Michaelâs voice was barely more than a whisper.
But the moment he spoke those words, a chill spread down his spine.
It wasnât fear. Not quite yet.
It was more like
unease.
A kind of phantom itch just beneath the skinâan instinct honed by countless hours relying on undead that were nothing more than loyal minions. Minions that never questioned, never wavered, never thought.
Now?
He
felt
something.
Not cold obedience.
Not mindless loyalty.
Just Spartanâs presence.
He felt something in
there
âhowever, it was not like a puppet waiting for strings, but like a soldier acknowledging a general.
Respectful. But aware.
Michaelâs brows drew together.
To himself, he thought:
If Spartan wanted to... could he fight me now?
The possibility had never once occurred to him before. It shouldnât even
exist.
For the first time since becoming a necromancer, Michael felt a flicker of
insecurity.
It wasnât that he believed Spartan
would
rebel.
It was that he now realized Spartan
could.
The difference was subtle.
But
devastating.
His connection with Spartan hadnât vanished. It hadnât even grown weaker in the way most would notice.
But Michael
felt
it. That unshakable, absolute control he had before? The leash?
It had turned into a thread.
Still strong. Still taut.
But no longer iron.
No longer
unchallengeable.
Michael sat down again, exhaling slowly.
His gaze didnât leave Spartan.
The undead mage remained motionless, as obedient as everâbut now, Michael couldnât shake the feeling that something fundamental had changed.
And then the realization struck.
Taming had overridden the necromantic link.
It had been a masterâservant bond forged through death magic but now it felt like they were...
equal.
Not entirely equalâMichael still held dominance in the contract. But barely. Like a man with high seniority, not absolute sovereignty.
And worseâSpartanâs strength wasnât
that
far from Michael.
The closer in power the tamer was to the beast, the more the contract leaned toward parity. Mutual recognition.
So with Spartan?
It wasnât masterâservant anymore.
It was
partnerâpartner.
Michael dragged a hand down his face.
"...Shit."
He wasnât angry.
He wasnât even upset at Spartan.
But heâd uncovered a truth that undermined the very
Michael sighed again.
Heâd have to rethink everything.
His entire legion. His entire path.
Taming has its advantagesâbut at what cost?
Was it worth the loss of control?
Michael didnât know yet.
But one thing was clear.
Heâd crossed a line.
Michael leaned forward, elbows on his knees, mind racing.
The weight of realization still clung to him like a heavy cloak.
But then, something else stirred in his thoughts.
The contract scrolls.
He blinked, the memory slotting in like a missing puzzle piece. Back at the auction, heâd been given several [Master-Servant Contract Scrolls] by the auction manager. Three, to be exact. Identical to the one used to bind Lyra.
Michael reached into his storage space, rummaging mentally through the organized lists of items until he found it.
A soft shimmer lit the air in front of him as the scroll appeared.
Michaelâs lips pressed into a line.
Could this... overwrite the new [Taming] contract?
Could he undo what heâd just done and restore things to the way they were?
He didnât know. But if there was even a chance...
Michaelâs eyes drifted toward his panel.
[Tamed Creatures: 2/5]
[Contract Slots Used: 104/125]
"...One slot dropped?" Michael muttered.
Previously, it had been 105.
Which meant...
Michaelâs jaw tightened. "Taming... doesnât share contract slots."
It
converted
them.
One of his necromantic contracts had been consumed, rewritten, restructured under the new system.
The necromantic leash had become a [Taming] threadâand in doing so, had freed up one slot.
He was effectively trading control for connection. Command for subtle consent.
And now, with the scroll in hand, Michael found himself hesitating.
This wasnât just about Spartan.
This was about his undead army.
How many would he eventually try taming?
Taming after all had its own advantages.
Michael closed his eyes for a moment, letting the silence stretch.
Maybe... it wasnât all that bad.
If the bond between beast tamers and their creatures was truly weak, then beast taming would be the weakest profession in the universeâand it wasnât.
Michael exhaled through his nose, leaning further into his thoughts.
The loss of absolute obedience was a blow, yes. But it wasnât without compensation.
