Ark Undead

These infected individuals all looked as if they had lost their souls, staring at the Rhodes Island members in front of them, stiff as statues.

The undead under the armor also took this opportunity to adjust their breathing and stabilize their aura.

That last shot was the Undead's culmination of all his power so far. It not only unleashed the power of the original miracle but also received the enhancement of the Primordial Flame's instinct. In terms of both power and range, it was the strongest miracle the Undead had ever used since awakening.

Of course, there were side effects as well. His physical strength was completely depleted, and the power in his body was like a dried-up river.

However, his battle-hardened resilience quickly became apparent, and within half a minute, he was able to pick up his weapon again and rejoin the battle.

"All personnel maintain formation and advance towards the east gate."

The doctor was quick to react. He rubbed his throbbing head and issued the latest instructions.

Amiya and the others were still reeling from the undead's power when they heard the Doctor's voice and snapped out of their daze.

Ace and Nearl raised their shields and stood at the front of the formation, clearing away obstacles with their weapons while keeping watch for crossbowmen who might attack at any moment.

The black-haired boy hid on the city wall. He had naturally seen that unforgettable shot. Fear swirled around him, and his thighs felt like they were filled with lead, making it impossible for him to move.

Such power...

He stared at his friend's body, which was gushing black liquid beneath the city wall, and countless voices screamed in his mind to take him away. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't overcome the strange pressure.

Until the Rhodes Islanders approached Mephisto's herd.

These infected individuals still stared ahead with their eyes open, but clear liquid dripped from the corners of their mouths, and their expressions were blank.

"Stop looking, they're already unconscious."

The doctor spoke up, saying that he seemed to have seen this scene before.

"That boy's Originium Arts must be about controlling other people's minds, essentially erasing a person's soul and then using those bodies as extensions of his own thoughts."

That is why Mephisto called his troops the Herd.

He was like a cowherd, tending to these bodies that he could use.

"Is this the freedom that the Reunion Movement talks about, and the price they themselves have paid?"

Lin Guang frowned and muttered to himself.

"Freedom gained by losing everything..."

Margaret shook her head; she absolutely disapproved of such behavior.

Amiya looked at the infected with a hint of pity, but there was nothing she could do. She could only walk forward with her head down, feeling somewhat dejected.

The group continued until they reached the East Gate, where they finally saw the white-clad boy lying on the ground.

Tender pink flesh had grown from the wound on his abdomen. But the black pus constantly oozing from the opening made everyone who saw it feel nauseous.

This nausea is not just a physical discomfort, but an inexplicable dizziness and headache, where even a single glance feels like your thoughts are being sucked away.

"Back off."

The immortal came to the front of the crowd, raised his right hand, and flames ignited.

Seemingly sensing the light and heat, the black pus that had been approaching Rhodes Island and the others fled back as if it had seen a natural enemy, eager to return to its original body.

"Disgusting, filthy."

The Undead sighed. He truly hadn't expected that his trip to Chernobog would yield such a terrifying harvest.

First it was the Doctor, then Talulah, and now even a small child bears deep marks.

Undeniably, the initial concept of the Reunion Movement may have been brilliant.

It can liberate all infected people across the continent, giving everyone the right to live in the sunlight.

But the sacred is often the breeding ground for chaos.

The loftier the ideal, the purer the malice that arises when it is tainted.

The Undead have no idea what happened to them.

All he knew was that even his body could not be left to him.

Flaming hands gripped the greatsword behind him, its blade wreathed in undying flames. He then grasped the hilt with both hands and slammed it forward.

boom!

The steel crushed the flesh on both sides of the cavity, and the two bodies were completely separated along the cavity in the lower abdomen, with only the minced flesh crushed by the giant sword still connected by a few bits.

When the flames touched the black pus on the ground, they ignited as if they had encountered high-purity alcohol.

Amiya wanted to speak up and stop the undead, as desecrating the corpses was not exactly honorable.

But seeing the black liquid vanish into nothingness, she immediately felt relieved and shut her mouth.

Flames spread along the black liquid to the two halves of the corpse.

