Ark Undead

"How could it be him? Were the sixteen warriors not fighting each other, but battling against heroic spirits?"

The audience was completely unprepared for this scene.

Just as people were speculating about the nature of the Undead Arena, the High Priest raised his right hand and struck the giant bell beside him.

The resounding chimes drowned out all other sounds.

People turned their attention back to the altar and the temple.

"The spirits have appeared and are selecting warriors according to the rules. Heroes must not touch the sacred flame on their own initiative."

The high priest raised his voice, which spread outwards using Originium Arts. It served both as a reminder to the warriors and as an explanation of the rules to the audience.

The so-called sacred fire is the ashes placed in a small royal vessel in the center of the Sixteen Meetings lounge.

Once the Heroic Spirit has chosen a candidate, the flames within the Royal Vessel will burn fiercely.

"The chosen hero must touch the flames within one minute, enter the altar, and begin the battle."

After speaking, the high priest rang the giant bell again.

The deep, resonant chimes once again swept across the entire square.

"Waiting for the heroic spirits to choose."

Like the spirits of the twelve heroes, it first surveyed the surroundings, then carried the giant hammer and walked towards the center of the initial furnace.

There was an extinguished campfire there.

As the spirits approached, he followed the guidance in his mind, raised his left hand, and placed his palm toward the campfire.

Whoosh...

The fireless campfire, amidst the sparks, ignited and spread outwards in a ring of light like a fire.

At the same moment, in one of the sixteen lounges, the flames of a campfire suddenly expanded, almost setting the entire lounge ablaze.

"Look! The lounge is lit up, like it's on fire!"

"Isn't that Morton's lounge? Did he get chosen?"

Amidst the whispers of the crowd, Morton, in the lounge, picked up his heavy hammer, slung it over his shoulder, went to the flames, and reached out his hand into the fire.

As he reached out towards the flames, his body seemed to melt, transforming into a beam of white light that surged into the flames.

Meanwhile, in the scene blocked by the light curtain, a similarly white rune lit up on the ground.

Amidst the swirling Martians, Morton appeared from the runes in the same manner as the Heroic Spirits.

He slowly stood up, slammed the heavy hammer on his shoulder to his side, creating a large crater in the ground.

It was only then that people belatedly realized that the two had made almost identical entrances.

"this..."

Even the hammers they held were almost identical in design, with a square iron block cast at the front and a round counterweight at the back, while the joint between the hammer handle and the hammerhead gradually widened until it covered the entire hammerhead.

This seamless hammer design is a unique casting method that can only be achieved using traditional Minoan forging techniques.

"Mr. Morton?"

Yato paused for a moment, and when he saw that the two were moving in the same way, he already understood something.

"Dubin said."

"I'm afraid this heroic spirit is Mr. Morton's elder. No wonder Mr. Morton was so determined to participate in the Undead Arena, even though he had a mission at the border."

Yes, Morton, as a frontier hero, is also participating in the Undead Arena because his ancestor was one of the twelve heroes.

He still had a mission in Akrotti village, but Pallas temporarily put his mission on hold and gave him permission to participate in the competition.

Morton certainly didn't disappoint Pallas; he successfully squeezed into one of the sixteen spots in the Undead Arena.

His wish was to be able to fight against his elders.

After Morton slammed the hammer onto the ground, he first bowed to the heroic spirit in front of him before gripping the giant hammer at his side again and hoisting it onto his shoulder.

The spirit bowed slightly in respect.

This is a fair duel between soldiers, and it should look fair.

Even if the two are indeed related by blood, this is the Arena of the Undying.

There is no reason why any opponent is chosen; any opponent is a worthy opponent to fight.

The moment the two finished bowing, they both moved.

The giant hammer covered a distance of more than ten meters, and after the two charged in the same posture, they collided violently.

The massive hammers clashed, the heavy clang of steel making the hearts of the spectators near the altar skip a beat; it felt as if their ears had been struck by a heavy hammer.

When the hammers came into contact, the resulting shockwave caused the flower bushes beneath their feet to buckle, and countless specks of dust spread outwards.

At this moment, Melantha and the others realized that Morton's strength should not be what they had seen before.

"Little Melantha really hit the jackpot..."

Onstan shook his head, crossed his arms, and sighed.

Even Yato had to admit that if Melantha's tactics hadn't perfectly countered Morton's heavy and unpredictable moves, Melantha probably wouldn't have had a chance at all in that match.

Even so, Melantha, who took a punch from Morton, almost lost her fighting ability.

