Evolving My Undead Legion In A Game-Like World

The auctioneer raised both hands, gesturing for silence. "Let me remind you," he said smoothly, "that dark elves are a mythical race rarely seen in the kingdoms of men."

He turned slightly, allowing the light to catch the silver hair of the girl in the cage. She didn’t flinch or blink, merely stared at the crowd with cool, dispassionate eyes.

"They are born attuned to the shadow. Their bodies are lean, but their strength is deceptive—muscle density, bone structure, reflexes, and nerve response all outclass even trained humans. From birth, they are simply more."

A pause.

"This one," he said, "has been measured at the peak of the Advanced Stage in terms of energy and physical readings. But let me be very clear. That only applies when using human standards."

Michael’s eyes sharpened.

"Dark elves, even at the same ’level,’ are naturally superior. Their bodies age slower. Their minds process faster. Their mana flow is cleaner, more instinctive. This girl before you may be listed as ’Advanced Stage’—but in practical combat, she has already overwhelmed two advanced-tier knights during her attempted assassination."

The room stirred again. A few nobles leaned forward, eyes narrowing with greed, interest, or concern.

"And yes," the auctioneer added, his tone dropping lower, "her presence here is no accident. She was captured after a failed assassination attempt on a noble lord."

"Why wasn’t she executed?" a voice called from the floor.