The boy who had just been proclaiming his theories in front of everyone was now reduced to charcoal in the raging flames.

In the end, not even charcoal remained; everything turned into ashes.

The Undead stared at the burning corpses on the ground, but he remained silent.

During the burning, he sensed a white-glowing soul rising from the corpse, which was then drawn by the flames to the undead's side.

He reached out and took the ball of light that no one else could see, examining it closely.

This is a cluster of souls that seems to sing like birds. Within the cluster of souls, there is a bird spreading its wings and singing towards the sky.

However, within this soul cluster, there were fine black threads mixed in, tangling and intertwining within the bird's body like needles.

"The singer who longed to soar into the sky and show the world his beautiful voice instead accepted the abyss's gift amidst pain and torment, and became what he is today."

Death would not bring him relief, but perhaps in that endless darkness, one could hear his faint cries...

The undead suddenly clenched its outstretched palms, transforming all the hidden power within the soul cluster into its own sustenance.

Those corrupted by the abyss will eventually be burned to ashes by the raging flames, and everything they leave behind will turn into firewood.

This was the first time the Undead had so clearly seen souls that could be collected from the corpses of Terrans.

Before this, the only enemy that provided the Undead with any nourishment was the dragon soaring over Victoria.

So that means...

Before the Undead could continue thinking, he sensed a deep resentment, a gaze as sharp as needles, gradually brewing above his head.

The immortal looked up and saw a black-haired boy.

He remembered clearly that when the giant thunderbolt struck the white-haired boy, there seemed to be a miserable scream, which was probably him.

"Your hatred. Without any reason."

The Undead looked at him, but sheathed the greatsword in his hand.

"He shouldn't be like this. But someone made him lose his mind."

Faust continued to stare at the immortal, as if trying to imprint his image deeply into his mind.

"You can come up here and face your death."

The undead hung the greatsword behind his back, his right hand still gripping the hilt.

"I will grant your wish."

He hardly had that disgusting abyssal odor on him, so it seemed that the boy was just a normal infected person.

The immortals had absolutely no interest in Faust.

After saying this, the Undead turned around and glanced at the Doctor and the others behind him.

"Let's go."

He ignored Faust on the city wall and urged Rhodes Island and the others to continue their departure.

The doctor gave the order, and the group continued forward.

The immortals stood still, helping the others cover the rear.

The threat of Faust was nothing to the Undead, who never even glanced at him again.

From then on, whatever he did had nothing to do with the immortals.

As long as you don't provoke them.

The Undead caught up with the others last. Before leaving, he turned his head and glanced at the Yeti Princess, who was standing blankly in a corner of the city.

At the same time, he also saw W standing next to Frostnova, discreetly waving and greeting the Undead.

He didn't say anything or give W any response, pretending he hadn't seen anything, and followed the Rhodes Island group.

Faust watched the gray-black figure gradually disappear, and he opened his tightly clenched lips.

Even though he was looking at the man with such a vicious gaze, he still dared not make any move.

He squeezed out blood and foam from the teeth marks, and his fingernails dug deep into his flesh from his clenched fist.

Blood dripped from his chin to the ground, and the words of the Undead still echoed in his mind.

"He shouldn't be like this. But someone made him lose his mind."

Faust knew that Mephistopheles's condition had become increasingly strange for some time.

However, he maintained the same friendly attitude towards his friends and comrades, so Faust did not pay much attention to the changes in his friends.

Until today, he saw with his own eyes the black liquid flowing from Mephistopheles' wound.

"..."

The boy picked up the crossbow that had fallen to the ground, jumped off the city wall, and came to his friend's side, who had turned to ashes.

Gently embrace that clump of ashes that can slip through your fingers.

He swallowed all his tears.

He vowed to find the culprit who had turned Mephisto into this state and to pierce the man's heart with his own crossbow bolt!

Then, go back to that unknown knight and seek revenge.

Even if I myself will die.

Seeing Faust kneeling beside the Ashes, Frostnova opened her lips, but didn't know what to say.

"Should we go find him?"