If it weren't for Melantha's strong willpower, that punch would have knocked Melantha unconscious, and there wouldn't have been the subsequent outburst.

In fact, Morton had already demonstrated his strength in team battles.

With Melantha as the main attacker, Morton single-handedly shouldered Melantha's share of the pressure, holding off the advance of two warriors and even showing a tendency to turn the tables and suppress them.

It was within this initial furnace, in this battle undisturbed by others, that two warriors of similar styles clashed, and they finally witnessed Morton's true strength.

Morton slammed his hammer down on his predecessor's hammerhead. The force of the impact was absorbed by their respective bodies, and at the same time, the hammer, which had bounced back due to the reaction force, was pulled back.

Their choices collided once again with the same actions.

After both men pulled on their hammers and spun around, they used tremendous force to make the hammerheads collide with each other.

Each impact was like a boulder crashing into a mountain, shaking the entire arena.

Although these two soldiers wore different outfits, their movements were as if they were copies of themselves placed against each other.

Morton's hammer clashed with the hammer of his predecessor, and even the hammers groaned in pain.

The two men swung their heavy hammers without any mercy, and the gusts of wind generated by their weapons stirred up the dust on the ground of the Initial Furnace.

Every clash of weapons resonated with the audience's heartbeats. Like a rhythmic beat, each strike struck a drumbeat in the heart, creating a powerful echo.

This incredibly fierce and overwhelming fighting style, using immense force to suppress the enemy, ignited the audience's emotions. After the initial shock, the audience immediately turned to fervor. Why are the heavy weapon users, on average, so tall? It's because their bodies, honed through years of combat, need to be able to withstand the force and impact of the weapons they wield.

The purest clash between steel; their battle so far has been a pure contest of strength and speed.

It's not just about the physical fitness developed through years of fighting, but also a test of eyesight and the ability to deflect force.

This could hardly be called a battle; it was more like a brutal struggle.

The two sides in the battle are not only a heroic spirit and a hero.

It's more like a senior from the previous generation questioning his juniors.

Are you ready to take the reins from me?

"Drink it!!"

Morton unconsciously let out a shout, and with his right hand, he swung the hammer handle at his predecessor once more.

His predecessor, standing before him, moved in perfect unison with him, and their warhammers clashed once more.

The heavy hammer broke apart upon contact, the hammerhead trembled, and the jar made a clanging sound.

But Morton was not as united as everyone had imagined in his opposition.

He chose to loosen his grip on the hammer.

Morton did not turn his body and swing the giant hammer as he had done before.

Instead, he took a step forward, his left foot sinking into the dust of the ground, his right fist clenched, and he threw a punch at the heroic spirit in front of him, about to smash it directly onto the head.

This sudden turn of events stunned everyone. They hadn't expected that Morton, who had always been known for his heavy weapons, would actually abandon his hammer and instead choose close-quarters combat.

But the Undead, who had been watching the battle all along, and Ornstein both nodded silently.

Good choice.

Morton wasn't foolish enough to abandon his strengths; rather, he was acutely aware of his weaknesses and shortcomings.

Why was Morton able to accept the loss to Melanie Sands so calmly?

It was because Melantha defeated Morton that he had a completely new experience. Moreover, Melantha was simply taking an unconventional approach, not practicing evil.

He realized exactly where he had gone wrong in the fight.

Was it due to a lack of ability? No.

Morton's strength was unparalleled, and his fighting style was extremely fierce. Logically speaking, Morton should have been able to suppress Melantha to the point that she couldn't even lift her head.

But Morton still lost, and he lost because he ignored the limitations imposed by close-quarters combat.

And his predecessors, who shared the same lineage as Morton, naturally had the same problems.

That is, once the opponent gets close, the power of his heavy hammer technique will be reduced by at least half, or even more.

The power of a hammer lies in the combination of immense force and inertia generated by the hand wielding the hammer handle.

However, if the force is intercepted at that moment, the heavy hammer will not be able to display its due power.

That's why even the Heroic Spirits seemed to have been caught off guard by Morton's punch.

He continued swinging the hammer, aiming to smash it down on Morton's head.

Morton's fist was the first to reach its destination, leaving a mark on the hero's heavy helmet with a muffled thud.

The spirit tilted his head back, and the force with which he swung the hammer shifted slightly. He subconsciously tilted his head back, raising his arm as well.

The hammer grazed Morton's scalp as it swung out.

Morton's eyes remained calm, as if this was within his expectations, and he had already prepared his second punch.

He went a step further, pulling his left fist back from his shoulder and slamming it into the hero's chest.