Spartan was an undead.
That alone made things... different.
Sure, his intelligence had grown over time. Many of Michaelâs older undead had begun mimicking behaviors, emotions, even basic individuality. But they were still undead. At the core of it, how many true emotions could an undead even possess?
Loyalty?
Sure.
Anger?
Maybe.
Love? Compassion? Ambition?
Unlikely.
The truth was, even with the new [Taming] bond, Spartan was still fundamentally undead. His loyalty wasnât just programmedâit was a part of what he was.
So perhaps the change wasnât as devastating as it felt.
In fact... it might be manageable.
Michael opened his eyes and looked at the scroll again.
He thought about what would happen if he used it.
Would it restore the old necromantic control?
He didnât think so now that he thought of it.
If it was anything like what happened with Lyra, it would likely come with side effects. The contract scrolls were powerful, yesâbut also rigid. They werenât designed to interface with the Awakener system.
If he forced one over Spartan now... chances were heâd break the new link, maybe even prevent future growth. Lyraâs experience had proven that. Once bound by the scroll, she couldnât level up through the Awakener system.
Michael wouldnât risk that.
He tossed the scroll back into his storage space with a flick of his hand.
If control came at the cost of stagnation... then it wasnât worth it.
Better to find balance.
Michaelâs eyes were half-lidded with thought.
"Iâm also at fault."
Michael felt if he actually
understood
the structure of spellsâif he wasnât so reliant on the automated casting through his system panelâmaybe he couldâve done something now. Like re-engineer the contract and adjusted the framework of the bond so he wouldnât lose control the way he did.
But no.
All heâd ever done was use what was handed to him. He had never really thought heâd need to understand the
why
behind it all. Only the
how.
Now it was biting him in the ass.
Michaelâs mind wandered inevitably to the college exams just a few days away. The exams that determined whether heâd qualify for one of the Awakener Academies.
He still didnât take the academy as something like a school.
He believes itâs more like an organisation.
What could they possibly teach someone with a system?
But now?
Michael ran a hand through his hair, letting out a dry breath.
Now, he help but to think about it again.
Maybe the Academy was exactly what it claimed to be: a holy land of knowledge. A place where you didnât just grow strongerâyou learned
why
things worked,
how
they functioned, and
what
existed beyond what the system spoon-fed.
If he passed... he could dig into real spell theory. Contract theory.
If he passed... he could learn.
And if he learned enoughâthen maybe next time, he wouldnât be fumbling in the dark.
Maybe next time, heâd know enough to design a bond
his way
.
Not just accept the defaults the system handed him.
Michaelâs gaze drifted back toward Spartan, who stood quietly.
A part of him relaxedâjust a little. It wasnât like heâd completely lost the bond. It was just... different now.
Michael drew in a slow breath.
He stared at his open system panel, fingers twitching slightly at a thought that refused to leave his head now.
What if I tried teaching Spartan a skill?
The [Taming] interface had two functionsâCopy and Teach. He had already used Copy. It was on cooldown. But Teach... that one was still active.
He hadnât tried it yet.
But now, as he sat thereâSpartan still within armâs reach, the eerie silence between them growing heavier by the secondâit tugged at his curiosity like a lure.
"Could it work?" he muttered.
[Undead High Human â Tamed Creature â Eligible for Skill Transfer]
That was what the panel read.
Michael stared at the [Teach] button on the panel like it might bite him. A part of him wanted to press it immediately. But another part... the more paranoid part... hesitated.
The skill copy had succeeded at 20%.
That was already a statistical miracle.
No one got that lucky twice.
It was either going to work... or it wasnât.
And if he was going to test this, better it be nowâwhile he was still experimenting.
Michaelâs eyes roamed over his skill list.
He picked one at random.
If he was going to be unlucky, then let it be with something he didnât put effort in. And if by some cosmic joke, he
did
get lucky again...
A low chime echoed in his head.
[Attempting skill transfer to Tamed Creature...]
[Initiating transfer...]
[Skill successfully taught.]
[Undead Revival â {Basic Mastery} has been taught]