Ark Undead

The Undead looked at Melantha, but he didn't speak.

"Teacher, please promise me! Teacher!"

Melantha, who was not good at communicating with people, was talking non-stop at this moment. Her intuition told her that the Undead would not go with her.

"..."

The Undead broke free of the girl's grasp. He stood up, turned around, and faced the line of infected.

"Don't forget, a hundred times, every day."

This was a signal to Melantha that she should leave immediately.

The father rushed over and picked up Melantha, who was trying to reach out and grab the immortal again. Before turning around, he glanced at her silent back.

"Thank you."

The father thanked the Undead in a low voice. He understood that the Undead were preparing to hold off the infected so that they would have enough time to escape.

Although he didn't recognize the strange man in the tattered armor, he had already seen what the Undead had done for Melantha.

"Teacher! Teacher! Waaaaah, teacher!"

Melantha's tears streamed down her face, blurring her delicate features.

She didn't understand why no one would follow her even if someone died, when there was a huge group of uncontrolled thugs ahead!

He was covered in wounds, and even the armor protecting his body was tattered beyond recognition.

Once the teacher turns around, they may never see each other again.

The immortals also have their own reasons.

Aside from covering Melantha and the others' escape, the Undead were unregistered when they entered Victoria.

The control over the Lower City is not strict, so the Glasgow Gang can take care of these things for him, allowing the Undead to settle down in the Lower City.

However, if an undead person enters the Upper Town without Victorian citizenship and is discovered by security forces, they will inevitably face imprisonment.

However, the Undead had already been seriously injured in order to ensure Melantha's safety by forcibly breaking through the wave of infected.

Something in his chest kept draining his reason, and his strength was waning.

Only the fighting spirit etched deep within his consciousness sustained his body.

If he were to turn into a zombie near Melantha's family, the only one harmed would be his disciple who regarded him as her teacher.

bass

The rusty katana scraped against its sheath, then was pulled out again amidst splattered blood.

The Undead looked at the wave of infected.

Even though his body was shattered beyond recognition, there was still an area of ​​more than ten meters in front of him that was completely empty.

That fear, which he had fought his way out of, was deeply imprinted in the hearts of every infected person.

The father held Melanie in his arms; he still needed to go to the Upper Town to treat her.

Melantha cried out in her father's arms, tears blurring her vision and making it difficult for her to see the silent figure that stood like a towering mountain.

When the other infected finally caught up, they surrounded the undead, forming a circle with a radius of ten meters.

Someone shouted something.

"He can't hold on any longer!"

Finally, an infected person took the first step, rushing towards the immortals.

The Undead swung his right hand down, severing the steel rod in the infected man's hand, then clamped it around his neck, forcefully tearing apart all the flesh from his right shoulder to his left waist.

This strike ignited the ferocity of the infected.

They swarmed up like locusts, rushing towards the Undead.

Now, he's the only target.

Swords and clubs were swung at the undead.

The Undead remained silent, only knowing how to swing the katana in his hand.

With each slash, an infected person will lose their life or be missing a limb.

Blood and flesh flew everywhere, and he was still wielding his rusty katana before he was completely surrounded.

But the katana still stopped.

It was stuck inside the body of an infected person wearing heavy armor.

The infected man had been cut in half, but he still grinned and reached out to grab the rusty katana.

Tormented by Oripathy, he gradually lost the ability to perceive other kinds of pain.

The heavily armored infected man gripped a rusty katana and slammed the blade of the katana hard with the heavy hammer in his right hand.

Click...

The overburdened katana broke in two under the blows aimed at its blade.

The immortal felt a lightness in his hand, and he also heard the sound of something breaking.

He retracted the broken blade, aimed at another infected person's neck, and plunged it viciously into his body.

The broken blade pierced through the neck, churned in the chest cavity, and was then pulled out by the undead.

Ding!Ding!Ding!

Swords and blades struck the undead's armor with dull thuds, and the once-sturdy armor was nearing its end as the weapons shattered.

Several more swords and blades came flying, piercing through the holes and gaps in the armor.

laugh.

The blade was embedded in the undead's abdomen, in the gap of his damaged shoulder armor.

Boom!

The giant hammer smashed into the undead's head, the immense force causing the undead to lean backward, and then being pushed forward by the attack from behind, staggering.

My hands won't obey me.

The immortal tried to raise the broken katana in his hand again, but his body could not respond.

Constantly battered by the waves of infected, the undead are like mayflies in the ocean, forced to passively endure the onslaught but unable to fight back against the monstrous surge.

Another massive hammer blow struck the back of the Undead's head.

Boom!

The Undead man's vision went black, and he staggered, trying to regain his balance.

But his legs felt like they weighed a ton, making it impossible for him to find his balance.

He was still conscious, but his body could no longer move even a finger.

He faced the earth.

Even when he fell, he never loosened his grip on the knife handle with his right hand.

The madness in the eyes of the infected only intensified as they watched the monster that had slaughtered its comrades fall.

The terrifying warrior was also defeated, and the infected raised their hands and cheered.

"Dead! Dead!"

"Hahaha! I killed him! I killed him!"

The undead lying on the ground stared wide-eyed at the leaping footsteps before him, remaining silent.

"..."

How long did you persist?

What about Melanie?

We should be safe by now, right?

Those cheers were nothing more than the screams of a clown to him.

Even if he dies this time, he will have a moment when he wakes up again.

But at that time, will he still remember what he did in Victoria?

Does he still remember that he had a disciple named Melanie?

Will he still be able to remain conscious? Will he know that he is himself?

The unprecedented sense of imprisonment robbed the undead of their ability to think normally.

In the past, when they were killed, they simply closed their eyes in pain and resentment. But this time, the unique experience made the undead realize what was being talked about by everyone.

Losing their minds, they become wandering souls.

Thinking that he might become a wandering ghost, even if he didn't die, he wouldn't react much.

Is this what it feels like to become a wandering ghost?

The immortal's mind was frozen.

He slowly closed his eyes.

His right hand also loosened its grip weakly, and the blade struck the ground with a clanging sound.

Melantha heard cheers.

She heard the cheers of the infected people.

She knew that the immortals were probably still dead.

The teacher who had always presented himself as invincible before her still succumbed to the wave of infected.

The wound on her arm had begun to go numb, and Melanie was losing consciousness.

She needs treatment.

The mother covered her mouth, realizing that the nameless hero who had helped them escape had fallen.

The father dared not look back; he could not let the opportunity that the immortals had fought for them be wasted.