped like a jagged tooth.

Michael’s eyes narrowed.

This was not a post.

It was not even a fortress.

It looked like the outer boundary of a city.

He had not expected that.

In his mind, Hell was a place people passed through, not a place to live. Even races that held floors usually maintained stations and strongholds, not full settlements. Their people came, trained, gathered resources, rotated out, and returned to their home realms.

That was what made sense.

That was what Michael had assumed.

Yet below him lay a civilization.

A real one.

Michael felt something else too.

Population.

“A few hundred thousand?”

There were moving dots along the streets and platforms. There were clusters of buildings that looked like they were built for daily life rather than war.

Michael hurriedly turned to look at Kaelith, the Starborn, for explanation.

Kaelith did not look surprised at all.

He glanced down at the city in passing, as if it were a familiar landmark rather than something abnormal, then looked back ahead while keeping pace in the air.

“Why are you surprised?” he asked. “A top race can sustain a large population anywhere it decides to, as long as it is willing to pay the cost.”

Michael held his expression steady, but his eyes stayed on the structures below.

When Kaelith put it like that, it sounded obvious.

Michael’s mind shifted.

He considered Aurora’s scale. If a civilization like Aurora chose to anchor itself in Hell, the hardest part would not be building a city.

Kaelith spoke again, seemingly having anticipated Michael’s next thought.

“And yes,” he continued, “you are probably wondering why other races do not do the same, even when they could.”

Michael did not answer, but the silence was enough.

Kaelith explained without slowing.

For most races, building a permanent civilian settlement in Hell was impractical. Hell was not a stable territory in the way normal realms were stable. A single change in a neighboring floor’s balance could ripple outward and turn a safe region into a killing zone.

Stations were flexible. Cities were not.

A station could be abandoned in hours. A city could not. Evacuating tens of thousands or hundreds of thousands required time, and much more. If a crisis rose suddenly, the slowest people would die first, and they would die in numbers that would stain a race’s reputation for centuries.

There was also the question of purpose.

Most races used Hell like a resource field and a training ground. They rotated warriors through it, gathered rare materials, and left. The danger was acceptable because the people involved were combatants. If the worst happened, losses were painful but contained.

There were also the deeper reasons that only powerful races truly understood.

Hell did not like permanence.

The longer a settlement existed, the more attention it drew from the things that crawled in hidden places. Demons were not mindless beasts, and even in the sixth floor, though not in intimidating numbers, there existed other Rank 3 demons.

Putting aside the Rank 3, Rank 2 in large numbers was enough to cause damage.

Michael asked why the Drakeblood were different.

Kaelith did not answer immediately. He simply told Michael to look again.

Michael frowned, then forced himself to focus on the movement below rather than the walls and towers.

Then the details settled.

Most of the figures below were not Drakeblood.

He had never met a Drakeblood before, but he knew enough. Drakeblood looked very human except for the fact that they had horns and a few other minor features.

The people below didn’t and seemed to belong to entirely different races.

But wasn’t this the Drakeblood territory?

Why was there a large number of other figures?

Kaelith did not bother to soften it.

“That is why a city can exist here,” he said. “Because most of the people down there are not Drakeblood.”

Michael kept his gaze on the streets, still trying to reconcile what he was seeing with what he believed Hell should be.

Kaelith continued in the same calm tone.

“The Drakeblood can do it because this is not their population.”

Michael’s brow twitched. “Then whose is it?”

Kaelith’s voice lowered a fraction.

“Vassals.”

“The Drakeblood property.”

Michael’s stomach tightened.

Kaelith did not look down at the city this time.

“In the wider universe, a vassal race is not always conquered by slaughter,” he explained. “Sometimes it is conquered by contract, sometimes by debt, sometimes by protection.”

His gaze flicked to Michael.

“And sometimes it is conquered because a stronger race decides you are useful.”

Michael’s eyes returned to the streets.

The figures below were too diverse to be one people. Too many horn shapes, too many skin tones, too many physiques. A cluster of short, wide-shouldered beings moved past a group of lean, long-limbed ones.

A line of carts was pulled by creatures that looked like domesticated beasts, guided by humanoids that could have passed for humans if not for the ridges along their brows and the faint scales at their necks.

Michael’s jaw tightened. “Slaves.”

Kaelith did not correct him.

He only said, “The word changes depending on who is speaking.”

Michael exhaled slowly through his nose.

Kaelith gestured faintly with his chin toward the horizon.

“In Hell, technology is less reliable,” he said. “Not impossible, but limited. The environment disrupts many systems. Transportation channels are unstable. The deeper you go, the worse it becomes.”

He paused.

“So physical labor matters.”

Michael’s eyes narrowed slightly.

Kaelith continued. “The sixth floor has resources. Most races take the steady route of having combatants do the work themselves, either for training or whatever. The Drakeblood, on the other hand, chose efficiency and low cost.”

Michael already knew where this was going. He looked down now, and his expression barely changed.

“According to our sources and the blueprint other races use, they call it opportunity for their vassals.”

Michael’s eyes hardened.

Kaelith’s voice did not.

“The vassals are told they are climbing,” he said. “That serving their rulers is a ladder. Work hard and your children will gain better status.”

“And for some of them, it is even true.”

Kaelith spoke again.

“Most of the people you are seeing are not the original conquered ones,” he said. “They are their children.”

Michael’s chest rose, then fell.

He sighed, deep and tired, even though none of this had been done to him.

The universe really was brutal.

Kaelith did not respond to the emotion. He only finished the thought he had begun earlier.

“This is why other races do not do this,” he said. “Not because they cannot build a city.”

His eyes sharpened slightly.

“Because if you cannot hold it forever, then you are building a grave.”

He looked forward.

“And if you can hold it forever, then you must decide what you are willing to become to keep it running.”

“Most races don’t care. If it’s not their race, some don’t care, and some even go so far as to say if it’s not from our race, it is of another mind. This is the universe. It is also why every race strives for hegemony and the ability to remain on top.”

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A/N: Please vote to support and comment about the pace! I don’t know if it’s being to slow or could use a bit of speed! Thank you for reading!