Ark Undead

The boatman shakily reached out his hand, but failed to catch the Lungmen Coin scroll that was thrown to the ground rather slowly in mid-air.

Instead, he waited until the roll of Lungmen coins had rolled on the boat for a while before he caught it in his hand.

"Continue, set sail."

"Yes! Thank you, sir!"

The boatman was still a little scared, but seeing the Lungmen coin lessened his tension, and he grabbed the oar again and continued sailing.

The oars struck the calm water, creating ripples that spread outwards. The Undead stared at the concentric circles of ripples, his eyes slightly closed.

Chen glanced at the Undead twice before withdrawing her hand from the hilt of the longsword at her waist.

"Were you asleep just now?"

Onstan dared not change his position and could only sit in the middle of the boat, reaching out to touch the Undead's shoulder.

"Ah."

The immortal nodded slightly, his eyes closed, still recalling the scene he had just witnessed.

If this happened to an ordinary person, it would just be a trivial matter, nothing more than sleeping and having a dream.

But when applied to an immortal, it becomes absolutely extraordinary.

The immortals, who need no rest and know nothing of sleep, have long since left behind the meaningless and illusory realm of dreams.

Those who chase flames can only glimpse the edges of dreams amidst flames and death.

In the distant past, sleep was linked to the death of the undead. Only the undead who lost their spiritual support and began to turn into zombies would experience sleep symptoms.

Once an immortal begins to sleep and dream, it means that he has approached his limit.

But he unknowingly fell into a dream and saw a battle scene that he felt was very familiar with.

The undead of today are no longer tormented by that curse. Even though they still suffer from the insufficiency of their humanity, the First Flame stabilizes their spirit, ensuring that the spirit of the undead will never tire.

Although the scenes in those dreams have gradually become blurred, the Undead are certain that those dreams were not simple.

"Someone made me fall asleep."

The Undead exhaled the breath he had just inhaled, holding it in his chest for a long time before finally letting it out, which calmed his mind somewhat.

"Um..."

Onstan frowned for a moment, then relaxed.

What did you dream about?

"Hunting down gods."

The Undead opened his eyes and looked at Onstan beside him through his helmet.

Onstan nodded quickly, then looked away.

"I remember that immortals don't dream, right? They're even rarely seen sleeping."

"If they're asleep, they're either not dead or practically dead."

While chatting with Ornstein, the Undead kept going through his memories, trying to find the corresponding scene.

But not a single familiar scene could be recreated.

"Hunting gods is all too familiar to me. But I can't remember when it was."

What puzzled the Undead was the sense of familiarity. It was as if they had experienced it themselves, yet they couldn't find the slightest clue.

It's like...

Just like his own experience in Victoria, he had forgotten many precious things, and he couldn't find a single fragment of memory.

When did that happen?

"How long have I been asleep?"

The immortal asked Onstan.

"I didn't notice. I saw you weren't moving, so I didn't pay attention to you. I don't know when you fell asleep."

Onstan shook his head; he hadn't noticed the state of the undead.

But Chen, who was standing next to him, gave the answer.

"About five minutes."

Chen appropriately interjected into their conversation, saying...

"This is the perceived time, roughly the same. From the moment your left hand relaxes until you wake up, it takes about five minutes."

The Undead and Onstan both looked at Chen, but Chen's expression didn't change. She continued speaking.

"This is a technique for interrogating prisoners. Pay attention to whether they make any subconscious movements, whether they are telling the truth or lying, and also see what their current mindset is."

Chen clenched his fist and then relaxed it, trying to ease the tension he had just felt.

"I thought you were having a seizure, and I almost drew my knife on you."

"Luckily you didn't draw your sword, otherwise it's questionable whether you could even speak now."

Onstan interrupted by poking Chen's hair with his finger.

Chen didn't dodge the question; she knew Onstan was right. But one must always be vigilant; one can't just sit and wait to die.

The Undead shifted their gaze to outside the cabin.

Snowflakes fell vertically from the sky. It was a windless day, and the snowflakes landed on the riverbed, which had not yet frozen into ice, without even causing a ripple.

