In battles he could manage on his own, Michael had a habit of relying on himself.
It was a habit he knew carried both advantages and drawbacks.
Michael wasn't against using his undead. His talent just made it so he hadn't gotten used to.the point like other necromancers, he was heavily dependent on his undead.
But there was one thing Michael never compromised on.
If the situation demanded it, he would not hesitate to call upon his undead.
The instant a blinding light erupted from Rynne—who now somewhat radiated the aura of an epic-grade artifact—Michael made his decision.
Without delay, he summoned his Rank 3 undead.
A blinding light erupted from Rynne's outstretched hands the very moment Michael began summoning.
It wasn't just bright—it was absolute. The kind of radiance that swallowed everything.
The beam surged forward like a pillar of divine wrath, roaring across the space with the force of a collapsing star.
