Ark Undead

The Undead shook his head and raised his right hand.

A pure flame appeared out of thin air in his palm.

The people of Rhodes Island had seen undead use magic or miracles before. But such a pure First Flame was something they had never seen before.

Surtr, who had come with the Undead, stared blankly at the First Flame once again.

The Levantine Greatsword, which she was hanging behind her, also trembled slightly and reacted.

Upon seeing the flames in the palm of the Undead once again, the Fire God was captivated by the tiny light.

"It's true... no matter how many times I see it, I can't believe that there can still be such a pure flame."

As Vulcan sighed, he didn't forget to turn on the makeshift heating furnace.

The Undead's Greatsword and Melantha's Straight Blade are both made of steel that has been tempered by the Primal Flame for a long time; ordinary flames simply cannot alter their properties.

Only by using initial firing can the material be softened slightly for processing.

Of course, the process won't be as long as it was when forging weapons for the Undead and Melantha.

It's just repair and maintenance.

However, since everyone had nothing else to do during this period, they subconsciously started looking for topics to talk about.

"Speaking of which, Miss Vulcan, have you ever heard of the Undying Arena?"

While watching Vulcan repair his weapon with curiosity, Katie raised her own question.

"The Undying Arena? Of course I've heard of it."

Vulcan nodded and said.

"This battle celebration, which hasn't been held for a long time, was once the most grand battle celebration in Minos. Unfortunately, with Sargon's invasion, this tradition was gradually lost."

Once Melantha's straight knife had softened enough, Vulcan used pliers to take it out of the furnace and picked up the hammer that she always carried with her.

The Undead have heard the sound of this iron hammer striking swords many times.

During that time in the Vulcan Workshop, while maintaining the furnace for her, the Undead would always think of the Firelink Shrine when they heard the sound of Vulcan striking the iron ore.

“When I was studying with my teacher, he often brought up the topic of the Undying Arena.”

Vulcan looked at the iron hammer in his hand and a hint of nostalgia appeared on his face.

"The greatest honor of a Minoan blacksmith is to create a weapon from his own hands. This weapon should accompany a true hero, fight against the spirits of history, and achieve glory."

“Look back, there are master craftsmen here who can repair weapons for heroes.”

The Rhodes Island crew turned around and fired shots across the entire area.

In fact, there were only four craftsmen in total, and the God of Fire was among them.

“There are plenty of blacksmiths in Minos, but only the four of us are qualified to forge and maintain weapons for the heroes.”

Vulcan sighed, raised the iron hammer in his right hand, and lightly tapped the straight sword in front of him.

The straight blade emitted a crisp ringing sound.

Wow...that's amazing.

Katie then realized that, apart from Vulcan, everyone else in the entire venue was an old man with a gray beard.

Their faces were filled with pride, as if being able to participate in the Undying Arena was an honor in itself.

“The priests told us that there was one strict criterion for being selected.”

Vulcan struck twice with his right hammer and then immediately stopped.

Her purpose was not to reforge the weapon, but to listen to the sound it made and see if its internal structure had been damaged.

"At the very least, we must use ancient methods to successfully forge a batch of weapons of decent quality, while also being proficient in modern forging techniques."

Vulcan nodded in satisfaction; the sound emanating from the straight blade indicated that it was in excellent condition.

"My teacher didn't abandon traditional forging methods despite the popularity of modern technology, so I've always practiced diligently. That's why I'm here today, repairing your equipment. And..."

The God of Fire looked meaningfully at the undead who were steadily permeating the furnace with the primordial flame.

"If it weren't for my knowledge of ancient forging techniques, I wouldn't have been able to forge this pair of weapons for the two of you."

To be honest, when it comes to forging, the first thing the Undead think of isn't Vulcan.

It was Ander, the ordinary blacksmith in Kazimir.

He forged the first sword and shield for the undead, and he also provided the undead with comfortable armor.

"We've gotten off topic, but as far as I'm talking about the Undying Arena, that's all I know."

After saying this much, she fell silent.

The upcoming maintenance needs to be carried out carefully, and it's not appropriate for the Rhodes Island staff to disturb them further.

Weapon maintenance is just the first item on the agenda for today.