On both sides of the waterway are rolling mountains, and on the mountaintops, there are accumulated snowflakes, like an old man with white hair sitting motionless on the ground.

In the distance, the river stretches out as far as the eye can see, seemingly without end.

This is the second day after leaving Longmen.

As their first day was drawing to a close, they arrived at the great river and paid a hefty sum to find a skilled boatman willing to ferry Onstan across.

Their journey into Sichuan had not yet begun. According to the boatman, they would only set foot on the Sichuan road after disembarking.

The ship is equipped with an Originium power system, but civilian vessels still need manual operation to ensure safety when encountering rivers of varying depths.

The ship wasn't particularly decorated, but it was nice to take shelter from the rain and sit by the fireplace to check a terminal.

There are even charging ports for charging terminals, refrigerators for storing food, and heaters for heating food.

From this perspective, charging each person 2,000 Lungmen dollars for a day's journey on this ship isn't too expensive.

Incidentally, Onstan gave double.

"Boatman, how much longer?"

The immortal turned around and asked the boatman.

After the initial panic, the boatman, having been exposed to the cold wind for a while, finally calmed down.

"My lord, it takes about a full day to get from the border of Longmen to the edge of the Shu Road, and we've already covered more than half of it. The wind has been kind to us today, making our journey even faster. I estimate that we'll have to trouble you for another two or three hours."

Luckily, the wind was in the right direction, and the boat was moving faster, saving us several hours of travel time.

"it is good."

The immortal nodded, remaining silent.

However, this time he did not let his guard down.

Who exactly pulled me into this dream? And who is conveying these images to me within the dream?

The Great Yan seems to have some interest.

On the mountaintop shrouded in mist, a beautiful woman with long, flowing blue hair slightly opened her eyes.

She propped herself up from the table with her slender arms, not even bothering to scatter the pile of papers she had left aside.

It's been such a long, long time since I've dreamed about these things.

She lowered her clear eyes and looked down at the two wine glasses in front of her.

One of the wine glasses was empty, presumably because she had drunk it all.

The overflowing wine in the other glass was not drunk by the guest he had invited.

She was lost in her own dream, instinctively inviting the world into her dream, never expecting that an extraordinary being would arrive.

"It's him? How could it be..."

She murmured to herself, then picked up the gourd of wine that was placed to the side, casually raised her neck as proudly as a swan, and poured the wine from the gourd into her mouth.

But after waiting for a moment, all that happened was a drop of bland, bird-like liquid that dripped from the gourd's opening onto my tongue, which was anything but pleasant.

With a slight frown, the blue-haired beauty had no choice but to put down her wine gourd.

She was unconsciously drawn to the aroma of the wine in the glass.

The untouched wine glass was filled with a full glass of cool liquor.

The aroma of wine wafted into her nose, and the beauty couldn't help but swallow.

She was also a little troubled. Was it impolite to drink the wine offered to the guest?

But upon closer reflection, since the other person didn't seem to want to drink, drinking this wine would be a way to save food.

So, the beauty, relieved of her worries, picked up her wine cup and, without noticing the lingering reflection of the flames in the wine, drank it all in one gulp.

The moment the drink touched her throat, she suddenly opened her clear, blue-violet eyes wide.

A burning sensation rose from her feet, and in her eyes, she seemed to see a sword blade twisted into a spiral shape flashing before her eyes.

Unconsciously, the wine glass slipped from her hand, and she braced herself against the table beside her to steady herself.

It felt like flames were climbing up her body from her heels, lashing every inch of her skin. The pain was so intense that the blue-haired beauty gritted her teeth and endured it for a few seconds after drinking the beverage.

As the illusory flames and the effects of the alcohol dissipated, she gasped for breath and looked with some fear at the wine glass rolling on the ground.

"It's him...it must be him..."

However, the words that came out of her mouth were different from the expression in her eyes; they were full of joy and relief.

After a while, she straightened her slightly disheveled clothes, slung the wine gourd over her shoulder, and walked out of the pavilion atop Cangshan Mountain.

Anyway, let's get some drinks first!