Ark Undead

He felt that there were some things he had to take responsibility for.

Do you want revenge?

Froststar did not respond.

Regardless of whether I can inflict any real damage on the undead, this battle was inevitable.

The Reunion Movement has also done many heinous things. Frostnova is very clear about this; she can accept any outcome, even the most tragic death.

Patriots are the same; they were prepared long ago.

However, when such a thing actually happens, Frostnova's heart is still filled with uncontrollable anger and sorrow.

"He is a pure warrior."

The Undead made no attempt to hide his admiration for the Patriot.

"I gave him the ending he most hoped for."

In their battle, every clash of weapons was an exchange of understanding each other's inner thoughts.

This is the simplest form of communication between pure warriors.

For a patriot, their life ends with such a battle, rather than dying in a stratagem or on a sickbed.

He died without regret.

Froststar couldn't control herself again and tears streamed down her face.

Her voice involuntarily escaped from her vocal cords.

The sobs formed a continuous line, just like the falling tears.

The immortal sat silently by the bed.

The white rabbit wept uncontrollably in her hospital bed.

252. Unauthorized study of the alluring Heavenly Fire

The Undead was never a good person in the purest sense.

Along his path, those who died by his sword included not only the most heinous villains, but also the kind-hearted who stood in his way. There were enemies who opposed him, and friends who walked alongside him.

For him, separation by life and death might be as indifferent as the way people in Terra greet each other when they go out.

Perhaps it's simply because, on that path to becoming a king, no one has ever comforted the undead.

He walked mechanically, his sword swings were merely a thought, and his only thought was how to get through the predicament before him.

Loneliness became my destiny.

That's why he cherishes those occasional glimmers of light in his otherwise dark life.

For example, Solar, and the Fire Mage.

Long ago, even the Undead knew that the relationship between people was like pebbles on a parallel road; a single vehicle accidentally running over them would send them flying to who-knows-where.

This is how it is with Solar, and it is how it is with the Fire Mage.

For him, the same fate would ultimately befall him as well as Melantha and Kroos.

He knew perfectly well what was going on.

Therefore, he will do his best until the day his relationship with them comes to an end.

Because he had no regrets or helplessness about any of the paths he had walked.

Everything a person experiences forms the foundation for the road to the future.

That's something that can't be changed, so there's no need to be sad.

But if such words come from the mouth of an immortal to soothe the pain in the heart of a girl whose loved one has just been killed, then it is nothing short of the greatest hypocrisy.

When Frostnova shed tears before him, the Undead felt a profound emptiness within him.

I couldn't even say a word to comfort her.

He looked down at his gauntlets.

He clearly remembered that when Patriot entrusted him with the key to the core city, the gauntlet, stained with the few drops of his blood, was held tightly in Patriot's hand, whispered in the Undead's ear, and given his last instructions.

Then, Patriot looked at the Undead with satisfied and hopeful eyes and whispered thank you.

The Undead knew this was the last thing he could do, and he had done it.

Grant the warrior the way he most desires to die.

That is why he has a clear conscience.

Even when facing the soldier's closest relatives, the immortals need not utter the words "I'm sorry," for that would be the greatest insult to a soldier striving for his ideals.

Froststar's sobs gradually subsided, and her breathing gradually became steady.

When the Undead looked up at Froststar again, she had already fallen into a deep sleep once more.

Having just awakened and already experienced such a dramatic change, Froststar, who was already somewhat exhausted, needed more rest.

So the silent undead shook down Frostnova's bed and tucked her in.

Removing the blood-soaked gauntlets, the undead used his withered fingers to tidy the disheveled hair on her forehead.

Seeing Frostnova's furrowed brow, the Undead sighed softly.

He raised his left hand, which was exposed to the air.

laugh...

Golden flames suddenly ignited, and the warrior's soul hidden within them stirred restlessly.

"Go."

"The Undead said in a low voice."

"Say goodbye to her."

Then, from the flames, the phantom of a warrior with antlers bowed gently to the nameless hero.

He lowered his pace and quietly entered his daughter's dream.

Right before the Undead's eyes, Frostnova's brows slowly relaxed, and a faint smile carefully appeared at the corner of her mouth.

Surely, in that dreamlike landscape filled with snow, there is an adult holding a child's little hand, leading them towards a bright tomorrow.

At the same time, the black and red outlined soul floated out from above Frostnova's head, transforming into pure power and returning to the Primordial Flame.

He has severed his last connection with this world and is now able to rest in peace.

The Undead waved his hand, and the golden flames receded.

He turned around, left the ward, and gently closed the door.

However, what the Undead didn't know was that within that warm flame, two warriors stood in the snowfield, looking up at the sun in the sky.

"Now you can live here in peace, right?"

The warrior with a comical sun painted on his breastplate reached out and patted the heavily armored old man next to him.

"Seeing your daughter safe and sound, your wish has finally been fulfilled."

Bozokastie released his spear and shield, the two weapons turning into golden specks of light in the air and drifting away into the distance.

"What exactly is this place?"

"Hmm, good question."

Upon hearing Bozokasti's question, Solal touched his helmet and pondered.

"In your words, think of this place as a Valhalla. Warriors who have completed their missions will have the right to rest and recuperate here, awaiting the next pure battle."

"The next battle?"

A red light suddenly flashed in Bozokasti's eyes; he seemed to be full of anticipation for this so-called next battle.

"when?"

"Don't get excited, old friend. Nobody knows when. It depends on when our gatekeeper runs into trouble."

Solal smiled and pointed to the woods next to them.

"But right now, the biggest challenge should be figuring out how to expand this house, right?"

Since Bozocas arrived, their area of ​​activity has expanded. However, the existing small house is becoming too crowded for so many people.

"Uncle Solar!"

A white-haired half-dragon girl ran out of the small wooden house behind the two men. She leaned against the door and called out to the two warriors standing outside.

When do you plan to start cutting down the trees?

"Start now, right away! And while you're at it, call that old man Gale out, everyone get to work and get things moving faster!"

"Okay!"

The half-dragon girl returned to the house.

Solal shrugged at Bozokasti next to him.

"It looks like the next battle is about to begin."

"I'd be happy to participate."

Bozokasti seemed full of fighting spirit, and he did look very relaxed.

"However, there is a problem before that."

"Solar asked."

Do you know how to build a house?

"?" Bozokasti and Solald fell silent, staring at each other in the snowy plain.

Unexpectedly, what stopped the two great warriors was not some invincible enemy.

It was a completely new skill that they had never encountered before.

After leaving Frostnova's room, the Undead received a long-awaited communication from Kal'tsit.