It had changed more than he expected.

Not surprising, considering the scale of what had been happening these past days.

His eyes moved across the numbers, steady, focused, taking everything in without missing a detail.

Level forty.

He leaned back slightly, letting that settle.

From thirty-three to forty in just a few days.

That kind of growth would have been impossible under normal circumstances.

But this was not normal.

This was war.

And war fed him.

Aiden (Level: 40)

Class: Necromancer (Death God — Locked)

Basic-Grade Summon: 19

Bronze-Grade Summon: 30

Iron-Grade Summon: 0

Silver-Grade Summon: 0

Gold-Grade Summon: 0

Legendary-Grade Summon: 0

Mythical-Grade Summon: 0

Summon Slot Available: 49/78

Active Skills: Lord of the Dead, Bone Shield, Bone Spear, Undead Reinforcement, Undead Sight, Possession Command, Fear Pulse, Bone Armor, Grave Calling, Bone Prison, Corpse Explosion, Bone Rend, Grave Step

Passive Skills: Mana Channeling, Necrotic Sustain, Necrotic Reservoir, Undead Dominion, Death Aura, Death Duelist

Skill Points: 7

Subordinate: 5

Gold coins: 2321

Normal undead: 3270

Body Tempering undead: 10

He stared at the last part for a few seconds longer.

Three thousand two hundred eighty.

And still growing.

A slow smile formed on his face.

"They’re feeding me," he said quietly.

Every clash.

Every failed defense.

Every corpse they couldn’t protect.

All of it became his.

His fingers tapped lightly against the arm of the chair as his thoughts moved forward, already planning, already calculating.

"Still not enough," he added.

The number looked large.

But against a sect?

Against thousands more coming?

It was only the beginning.

His gaze shifted to another detail. In the seven skill points.

He didn’t move right away. Instead, his eyes shifted slightly downward, where something new had appeared beneath his list of available skills.

A faint glow.

Subtle, but unmistakable.

"...New skills," Aiden murmured.

With a thought, he opened the panel.

Five new entries appeared.

All of them still within the scope of an entry-level necromancer, just like he expected. The intermediate tier would come later. He remembered that much clearly.

But even entry-level skills, when used properly, could change the flow of a battlefield.

Aiden leaned forward slightly, his eyes sharpening as he began to read.

He read through the first one.

[Active Skills: Bone Spike Field

Aiden can summon multiple sharp bone spikes from the ground within a selected area, dealing piercing damage and briefly restricting movement of enemies caught within the zone. The spikes remain for a short duration, creating a hazardous battlefield that punishes positioning.]

Aiden leaned back slightly.

"...Area control," he muttered.

His gaze shifted to the next.

Aiden leaned back just a little as he read through it.

[Active Skills: Rotting Field

Creates a spreading zone of decay centered on a target area. Enemies within the field suffer gradual weakening of strength and slowed movement, while undead inside the same area gain minor reinforcement and resistance.]

A faint smile appeared.

"Control the battlefield itself," he said quietly.

Not direct damage.

But it would tilt every fight in his favor the longer it lasted.

The third active skill appeared.

[Active Skills: Bone March

Allows the user to temporarily enhance the movement speed and endurance of all undead under his control within a certain range. The effect grows stronger the larger the group, making mass advances faster and harder to stop.

"...That’s dangerous," he muttered.

Not for him.

For anyone facing him.

Aiden’s eyes lingered on the third entry a moment longer, already imagining how it would look on a real battlefield. A slow-moving tide suddenly turning into a rushing wave, thousands of undead closing the distance before the enemy could react properly.

"Speed was the only thing they had over my low level undead," he said quietly. "Not anymore."

He let that thought settle, then moved on.

The fourth entry appeared, its glow faint but steady.

[Active Skills: Grave Anchor

Creates a fixed point of necrotic energy on the battlefield that binds nearby undead to its influence. As long as they remain within range, their forms become more stable, reducing the chance of being destroyed by heavy blows and preventing them from being easily scattered or knocked back. The anchor persists for a limited time and can be repositioned.]

"...So they won’t break apart so easily," Aiden murmured.

It wasn’t about offense.

It was about control.

Holding ground.

Turning a chaotic clash into something that could be stabilized, reinforced, and maintained no matter how hard the enemy pushed.

His gaze sharpened slightly.

"That pairs well with formations."

The last entry appeared.

His eyes rested on it, reading the description slowly, more carefully than the others, as if he already expected something useful.

