SSS Talent: My Undead Evolve Without Limits

As Zarvok’s body hit the stone floor, the creature that killed him pulled its bare hand back.

It stood in the center of the ruined room, towering and powerful. Its skin was pitch-black, covered in glowing blue-green markings that ran across its chest and arms.

Two long, beautiful horns curved upward from its head, and its eyes shone with a steady green light. Though its muscular build gave it a posture close to a human’s, it was clearly a monster, radiating raw physical power.

Malrik looked over Biggie’s new form, taking in the changes brought by his evolution.This idiot... his physical strength and speed have increased to an absurd level, and yet he’s still only at the Rare Rank.

Malrik’s gaze lingered on the two long horns and the strange blue-green markings covering Biggie’s pitch-black skin.

I wonder what he’ll look like when he reaches the Epic Rank.

" I have to give the idiot some credit. Without his memories of Zarvok’s habits, this plan wouldn’t have gone nearly this smoothly."

Through his connection with Biggie, Malrik had managed to glimpse fragments of the memories inherited by Biggie’s soul.

They had given him a rough idea of the leader and his subordinates, how many there were, where they were stationed, and even some of their abilities.

Of all of them, Zarvok had been the best place to start. His habit of spending his free time away from the main camp had given Malrik the perfect opportunity to strike without alerting the others.

Perhaps I should stop calling him an idiot.

Sensing Malrik’s gaze, Biggie turned his head, his glowing green eyes wide with childish excitement. It was a completely ridiculous expression on a terrifying monster with razor-sharp claws.

"Master!" Biggie gasped, striking a classic bodybuilder pose and flexing his right arm so hard the blue-green markings flared across his biceps. "Do you see? Biggie got new muscles!"

Without waiting for an answer, he spun around, bent over slightly, and vigorously flexed his back, puffing his chest out.

"Look, Master! Look at Biggie’s back!" he grinned, striking another pose. "Is Biggie handsome now? Does Master love Biggie’s new look?"

Malrik stared at him in dead silence,a slight twitch appearing at the corner of his eye

"No." Malrik thought, his jaw tightening. "The name ’idiot’ actually fits him perfectly."

The urge to punch the giant brute directly in his newly evolved face instantly doubled.

He slowly rubbed the bridge of his nose and quickly looked away before his fist moved on its own. Focusing back on the task at hand, Malrik raised one hand toward Zarvok’s corpse.

A faint green light rose from the body as Zarvok’s soul was drawn out. In the next instant, it took physical form before Malrik, completely restored and without a trace of the wounds that had killed him.

Zarvok immediately dropped to one knee before Malrik, bowing his head in total submission.

Malrik looked down at him and spoke simply. "Excellent."

Before anything else could be done, voices called out from down the path outside.

"Commander Zarvok? Is everything alright in there? We heard a noise!"

Malrik didn’t speak. Through the dark bond linking them, he sent a direct command straight to Zarvok’s mind.

Recieving the order, Zarvok immediately stood up, turned toward the entrance, and shouted in his booming, reptilian voice: "Nothing is wrong! Stay where you are and make sure no one disturbs me!"

Outside, a couple of Morveth guards burst into loud laughter.

"Alright, alright, Commander!" one of them yelled back, chuckling. "We’ll keep everyone away! Enjoy your night!"

"Don’t tear the place down!" another added, laughing as their footsteps faded into the distance.

As soon as the guards were gone, Malrik ended his fusion with Lokris. The silver mask and black outfit dissolved into shadows, returning Malrik to his normal human appearance.

Beside him, Lokris returned to his true form, shaping his strange black material into a human-like figure. A silver mask covered his face, hiding all of his features.

Malrik turned to Lokris and gave a quiet order. "Begin your work now."

"Yes, my king." Lokris nodded and stepped toward Zarvok’s corpse, his gaze shifting between the lifeless body on the ground and Zarvok’s resurrected soul standing before him.

Inside the command post, Vorgath sat quietly on his stone throne, his eyes closed. His large, muscular frame remained perfectly still.

A few paces away, Varkhane sat on a stool, slowly running a whetstone along his broadsword. He was a black Fallen with a lean, strong build, two large black wings folded against his back, and sharp, raven-like features.

The soft, regular sound of metal scraping against stone was the only noise in the room.

The thick flap at the entrance lifted, and heavy footsteps walked inside.

Varkhane didn’t look up immediately. "Back already?" he asked with a dry smirk. "Did those women run out of wine, or did they get tired of your bragging?"

"Zarvok" walked into the warm light of the braziers, rolling one broad shoulder. His crimson scales, massive frame, and dark armor were completely identical to the real Zarvok.

"They were getting boring," "Zarvok" grunted, tossing the half-empty wooden cup onto the table. "Besides, I can’t spend the whole night slacking. There’s work to do."

Varkhane paused his whetstone, raising an eyebrow. "Work? Since when do you care about work before noon?"

"Zarvok" leaned his hands on the edge of the map table, acting confident and relaxed. "I saw movement near the eastern tree line on my way back. Looks like a small squad of human rats trying to sneak past our lines."

Varkhane chuckled, sliding his whetstone into his belt. "Then send some grunts to handle it."

"And let them have all the fun?" "Zarvok" sneered, a hint of his usual arrogance in his voice. "Come on. Grab your sword. We’ll deal with them ourselves."

Varkhane stood and slid his sword into its sheath with a quiet click. "Fine. But if we find nothing, you’re buying the next bottle of wine."

Throughout the conversation, Vorgath had remained silent on his throne. But as Varkhane stepped toward the exit, Vorgath slowly opened his dark eyes.

Vorgath remained seated on his throne, quietly listening as "Zarvok" and Varkhane continued their conversation. Lokris had no idea what the commander was thinking, so he simply stayed in character and continued with his plan.

"Zarvok," Vorgath spoke up, his deep voice filling the tent.

"Zarvok" turned his head naturally. "What is it, Commander?"

"Did Commander Malakor confirm the movement on the eastern ridge before you came back?" Vorgath asked quietly.

Inside the disguise, Lokris didn’t have Zarvok’s memories. The name Malakor meant nothing to him, but he couldn’t let that show. He kept his expression calm and answered as naturally as he could.

"Yeah," "Zarvok" replied smoothly, nodding. "Malakor saw them too. That’s why I came to get Varkhane."

Silence fell over the room.

Vorgath slowly stood up from his stone throne, his towering frame casting a long shadow across the floor. His expression remained completely cold.

"There is no commander by that name in the vanguard," Vorgath said softly. His gaze hardened. "Who the hell are you... and where is Zarvok?"

Varkhane froze mid-step. His eyes widened, and his hand instantly dropped back to the hilt of his blade as he looked between Vorgath and "Zarvok."

Lokris stood inside Zarvok’s body, realizing that he had been deceived.

He didn’t panic or try to come up with another excuse. Instead, "Zarvok’s" reptilian jaw slowly curled into a wide smile.

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