Ark Undead

This is the tragedy of being a deep-sea hunter, the unavoidable loneliness in one's destiny.

But the immortals' attention had already been drawn to something else.

"coming."

The undead, carrying a giant sword, suddenly moved, smashing through the window in front of him and leaping into the dark snowy night.

Skadi was about to chase after him to ask what was wrong when she heard a painful scream in the deep darkness.

That was the invisible pain screamed out by the monster as its body was cleaved open.

Skadi was startled and jumped out as well, trying to find the Undead's figure in the darkness.

In that snowy night, a figure engulfed in flames was gripping the monster's limbs, and he was dragging the monster away from the town.

"Stop!"

Skadi cried out in exasperation, then picked up her greatsword and ran after them.

Snowflakes and tiny ice shards mingled in the strong wind, lashing against Skadi's face. But Skadi kept her eyes wide open, undeterred by the wind and snow.

Surprisingly, the figure in the distance, engulfed in flames, remained steadfastly burning amidst the storm-like snow and ice, and the intensity of the heat and the raging flames continued to rise.

The two ran one after the other out of Bihun Town and stopped about two kilometers away.

"Let go of that thing in your hand! Be careful not to get hurt!"

Skadi issued another warning: if any part of the Undead is injured by the monster, it will lead to a fatal outcome.

But the Undead remained indifferent, his gaze through the gaps in his helmet fixed on the monster. His serious expression suggested that he wasn't looking at the monster itself, but rather trying to see the shadows hidden behind it.

But no matter how carefully he observed, he couldn't capture the shadow behind the empty shell.

The will that had originally descended had already withdrawn its tentacles upon sensing an indescribable existence, and scattered in fear.

Then flames ignited in the hands of the undead.

Unlike the constantly flashing flame patterns on the armor, this is real flame.

The bright, crimson flames, like a sun, burned Skadi's eyes in the dark night.

She saw flames coming out of the monster's mouth.

She saw that the burning itself had caused the monster's once-sturdy skin to become shriveled and withered.

In just a few seconds of burning, this tentacle-covered body completely withered. Even its highly toxic bodily fluids were completely evaporated.

Snowflakes and ice crystals struck the flames, and even a storm could extinguish them.

But the flames remained unmoved; no external force could shake this primordial fire.

"this?!"

Skadi then understood the undead's confidence in fighting monsters, and at the same time, a strange chill ran down her spine.

It was like the fear one feels upon seeing one's own kind being burned, but this emotion came about in such a strange way.

The undead turned to look at Skadi and spoke.

"besides."

Then, the Undead took the greatsword from his back.

Skadi, her senses finally clouded by the wind and snow, noticed the prey closing in.

The monsters emerging from the snow shook their heads, which had transformed into enormous mouths, while the fin-like structures on their backs constantly floated, and their limbs turned into primitive tentacles, supporting them as they moved across the ground.

These monsters hissed and howled at Skadi, trying to bring their "family" back to their mother's embrace.

Do you need help now?

The Undead asked in a deep voice as he approached Skadi and stood beside her.

This time, Skadi did not issue a warning to the Undead.

A moment of hesitation flashed in her crimson eyes, and she pursed her lips as she recalled the flames that seemed to purify everything.

Skadi gripped her greatsword tightly and spoke softly.

"if you can."

The power inspired by her bloodline surged through her body, as if she had returned to a pristine ocean. Skadi recklessly activated her body, eager to engage in a thoroughly enjoyable and exhilarating battle.

Standing with this newly acquainted friend, we faced the call of our homeland together.

It wasn't that Skadi couldn't handle it alone; she almost always traveled alone throughout her journey.

Now, this hunter, who has spent half his life walking in solitude, has once again picked up the emotion called friendship.

This emotion came abruptly, but it wasn't sudden.

Her only comrade-in-arms contracted severe Oripathy. From the distant past, no one has been able to fight alongside her.

The flames that ignite are both the clarion call to attack and a source of reassurance that she feels protected by someone behind her.

So Skadi took her first step, venturing into the snow to launch an attack on her homeland that relentlessly pursued her.

Now, if someone could share this burden with her.

Even if it's just once, she wants to fight alongside her friends.

The greatsword sliced ​​through the flowing air and severed the tentacles that were trying to attack, as she charged towards the enemy.

