Chapter 144: First Name

Cassian dismissed the status panel and turned his attention to the High Undead Arachnid standing before him.

At first glance, it resembled the other Arachnid undead surrounding it. Its body was encased in a glossy black carapace, and eight dark eyes were arranged across its face, granting it an unnervingly wide field of vision.

Sharp mandibles protruded from its mouth, while its slender fingers ended in razor-sharp talons capable of tearing through flesh with little effort.

However, a closer inspection revealed several key differences.

Compared to the other Arachnids, its body was slighter, more compact, and streamlined. Its limbs were proportioned for greater agility rather than brute strength.

The joints along its arms and legs were less pronounced, and its carapace fitted tightly against its frame, leaving fewer exposed gaps.

The most striking distinction was the golden mark etched into its forehead.

It resembled an intricate emblem, its delicate lines forming a pattern that contrasted sharply with the creature’s dark exterior.

The mark seemed to be a permanent structural feature, setting it apart from every other Arachnid in the chamber.

Cassian studied the creature for a moment before glancing at the rest of the unit.

Apart from variations in their potential grades, the remaining Arachnids looked virtually identical to one another.

Their bodies retained the same general structure, and none possessed the golden mark that adorned the High Undead Arachnid’s forehead.

’So this is what happens when an undead race advances to High.’

He committed the observation to memory before returning his attention to the creature before him.

”Do you remember your name from when you were alive?”

The Arachnid remained on one knee. Its eight eyes lifted toward Cassian, and after a brief pause, it lowered its head respectfully.

”My apologies, my lord. I cannot remember my former name.”

Cassian nodded.

He wasn’t particularly surprised. Ordinary undead troops generally didn’t retain memories of their previous lives, unlike Champions, whose souls often preserved fragments of their former identities.

He had hoped that elevating its status to a High Race might bypass this limitation.

Unfortunately, it seemed the advancement had enhanced the Arachnid’s racial characteristics without restoring its lost memories.

’That’s a shame.’

Cassian studied the golden emblem on its forehead once more before making a decision.

”Since you no longer remember your name, why don’t I give you one?”

Nyxara’s eyes widened slightly.

She glanced at Cassian, then at the kneeling Arachnid, wondering if she had misheard him.

Ever since her Lord had begun summoning undead, she had never seen him bother to name any of his troops.

He had summoned thousands upon thousands of skeletons, created powerful Commanders, and assembled an army of unusual undead creatures.

Yet not once had he felt the need to name them individually.

Why had he suddenly changed his approach?

Unable to contain her curiosity, Nyxara spoke up. “My Lord, why have you decided to give this undead a name?”

Cassian turned toward her. “Honestly? I don’t know. I just feel like a name would suit him.”

Nyxara stared at him.

‘That’s it?’

She had expected a profound explanation involving his newfound understanding of High Races or a hidden mechanic within the Lord’s Domain.

Instead, he had simply decided on a whim that the creature deserved a name.

Cassian paused as he considered her question, a realization striking him. “Although, you’re right. I should probably name the others when we return.”

Briefly, he wondered why the thought had never occurred to him before.

His summons had always been tools for growth, conquest, and survival. Even the Champions he treated as individuals were often distinguished by their classifications and abilities rather than any special consideration he gave their names.

Perhaps he had simply been too occupied with developing his army to think about something so trivial. Or perhaps he had never felt the need.

Either way, he didn’t dwell on it.

Cassian turned back to the High Undead Arachnid. “Do you have any preferences? Any name you would like me to give you?”

The creature’s eight eyes blinked in unison. After a brief moment of consideration, it lowered its head even further.

”My lord, whatever name you bestow upon me would be an honor. I have no preference of my own, and I would gladly accept any name you deem appropriate.”

Cassian nodded thoughtfully.

‘Now, what should I call him?’

He examined the creature again, taking in its compact frame, eight eyes, sharp mandibles, and the golden mark on its forehead.

It was an unusual existence.

Once, it had been an alien belonging to another civilization. After its death, Cassian had resurrected it, fused it with more than a thousand corpses, and elevated its race to an entirely new classification.

It had lost its former identity, yet it had gained a new beginning. A name should reflect that.

Cassian considered several possibilities, discarding each one after a few seconds. Some sounded too grandiose, while others failed to capture the creature’s unique nature.

Then, a name came to mind. It was simple, memorable, and carried a quiet strength.

More importantly, it suited a creature that had emerged from the remnants of its former existence to become something entirely new.

Cassian smiled faintly. “From this moment onward, your name will be Silas.”

For a brief instant, the golden mark on the Arachnid’s forehead caught the chamber’s dim light, flaring softly.

Silas lowered his head until it nearly touched the floor. “I accept this name with gratitude, my lord.”

Cassian watched him for a moment before nodding in satisfaction. “Good. Rise, Silas.”

The High Undead Arachnid obeyed, unfolding its slender limbs as it rose to its full height.

Cassian looked at the creature, then at the other undead awaiting his commands. His development was becoming more interesting by the minute.

And if he was right about the possibilities ahead, Silas would only be the beginning.

….

Cassian turned toward Nyxara, who was standing beside Silas.

”By the way, did you happen to see any spaceships while you were gathering the corpses?”

Nyxara raised an eyebrow. “Spaceships?”

Cassian paused.

‘Right. She isn’t from this world.’

He had grown so accustomed to having Nyxara around that he occasionally forgot she wasn’t familiar with the advanced technology of the Astral Dominion.

To her, a spaceship was probably no different from some strange, foreign artifact.

”A vessel designed to travel through space,” he explained. “It usually has an enclosed cabin, powerful engines at the rear, and a hull built to withstand the void outside a planet’s atmosphere. Some are enormous, capable of transporting thousands of troops, while others are small enough for a single pilot.”

Nyxara’s violet eyes widened slightly as understanding dawned. “Oh! I did see something like that.”

Cassian’s interest immediately sharpened. “Where?”