Ark Undead

Deep within the leaping flames, two figures seemed to be embracing each other.

"Young lady, Gail is back."

"Welcome back, Grandpa Gale!"

85. A Quiet Burn

Perhaps no one has ever thought that burning can be tranquil.

As the flames spread downwards from the sacred mountain, the crackling sound of the fire created an eerie sense of tranquility.

The Undead stood atop the sacred mountain, silently watching the flames spread downwards.

He himself didn't know how he felt. Those long-lost feelings of sadness and relief all rushed into his heart at once.

The Painter of the World is the one whom the immortals recognize at the end of the Age of Fire.

No, perhaps we could say friends.

This painting, titled "The Painting World of Ashes," was created by the Undead who forgot their own names and simply used their then-current identity as Ashes as a code name.

He was the one who killed Gale, the slave knight who was searching for paint, and he was the one who gave the young lady his blood, which was overflowing with dark souls.

He stood beside the young lady, watching her complete the painting bit by bit with her paintbrush.

At the end of the Age of Fire, only this painting remains to bear witness to the immigrants of that Age of Fire, who were able to maintain their human nature even after the first fire was extinguished.

If I had to use a metaphor, it would be like the last ark in mythology.

It became the last refuge for the homeless, sheltering them through long years, even through the dark and fireless deep-sea era.

But now, it is still corrupted by the malice of the abyss, and this relic from the Age of Fire has finally become empty and deserted.

According to the Yak people, during the hundreds of years that the scroll became one with Mount Kalan, some people entered the scroll, and some people left it.

Perhaps some of the people from various places who live in the paintings will bring their traditions out of the world of painting?

Just like back then, when that boy named Saliwan stepped out of Aleide's world of painting.

Could there still be ancient bloodlines remaining outside?

The immortals no longer have the chance to ask.

Dust to dust, ashes to ashes, this painting born in the Age of Fire will eventually burn quietly in the flames.

But it will not die completely; it will become an integral part of the sacred mountain of Kalan as it burns in the flames.

The people of Shelag will still crawl forward in the cold winter, but they don't have to worry about natural disasters.

The Manju Academy, founded by the Arakkoa Knights, will still exist, even though the god they served has died.

The saintess would also receive a response from the scroll, continuing to use its power, even though they could no longer hear the young lady's whispers.

These people, who live amidst the remnants of ancient generations, may one day be displaced by war.

But the snowy landscape will never disappear.

"..."

The Undead descended the sacred mountain step by step, emerging from the scroll amidst the kneeling corpses of the Crow People.

The flames continued to burn, undeterred even by the wind and snow.

The bodies of the crows burned silently in the fire, sinking into the foot of Mount Kalan along with the painting.

Those who shed their blood on the edge of the abyss will remain here forever, sleeping eternally with the endless wind and snow.

Even if no one knows, atop the sacred mountain of Kalan, there are those who forged an impregnable wall with their lives. Through the long, dark night, they resisted the erosion of the abyss with boundless will and determination, until the arrival of the hero.

The light flashed, and the figure of the Undead reappeared atop the sacred mountain in the mortal world.

He dwells in the divine abode atop the mountain.

Only upon entering can one discover that the layout here is strangely consistent with that of the church in the painting, only the exterior decoration is not as ornate.

The Undead looked back and saw that the snow-capped mountains and church that should have been clearly depicted on the scroll hanging on the wall were now engulfed in crimson flames.

But the flames did not detract from the beauty; instead, they added a sense of tranquility to the entire painting, a tranquility born from the struggle against the blizzard.

It is no easy task to completely burn a painting made with the blood of dark souls in flames.

This also allowed enough time for the painting to sink into the sacred mountain of Kalan.

To be honest, the Undead were somewhat excited and thrilled when they saw the message left by the Crow People in the bell.

But now, the Undead have lost all interest.

Even the things most likely to survive to this day have vanished due to the erosion of the abyss. In this new world, how many familiar faces will remain?

Perhaps only an ancient wandering soul remains.

Inside the shrine were some things that the immortals found somewhat familiar.

The short swords used by the crow people, the sacred bells used for miracles, and the black-feathered crow people clothing sometimes worn in rituals.

The immortal walked out of the divine abode and saw Skadi still guarding him and Enya lying against a tree.

"!" Skadi heard footsteps and looked up at the undead who were walking out of the divine abode.

"You're out?!"

She quickly stood up, went to the immortal's side, and looked at the immortal with an excited expression.

Have you seen the gods?

"No."

The immortal shook his head.

"No, God."

Skadi looked into the abode of the gods in confusion. It was indeed empty. Where did the undead go when they just disappeared?

"Where did the saintess get her power? You must know what it is, right?"

Skadi looked at the Undead with hope and asked.

"Can you tell me? I need to find the answer."

The Undead looked at Skadi in front of him, but he didn't say anything.

But Skadi sensed a strange sadness emanating from the silent man before her.

His face was completely hidden under his helmet, and his expression was completely obscured.

But that sorrow was colder than the fiercest snowstorms on Mount Kalan.

It pierces the heart.

"what happened?"

Skadi's expression gradually calmed down; she sensed something was wrong.

"No."

The Undead shook his head and gave Skadi the answer again.

There are no gods in there. Only ordinary people.

He said this as he walked down toward the entrance to the holy mountain.

The answer you're looking for isn't here. Go somewhere else.

Whatever Skadi wanted to ask, it was all gone. She could get nothing and could only see everything burning in the raging fire.

Skadi stood there, stunned. She glanced back at the divine abode, which was so quiet it seemed to be immersed in a corner of time.

"..."

Silent, the white-haired bounty hunter lowered his gaze, then turned and followed the undead down the holy mountain.

There is no need to worry about Enya's safety; the bell has already rung throughout the snowy land, and a new saintess has been born.

Soon, the adults from Manju Academy will lead the guards to the mountaintop.

They would bring new, warm clothes and food, and hold ceremonies to celebrate the birth of the saint.

The Undead and Skadi returned to the inn and found Old Benny.

Old Benny opened the door, saw two people, quickly welcomed them in, and then asked with a nervous expression.

"Well, did you see the gods? Did they say anything? I heard the bell ringing because the Holy Maiden had succeeded. What about you?"

The Undead shook his head, sat down by the campfire, and placed his greatsword aside.

Skadi shook her head, then sat down by the campfire and placed her greatsword aside.

The synchronized movements of the two left old Benny dumbfounded. But it was also clear that neither of them had gotten the answer they wanted.

"Yeah..."

For some reason, old Benny breathed a sigh of relief. He tried his best to take care of the two men's feelings, and sat down around the campfire to talk to them and comfort them.

"I knew it! We don't even know if there are gods on Kalan. We don't know if they're just made up by those adults at Manju Academy. As long as we have respect for them, that's fine. But I'm not going to return the money you gave me."

Old Benny chattered on and on, handing each of the Undead and Skadi a steak.

"In short, I'm glad you two are both alright. I saw you hadn't come back all day yesterday, and I thought something had happened. It scared me half to death."

The Undead shook his head; he didn't eat.

Skadi was hungry, and she instinctively took the steak, but after taking a bite and swallowing it with difficulty, she couldn't eat a second bite.

The immortals are those who see things they don't want to see.

Skadi did not get the answer she wanted.

Neither of them was in the mood.

Seeing this, Old Benny sighed and stopped paying attention to them.

He stood up from the campfire and walked out of the Undead's room.

At this point, it would probably be better to leave them alone.