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Chapter 15 - Transmigrated into an Undead

However, it wasn't that easy. Every class available on the list was locked for a reason, and Michael had to prove himself before being allowed to make use of those classes.

Those classes themselves had a say in this as well, as Michael would soon find out.

And the instant that the Spellcaster class was unlocked due to his desire, Michael felt his spirit vacated his body, shocking him greatly.

He immediately tried to hold onto his spirit since it was the most important thing he had, right next to his soul, of course. Spirits and Souls were not the same thing, as Michael had come to realize.

Unfortunately, whatever forces grab hold of his spirit was exceedingly powerful. Despite his effort, he knew he would surely lose the tug-of-war. It was only the matter of time, and the moment that he lost the fight, Deus came to his mind. It was right before darkness claimed his consciousness.

Within the pitch blackness known as the Void, an unfamiliar voice spoke to Michael, and he could not do anything but listen.

It was not possible to block out the voice since Michael had no access to his body or his soul. The only thing that he had access to right now was his consciousness.

Or more correctly to state, his spirit.

Many beings had mistaken a soul was a spirit and used the terms interchangeably. A soul did not have a consciousness. A soul was merely a power source. The spirit was what dwelled within the soul, thus it was what made the person.

"You are seeking to make use of me? Very well, but you must do something for me first, Champion of Order. One of my greatest wielders had been unjustly killed by the very thing he had desired to protect most. I was unable to prevent his spirit from entering the cycle…"

Michael wanted to response, but his voice could not be found. This was because he had not figure out how to speak on the spiritual level. He was quite new to all of this, as it had only been half a day since he was forcibly ascended.

But in all honesty, even if Michael had cultivated and reinforced his spirit and soul in the short amount of time he had, he would still lose the tug-of-war in the end.

The owner of this voice in the darkness was far beyond him in terms of power. Against such being, he could only submit. Fighting against it was pointless, especially when it did not seem to mean him any harm, other than ripping his consciousness right out of his body and soul.

"You do not need to speak. Only to listen. I am known as the Source, one of many. Without my consent, you will never be able to wield the power of a Spellcaster. Likewise, without the consents of the other Sources, you will not be able to wield their power either."

There was a moment of silence.

"It seems that I am not supposed to tell you those things. Nevertheless, I have already spoken, so can you please forget them?"

Michael had nothing to say to that. Did the voice really ask him to erase his own memory? It seems to be the case.

Like hell he would, considering it had dragged him into the Void and told him things that he had never asked.

"Perhaps, it is my fault."

Michael rolled his nonexistent eyes at that. It certainly wasn't his fault.

"You do not need to rub it in. Even if you are a Champion of Order, you are still an insignificant insect, and I could crush you as easily as an ant. Isn't that what you have been doing all afternoon?"

Michael sighed and decided not to aggravate whatever this being was. Apparently, it was below Deus in term of hierarchy, or it would have just wiped his memory and started from the beginning. Sure, he wouldn't remember anything if it did that, but Deus certainly would.

Since this being could read his mind, Michael decided to tell it to get on with whatever it wanted him to do. Either that or return him back to his apartment, as he had better things to do.

Michael could afford to be this bold, as he had a fairly good understanding of what this being was from what it had revealed to him so far, on accident too.

"As I was saying before you had interrupted, one of my greatest wielders had been killed. Unjustly so. No. He was murdered. Murdered! I am furious. Enraged. I would like to destroy those responsible very much, but I am not allowed to interfere. You can, however, on my behalf. No. Not mine. His behalf."

Michael pondered for a moment before giving his thought on the matter. He would help enact revenge in exchange for the ability to use the Spellcaster class, but he liked to be able to do more than that. It was, after all, the Spellcaster Source had requested something of him.

"Very well. Complete the task, and I will make your effort worthwhile. Fail, and you will never be able to cast a single spell for as long as I exist."

Michael tensed up. It seemed like he had bite more than he could chew. The old him would have never attempt such a bargain, but he was tired of the old him. He wanted to change. He wanted to be more than he had ever been.

Still, failure meant that Michael would never be able to cast a spell. Would he still be able to use magic though? Spells and magics were connected, but they were not the same thing. Furthermore, he wasn't sure if he had the stomach to kill someone even if they were evil enough to unjustly murder someone.

Killing was morally wrong, but sometimes, justice required such sacrifice. The world was not black and white. It was mainly dark shade of grey.

While Michael was still pondering on the matter, bright lights speared through the darkness, and he found himself looking down at a skeleton.

"What the fuck!?" Michael screamed and fell backwards, crashing against another skeleton, breaking that in his fall. His eyes would have widened at the mountain of bones around him. Unfortunately, he did not have any eyes to widen.

Michael was also a skeleton. A moving skeleton!