Ark Undead

When Morton shyly approached the Undead and handed him his pen and notebook, everyone almost thought they had misread it.

But upon closer reflection, this is normal.

After all, that's Mr. War Knight.

The Undead didn't hold back in his description; the warrior before him, named Morton, was very open-minded about winning and losing, and enjoyed the battle itself.

He is an excellent fighter.

In this way, Rhodes Island was truly connected with the local forces in Minos.

It's important to know that Morton is quite famous among the border warriors; knowing him is equivalent to knowing many more heroes of Minos.

After finishing a whole glass of beer, Dobermann put down her glass and couldn't help but fan her mouth with her hand.

She used to be a soldier, and soldiers are very sensitive to alcohol. After coming to Rhodes Island, she had even less time to drink.

At most, he would go to a bar in Rhode Island to have a drink with his colleagues.

Such unrestrained drinking is quite rare.

"After today's competition, a total of sixteen warriors have been selected to participate in the Undead Arena."

Although tomorrow is a rest day arranged by the Temple of Heroes to allow the warriors to recuperate.

But perhaps due to professional habits, Doberman is now starting to care about the "undying race" of the day after tomorrow.

“We’ve never participated in the Undead Arena before, and Rhodes Island hasn’t collected any information on it. Mr. Morton, is there anything you can share with us?”

Upon hearing Dobermann talk about the Undying Race, Morton's expression shifted slightly from unrestrained laughter to a more subdued one.

"If it's about the Undying Arena, I don't know much, but I can tell you something."

Morton put down his glass, picked up a piece of bread from the side, tore off a small piece, and popped it into his mouth, saying as he ate.

"Although it is the Undead Arena organized by Minos, in fact, the Undead Arena has not been held for a long time. Information about the Undead Arena can only be obtained from some library books and stories passed down by word of mouth."

"Eh? Uncle Morton, you've never participated in the Undead Arena either?"

Katie asked in surprise.

Morton reached out and tapped Katie on the head, saying angrily.

"You're the old man! I've told you so many times, I'm only in my early twenties!"

Katie shrank back; there was no way around it, Morton's physique was just too deceptive.

However, after being interrupted by Katie, Morton loosened up a bit.

"Yes, I've never participated in the Undead Arena either. It's said that before the invasion a century ago, the Undead Arena was only held once every few decades."

"Because of those bastards like Sargon, we don't know the details about the Undead Arena unless we ask the priests of the Temple of Heroes."

"However, I do know some inside information."

Morton paused for a moment, then spoke in a low voice.

"The Undying Arena is not a battle between sixteen warriors, but a battle against heroic spirits."

As soon as Morton said this, everyone instinctively perked up their ears.

Heroic Spirits? What are those?

Seeing the curiosity in everyone's eyes, Morton continued.

"The Temple of Heroes is important not only because it is the spiritual pillar of us Minos, but more importantly because it is a place where the gifts of the gods are offered."

"Legend has it that before civilization existed on Terra, the gods fought and enjoyed themselves here."

"They fought without regard for life or death. As a result, the land of Minos still retains the lingering power of battles between gods."

"The area where the main city of Jasenus is located is also referred to as the arena of the gods in many ancient books."

Everyone listened attentively, including the immortals.

Although Morton and Pallas have different accounts, it is, after all, a legend.

Stories that have been passed down through generations may have some discrepancies, but their reference value should not be ignored.

"The gods know each other very well, so their battles will eventually come to an end."

"To alleviate their loneliness, they burned the bodies of the dead gods, and the bones that did not burn completely were made into gifts and given to the chosen heroes."

The immortal paused for a moment, feeling like he'd heard this story somewhere before.

"The chosen heroes, after being bestowed with the remains of the gods, have the honor of being able to enter the arena of the gods."

"There is no concept of death there. Heroes and gods alike will fight, regardless of status or rank."

"Heroes will hone their skills in countless life-or-death battles, and those who excel will be rewarded by the gods."

"This is the origin of the Undying Arena."