Then the details settled in.

[Passive Skill: Bone Density Reinforcement

Through continuous necrotic infusion, all undead made by Flesh Reclamation Pit develop a denser skeletal structure, reinforcing their core framework. This significantly reduces the damage taken from blunt force attacks such as strikes, impacts, and crushing blows, allowing them to withstand heavy hits that would normally shatter lesser undead. The effect strengthens gradually as the undead remain under Aiden’s control, making long-term units far more durable in sustained battles.]

Aiden’s fingers stopped tapping.

His expression didn’t change much, but his eyes sharpened just a little.

"...Blunt resistance," he said quietly.

His mind moved immediately, not just understanding the skill, but placing it into everything he had already seen on the battlefield.

Not lingering on the description for too long, because the moment he understood it, the decision had already begun to form.

Seven skill points.

Each skill required two.

He could only choose three.

Aiden leaned back slowly, his fingers tapping once against the armrest before going still, his gaze fixed on the faint glow of the panel in front of him. This was not something he could afford to choose poorly.

Not now.

Not in the middle of a war where every small advantage decided how many of his undead would return standing, and how many would be reduced to scattered fragments on the ground.

"Three choices," he murmured.

His eyes shifted back to the list.

Bone Spike Field.

Rotting Field.

Bone March.

Grave Anchor.

Bone Density Reinforcement.

Each one had value.

Each one could change the battlefield in its own way.

But not all of them mattered equally.

Not for him.

Not for the way he fought.

Aiden closed his eyes for a brief moment, replaying the past battles in his mind, not as memories, but as calculations. He saw his undead advancing, only to be crushed apart by heavy strikes. He saw formations breaking, not because they were overwhelmed, but because they could not hold under sustained pressure. He saw speed becoming an issue when the enemy chose to disengage, retreat, or reposition.

Then he opened his eyes again.

The hesitation was gone.

"The priority is clear," he said quietly.

His gaze settled on the first skill he had already decided on.

[Passive Skill: Bone Density Reinforcement]

"This one is not optional."

His voice was calm, but absolute.

Every weakness his army had, every point where they failed, it always came back to the same thing.

They broke too easily.

Without hesitation, he invested the points.

The faint glow around the skill flared briefly, then sank into the panel as if it had been absorbed.

A subtle shift passed through him.

Not power in the usual sense.

But connection.

Somewhere beyond the walls of his quarters, across the entire base, the undead stood in silence.

And something within them changed. Stronger, denser, and more resistant.

Aiden exhaled softly.

"Good."

Five points left, so two more choices.

His eyes moved again.

This time, they didn’t linger on Bone Spike Field for long.

"Damage isn’t the problem," he muttered.

He already had more than enough ways to kill.

What he needed was control.

Stability.

The ability to dictate how the battle unfolded.

His gaze shifted to the next.

[Active Skill: Grave Anchor]

He read it again, slower this time.

Then he nodded slightly.

"This one."

The decision came just as easily.

His army wasn’t losing because they lacked numbers.

They were losing ground because they couldn’t hold it.

Grave Anchor would fix that.

Another investment.

Another pulse of energy.

Aiden felt it again, deeper this time, as if something rooted itself into his control over the battlefield itself.

Three points left.

One final choice.

This time, he didn’t decide immediately.

His eyes moved across the remaining options more carefully.

Rotting Field.

Bone March.

Bone Spike Field.

Three different approaches.

Slow them.

Outpace them.

Or control space directly.

Aiden’s fingers tapped once more, slower now.

Then he stopped.

"...Mobility," he said.

That had been the one advantage the humans still held.

Even when pressured, they could pull back, reorganize, choose where to fight.

He couldn’t allow that to continue.

His gaze settled firmly on the skill.

[Active Skill: Bone March]

A faint smile appeared.

"If they run," he said quietly, "they die faster."

The last two points were spent.

The panel flickered once more, then stabilized, the chosen skills settling into place as if they had always been there.

Bone Density Reinforcement.

Grave Anchor.

Bone March.

Aiden leaned back again, the glow fading completely now.

Outside, the night remained quiet.

But beneath that quiet, everything had already changed.

His undead were no longer the same as before.

They would not break as easily.

They would not be scattered as easily.

And they would no longer be outrun.

Aiden’s gaze drifted slightly, unfocused, as he imagined the next battle.

A slow, quiet smile formed again.

"Let’s see how my new undead army would fare against the humans," he said.

This time, there was a trace of anticipation in his voice.