The figure dancing in the snowy night is not offering sacrifices to the gods, but bestowing its end upon the profound depths emerging from the sea.

Each swing dealt a heavy blow to the unknown creature, and the leaping figure, accompanied by floating silver hair, was as light as a fish swimming in water.

But when the greatsword was swung and slammed into the ground, a huge amount of snowflakes would rise up.

Like a giant whale swimming in the sea, breaking through the constraints of the seawater surface between dances in the water, and splashing water by slapping its tail on the sea.

That was the intense vibration caused by the immense force flowing onto the ground.

The essence of this swordsmanship is quite different from its outward appearance.

If one is captivated by its dancing form, one will surely forget the immense power contained within the sword and the near-perfect combat techniques.

This is a true warrior.

And right behind Skadi.

The undead raised his head and looked at the monsters who had lost their guidance.

The scent emanating from them had lost much of its depth and madness; only the instincts of monsters drove their bodies.

But the few traces of soul that escaped from the monster's burning body already revealed a fact.

Their power was bestowed upon them by humans, just as the scattered and separated souls were taken away by the undead.

The source of these monsters' power caused the Undead to fall into a brief silence after learning the answer.

That's a twisted and violent form of human nature.

If they are indeed creations of the abyss, then it is not surprising.

Those who come into contact with the abyss are unable to think with their own consciousness; their consciousness will be taken over by the abyss.

If the body's ability to withstand the strain is insufficient, it may even lead to more severe deformities.

Isn't this exactly the transformation from a human form to an incomprehensible monster?

In the memories of the undead, countless people have lost everything due to the influence of the abyss.

That is a realm beyond the reach of humans. Even gods are corrupted by the abyss and devoured completely.

The nameless hunter strode forward, approaching the figure dancing in the snowy night.

As Skadi realized, the Iron Man who asked her if she needed help had the ability to fight these monsters.

But what she didn't know was that it wasn't just an ability to fight monsters.

In the distant past, King Gwyn hunted down an ancient dragon, and four knights received his praise and reward.

One of the Royal Knights, after Gwyn the Lord of Cinder sacrificed himself to continue the fire, sensed the surging source of darkness.

He made a pact with the monsters of the abyss, gaining the ability to roam freely within it. But his goal was not power; he wanted to defeat the Lord of the Abyss and bring the ancient Golden Kingdom back to life.

So, he resolutely set off with his companions to conquer the abyss.

The knight who lived with wolves survived the abyss, even though he was severely injured and his mind and thoughts were corrupted by darkness.

Even though the abyss beneath him was like a bone covered in maggots, trying to drag him into endless darkness.

But he did not fall, and continued to hunt down the creation corrupted by the abyss.

Thus, Artorias, one of the Four Knights of the King, the Wolf Knight "Wanderer of the Abyss," perished along with the Abyss of that time, thanks to his unparalleled swordsmanship.

But no one knew that even Artorias, the King's Knight, could not escape the corruption of the abyss.

In a corner of history, overlooked footsteps have come to this hero who fought against the abyss.

He met the wolf rider's gaze, bowed as a warrior, and extended an invitation to battle.

The blade pierced through his body, which had been corrupted by the abyss, allowing him to depart in a normal form and posture, freeing his soul from the torment of the abyss.

In his dying moments, the wolf rider regained a brief moment of lucidity and entrusted his final wishes to the arriving nameless hero.

He took over the soul of the wolf knight who had fought with him and merged with him in a way that Artorias knew well.

That was the fighting custom of the ancient gods: if a comrade was about to fall, they would pierce his body with their own sword.

The goal is not to destroy him, but to allow the power he retains in his soul to be reborn within him, so that he can continue to fight alongside him.

In the end, the Lord of the Abyss was defeated by the nameless hero, and his body shattered into countless fragments, which were scattered throughout the world.

That is a story from generations ago, a forgotten legend.

But now, the undead have raised their swords once more.

Flames originating from the inherited magic of Izalith ignited on the sword forged from pig iron.

The scorching heat intertwined with life itself, covering the entire blade.

He is an unsung hero, a hunter of kings.

He is also one who walks in the abyss.

He had sworn an oath with the wolf rider who single-handedly conquered the abyss.