Morton's words were filled with longing.

This legend has always existed in the land of Minos, but many people have forgotten it because the Undead Games have not been held for so long.

But Morton and the other heroes of Minos, driven by their obsession with battle, remembered these legends vividly.

"So, that means these sixteen warriors are essentially the chosen heroes?"

Ansel couldn't help but ask.

Morton nodded.

"The object enshrined in the Temple of Heroes is said to be the key to the gate to the Arena of the Gods, which is a piece of the remains of a god."

"Moreover, in the previous records of the Undying Arena, there have been many strange heroes who have no origin or identity. But the characteristics of some of these heroes match those of heroes in ancient legends."

"Therefore, the Undying Arena is probably not going to be a fight between the sixteen of us. It is most likely that it will be a battle against the heroic spirits that remain in the arena."

"Otherwise, the individual competition wouldn't have ended today; it would have continued until a single winner was determined."

In fact, Morton's analysis and Pallas's account of the situation where no one died were largely the same.

Yato took a deep breath.

"The arena of the gods...that sounds fascinating."

"Being able to fight against heroes from history is every warrior's dream!"

Morton slammed his fist on the table, making no attempt to hide his fighting spirit.

Recalling what Pallas had said to him a couple of days ago, the Undead couldn't help but clench his fists.

Although his goal is to become a champion, that doesn't mean he won't enjoy the process of fighting.

Chosen by heroic spirits, to fight against them?

These heroic spirits, were they warriors from the Terra era, or...?

Although the immortals were silent, they had begun to subtly anticipate what was to come.

It would be so exciting to see some familiar faces.

362. Knight of Lothric

After yesterday's celebration, there is only one day left until the opening of the Undying Arena.

On this day, the city's top craftsmen gathered together to provide the best maintenance services for the sixteen warriors who were worthy of being called heroes.

The craftsmen used all their best skills to repair weapons and armor for the warriors.

They even invited renowned warlocks from the Warlock Guild's branch, and they were able to replace parts and modify details of the casting units.

All these preparations are for the sake of enabling the warriors to shine in tomorrow's Undying Arena.

Even the God of Fire was among them.

The Rhodes Island crew, who hadn't seen Vulcan in a long time, naturally followed Melantha and the others to go over and greet him.

"I've heard that you, Mr. War Knight and Melantha, have both been added to the Undead Arena's roster."

As Vulcan waved to everyone, she smiled and spoke to Melantha, who was the first to approach her.

"How's the fixed blade I made for you? Pretty good, right?"

"Yes, it's very easy to use, I like it very much, thank you."

Melantha politely thanked Vulcan, then placed the straight knife she was holding on Vulcan's workbench.

Vulcan first picked up his straight sword, drew it from its sheath, examined it carefully, and then spoke.

"There are no chips at all, just some scratches... Hmm, I can still smell a faint mixture of sword oil and blood."

Vulcan nodded in satisfaction.

"Little Melantha, you've taken very good care of this sword."

"That's what I should do."

Melantha glanced instinctively at the undead next to her, then straightened her back.

"This is a gift you gave me."

"Why don't you thank your teacher? Without the excellent materials he provided, I wouldn't have been able to forge the two weapons you hold in your hands."

Vulcan stared intently at the straight sword in his hand, as if admiring a work of art.

This is one of the two best weapons she forged in her career; the other, of course, is the greatsword in the hands of the Undead.

In the current industrial system, after being accelerated by Originium, it doesn't actually take much time to manufacture a piece of equipment.

Many old-fashioned techniques have gradually been phased out over time.

But Vulcan was different; she learned modern forging techniques while also being very interested in traditional forging methods.

Otherwise, she wouldn't have been able to forge their weapons using only a hammer and technique.

After all, the steel provided by the Undead has such peculiar properties that modern processing techniques would be too much for the machines to withstand.

Putting down his straight sword, Vulcan spoke respectfully to the undead standing beside Melantha.

"Mr. Undying, I'm sorry to trouble you again."

"fine."