Chapter 12: Class Prez
Low growls escaped their helms as they lowered their heads. Corrupted by the memory core’s adverse effects, these souls had lost basic functions—like speech. But in exchange, they had gained one thing: the ability to fight.
’Verdict.’
Design Name: [Vulture]
Compactability: 35%
Rank: D+
Trait: [Plague of Rot — Spreads rot and death wherever it goes. Cuts from a Vulture rot quickly and infect fast!]
Final Verdict: [A great craft—not a masterpiece, but an innovative creation. Congratulations! You’ve weaved a design with a potent trait. Make more. An army of Vultures should be your desire.]
Merek leaned against the wall, drained of strength. These undead were of medium build, each weighing around 115 kilograms. As he gazed at them, his vision blurred until he eventually drifted off to sleep.
Hours later, a loud, rapid knock on the storage room door jolted him awake.
Groaning, Merek rose. As he blinked the sleep from his eyes, a faint clink of metal drew his attention left. Standing in the shadow beneath the narrow window were two Vulture undead. Their chains rattled softly with each slight movement.
Both were level 4. He quickly realized: his newly weaved creations would always be five levels below his own. Leveling up became a top priority.