However, the next plan is simply to let Melanie relax.

Melantha's ability to pass the individual competition and become a warrior participating in the Undead Arena already demonstrates her skill.

Even Melantha herself never thought she could actually get this far.

Therefore, the final battle of immortality is more about broadening one's horizons.

Everyone treated today as a day to relax, and no one really expected Melantha to win the battle against the Heroic Spirits.

After enjoying a day of fun in the festive atmosphere of Minos, everyone from Rhodes Island returned to their inn.

After dealing with the various letters left for Melantha and the Undead, it was getting late, so I packed up and decided to rest.

However, at that moment, a person dressed in a black priest's robe walked into the inn.

After asking the boss, they knocked on the door of the immortal.

"Sir Knight, the High Priest needs your help."

"I just saw the undead," the priest said in a low voice.

He bowed respectfully to the immortal.

"Please follow me to the Temple of Heroes."

...

At this moment, underground within the Temple of the Twelve Heroes.

The iron gate where the sacred objects were enshrined was locked, and loud thuds could be heard coming from inside from time to time.

The priests formed a circle in front of the sacred object, all waiting anxiously.

Inside the gate, an elderly man with gray hair, dressed in ancient armor, holding a chain hammer and shield, confronted the warrior in front of him.

The longsword struck the shield, causing the old man to involuntarily take a step back. He then nimbly dodged the next strike while attempting to counterattack.

Behind it, a gate shrouded in thick fog blocked the old man's view, making it impossible to see anything inside.

The warrior confronting the old man was also wearing heavy armor, and in his hand he held a long, straight sword, while in his other hand he gripped a well-made medium shield.

The blue cloak behind him seemed to have some kind of badge sewn on it, but it was so tattered that its appearance was completely illegible.

Rather than a warrior, he resembled a knight described in ancient books. He carried the scent of smoke and decay, a heroic spirit manifested from a sacred relic.

The old man wanted to fight back, but he was clearly outmatched by the tall knight.

The knight didn't say a word, but silently launched an attack on the old man in front of him.

The longer the priests waited outside, the more uneasy they became.

This wasn't the first time the High Priest had fought against a Heroic Spirit alone, but it was the first time he had also imprisoned himself inside.

The high priest probably couldn't guarantee he could defeat the warrior who appeared out of legend, so he gave this order as a precaution.

And there's not much anyone can do about it, because it's the "rule".

In a fair battle, the Heroic Spirits will choose their opponents.

Once the fighting spirit's desire to fight is worn down, the relic's wrath will subside.

If someone else intervenes, it will trigger the appearance of another heroic spirit.

Therefore, trying to suppress Heroic Spirits with numerical superiority is a pipe dream.

If the battle were to take place within a manifested arena, there would be no problem.

However, the relic has not yet opened the gate to the arena, meaning that if the wrath of the Heroic Spirit cannot be quelled, the Heroic Spirit will kill the user.

The priests were unable to decipher the words of the sacred objects, a situation that was unprecedented in all of the historical records that could be examined.

Just as everyone was anxiously waiting for the battle to end, the warriors, guided by the priest, appeared in the temple's underground.

"Where are the heroic spirits?"

The immortal looked around and asked.

"Inside, the high priest is fighting him, but the battle has been going on for a long time. The high priest should be about to give up."

The priests breathed a sigh of relief, while Pallas's uncle quickly replied that the Undead were innocent.

Inviting the undead to fight was a conclusion reached by the priests after discussion.

Pallas could hear divine pronouncements, a fact known to all the temple priests.

Pallas said that the immortals are the messengers of the sacred objects, which is why they ask for the immortals' help.

"Open the door."

Even without the Undead saying anything, a priest had already gone to the entrance and unlocked the huge iron lock.

The sound coming from inside the door drew the attention of the undead.

It was the crisp sound of weapons clashing.

Once the lock was unlocked, the undead reached out, refused the priests' help, and pushed open the several-meter-high iron gate himself.

A tooth-grinding creaking sound came from the bearings of the iron gate.

As soon as he pushed open the door, the Undead saw two warriors locked in combat.

The old man's armor was stained with blood, and his body was covered in several wounds.