Evolving My Undead Legion In A Game-Like World

Chapter 378: Chapter 378 Duke Evermoon [2]

Michael let his senses stretch outward—slowly, carefully.

He probed the knights stationed at the entrance.

What he sensed made his brows knit slightly.

Each one of those knights… wasn’t ordinary.

Intermediate stage, at least.

Several had the steady, compact mana of advanced stage knights—likely captains of the Duke’s household guard. Their mana was well-contained, their auras faint but sharp.

And that was just the gate.

Michael exhaled softly and let his awareness retract.

The door to the carriage clicked open.

Peter, the blue-robed man who’d accompanied him all the way here and made sure Michael remembered his name, stepped out first. He turned back and motioned gently, a practiced smile on his face.

Michael followed.

Peter led him deeper into the estate when an elderly man soon approached them.

The man who approached from within the estate wore a finely-tailored black and silver uniform. He was older, with streaks of grey at his temples and a sharpness in his eyes that hadn’t dulled with age. His stride was even, and the moment Michael focused on him, his instincts flared.

Advanced stage knight.

Michael’s lips pressed into a faint line.

Peter stepped forward, offering a formal introduction. “Steward Darnel, this is the winner of the Grand Tournament. He has accepted the Duke’s reward and seeks an audience with the duke.”

“Viscount Mic Nor,” the steward was taken back and spoke with a courteous bow. “Welcome to the Evermoon estate. I am Darnel. I shall escort you to the Duke’s waiting hall.”

Michael gave a slight nod.

Darnel looked Michael over once, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his eyes.

Then he turned to Peter. “Understood. I’ll see to the rest of the preparations personally.”

Michael didn’t say much. He just followed after waving goodbye to Peter.

The path they took was almost absurd in scale.

Everything about the estate felt like it was built to remind you of power—each step echoing through open-air stone corridors, past manicured gardens and rows of ornamental trees.

As they walked, Michael kept his senses half-open. Even deeper in, he could sense knights patrolling the estate. Some stronger. One or two… stronger than Darnel himself.

He narrowed his eyes.

How many advanced stage knights did this place have?

He was starting to wonder if even entering the place with hostile intent would have ended in a single breath’s worth of failure.

Eventually, they came to a large archway leading into the central estate.

Two massive doors stood at its heart, carved with the same moon-and-stars sigil.

Before them stood two more knights.

But these ones… Michael blinked.

Their presence felt deeper. Denser.

Peak-stage? No… not quite. But close. Very close.

By peak stage, with his experience, even without the use of {Detect}, Michael could tell that the levels of these knights were already in their early twenties.

With a gesture from Darnel, the doors began to creak open.

Inside was a long corridor lined with red carpeting and golden fixtures. It curved gently, flanked by tall stained-glass windows that let in slanted beams of colored light.

As they stepped into the grand corridor, Michael’s footsteps softened against the thick red carpet, yet the silence of the estate pressed down all the same. The air here was different—cool, deliberate. Controlled.

“You’re fortunate Viscount Mic Nor,” Darnel said suddenly, his voice low but clear.

Michael glanced sideways.

“To have come at a time the Duke is actually present,” the steward continued, hands folded behind his back as he walked steadily ahead. “He’s often away, attending to matters of the court, or touring his holdings across the Kingdom.”

“So some even wait months for an audience.”

Michael didn’t say anything.

However Darnel revealed something.

He didn’t seem aware that the Duke already had plans to see him.

Michael also didn’t feel lucky.

If anything, he felt like he was walking into a den of tigers with a rabbit’s soul.

The corridor branched at the end, and they turned into a narrower hallway, still well-decorated but far less ostentatious. The guards here were fewer, but sharper.

Eventually, they reached a tall wooden door, etched with mana runes faintly glowing beneath the grain.

“The Duke’s waiting hall,” Darnel said, halting beside it.

He turned to Michael.

“You’ll wait here until summoned, Sir. If the Duke does not arrive in the next hour, I’ll return to update you. The time may be longer, or shorter, depending on his disposition.”

Michael nodded. “Understood.”

Darnel gave a slight bow. “If I may say, Viscount Mic Nor…”

Michael raised a brow.

“Nevermind sir.”

In the end, the steward said nothing

Then, with a turn as crisp as a blade’s edge, Darnel walked off, the soft tap of his boots fading into the quiet.

Michael stared after him for a second, then slowly pushed open the door and stepped inside.

The waiting hall was… lavish.

It wasn’t a place built for comfort. It was built for intimidation.

A pair of glass chandeliers hung from the ceiling, glittering like mana crystals.

Rich purple drapes lined the walls, and the chairs—no, thrones—were arranged in a circle in a straight orderly line.

Michael didn’t sit.

He walked slowly toward one of the high, arched windows and looked out.

From here, he could see the outer gardens. Knights trained there in the distance, locked in drills with wooden weapons that struck like iron. The estate truly was a small world of its own.Michael folded his arms and leaned slightly against the cold window frame.

“I wonder how the Duke is in person.”

He muttered the words quietly, more to himself than anyone else, yet they hung in the air like a weight.

Everything so far had painted the man as untouchable—powerful, elusive, larger than life. But Michael had met powerful people before. People with terrifying strength. People like the Princess.

He knew power came in different flavors.

Some wielded it like a sword—sharp and direct.

Others wore it like perfume—subtle, intoxicating, and dangerous in ways you didn’t notice until it was too late.

Michael had no idea which one Duke Evermoon was.

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