Ark Undead

61. A homeless person covered in wounds

Walking through the snowfield, the Undead silently memorized the route he had taken, and continued onward.

He had been in this place for two weeks. He wasn't very familiar with it, but it was definitely not unfamiliar either.

The clanging of armor startled the birds still sleeping in the trees, who chirped and flew away into the distance.

The undead silently stared at the marks on the ground.

After last night's heavy snowstorm, all traces on the ground have disappeared. Now only the footprints of some newly discovered small animals and human footprints remain.

The only way to find the giant beast in such an environment is to wait for it to go out to hunt for food.

For a massive body to survive in the icy wilderness, it must require an enormous amount of heat; such a behemoth would never cease its search for food, especially in such an extreme and food-scarce environment.

The immortals planned to circle the entire mountain to confirm if it was indeed this mountain, and then consider other methods.

Even after circling the entire mountain, the immortals couldn't find a single clue.

It now seems that other methods are needed to find the giant bear; simply tracking it is no longer effective!

The bear needs to be made to show itself; otherwise, no matter how you navigate, you won't be able to find its location.

What method should we use?

The undead stood in the forest, silent.

After quite some time, it was already afternoon.

The immortal walked around the mountains and forests two or three times, but still couldn't find the giant bear.

I have absolutely no memory of it, so it seems I'm not really suited to be a hunter.

The immortal walked back while thinking about it.

The nameless explorer suffered a setback in this place. If Oscar knew, he'd probably laugh at him.

Dark clouds gathered in the sky, blocking out the sun's rays, and the forest became dark again.

It is foreseeable that another heavy snowstorm will occur soon.

Since leaving home this morning, the Undead has not returned to the cave to add firewood.

If we don't add more fuel soon, the campfire will go out.

This is such a hassle; the campfire used to never go out.

While the Undead was lost in thought, he had already spotted his own cave.

The first thing to do upon returning to the cave was to pick out two thin branches of firewood from the nearby woodpile and throw them into the campfire in front of us.

Only after the flames roared up again did they throw in two more thick pieces of firewood.

In fact, the Undead have been in Sherag for quite some time now, about a month or so, including the time it took to set off on its journey.

During this time, he also took the opportunity to organize the memories in his mind.

Perhaps it was the power left behind by Solar, but the Undead clearly felt that their previously sluggish thinking had become clear and sharp, and the things they had forgotten were also put back together by the Undead.

Whether it was leaving the Undead Asylum in the North and coming to the Land of Kings with Oscar, or meeting Solar on the bridge outside Undead Town, he recalled them all.

Now, these distant past events have clearly surfaced in the minds of the immortals.

As for why they stayed in Sherag, it was an undead decision to gather information.

He wanted to use the culture and background of these countries to determine how much time had passed and whether there had been any other changes.

In particular, there was what Solar had said: that the Undead had once awakened on this continent, but had now forgotten.

When did that happen? And what did he do?

The only way to find out these things is through travel.

The Undead stirred the burning wood in the campfire with a branch in his hand, pondering his next move.

We could go back to the village later, use the money we saved to buy some firewood, and ask old Setu if he had any other news about the giant bear.

Now, he has completely adapted to his identity as a bounty hunter.

Aside from rarely asking for money as payment, he's no different from other bounty hunters.

In the dead of night, a fierce snowstorm had already begun, scattering silvery-white flakes across the earth, trying to cover up all traces.

The woman walked through Youquan Town amidst the swirling snow. She came to one of the houses in Youquan Town, extended her slender fingers, and gently knocked on the door.

"Who?"

A male voice came from inside the room, weak and faint. Unless one listened very carefully, one would not hear anyone calling or asking.

"I."

When a woman speaks, she should make sure the man inside the door can hear her clearly.

The person seemed to recognize who it was, opened the door slightly, and peeked out through the crack.

After seeing who it was, he widened the door a little more, glanced left and right to make sure there was no one else outside, and then widened it to a width that allowed one person to pass through.

"Come in quickly! Don't let anyone else see us!"

The woman entered the room, and the man immediately closed the door.

The dim candlelight illuminated the room, but the flickering light, combined with the various messy marks, created a slightly eerie atmosphere.

But the room was surprisingly elegantly furnished, with bookshelves filled with books all around, adding an academic atmosphere to the whole room.

Unfortunately, the carpet inside the room was cluttered with a large pile of heavy books, and several sheets of paper for taking notes were scattered around it.

The man's eyes were sunken in their sockets, and the whites of his eyes were covered with blood vessels. His face was sallow and lifeless. He turned around nervously and looked at the woman leaning against the wall.

"You came alone?"

"if not."

The woman asked a question, seemingly puzzled.

"Nobody will follow me."

“Very good, very good. I also don’t want others to hear what I’ve found.”

The man seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. He was still clutching the pen he used to take notes. In between speaking, he opened his mouth and bit down hard on the end of the pen. Then he hurriedly went to the carpet in the hall and squatted down.

He grabbed a piece of paper from the side and continued writing something on it, while occasionally flipping through books, trying to find something in the documents.

The woman, carrying a greatsword, leaned against the wall in silence, waiting for the man to finish his copying.

But as time went by, the man showed no sign of stopping. He picked up one book and then another, constantly flipping through the pages.

The woman was getting impatient, and she spoke up.

"How much longer?"

The woman asked in a detached voice, but she didn't seem to be in a hurry at all, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed.

"Just a little longer! Just a little longer! Skadi, please wait a little longer!"

The man's voice was filled with anxiety and unease.

But what's puzzling is that he had a faint smile on his face.

"Wait a little longer, just a little longer, and you'll find out..."

The book in his hands seemed to possess a magical power; he kept turning the pages, his eyes unable to leave them.

His right hand was constantly writing messy and wild characters on the paper.

The woman called Skadi seemed to sense something was amiss. She frowned slightly and asked uncertainly.

Are you copying down literature related to Ore erosion?

"Wait a little longer! Wait a little longer!"

The man lowered his head, muttering something softly. He wrote faster and faster with his right hand, but the handwriting became so messy that it was completely illegible.

"Wait a little longer... Skadi... soon..."

Rather than recording words, it's more like sketching some kind of pattern.

Skadi raised her right hand and gripped the greatsword on her back.

"Can you hear me? Answer me, Dales, are you copying down literature related to Orestone disease? Answer me!"

Her tone grew increasingly stern, and she took the greatsword from its hilt, pointing it diagonally at the ground.

Dales finally heard Skadi's voice and looked up.

“Skadi… I heard you…”

He wore a strange and unrestrained smile, drool dripped down his chin, and his eyes had turned completely dark black.

Skadi only then noticed that Dales' teeth had turned into sharp spikes. And after the first row of teeth, a second row continued to grow, and within seconds, a third row of teeth emerged from the inside of his mouth.

The man called Dales let out a meaningless whimper and uttered his last words.

“I heard…His voice…Skadi…with me…”

The fingers holding the pen went limp in a split second, the joints seemed to melt, and they turned into soft, root-like limbs.

As Dales' head continued to shake, his originally black hair fell out strand by strand, and his sallow skin gradually regained its luster.

But the luster was actually the mucus seeping from the skin reflecting the dim light of the candle.

"Come back with me...to our homeland...back to...His..."

Hiss!

Before he could finish speaking, a giant sword cleaved the man's body in two from below.

A massive amount of green liquid gushed out, and tiny buds sprouted from the cut surface, trying to embrace each other and stitch back together.

However, a special energy lingered on the cross-section, and the buds intertwined with each other, but could never merge into one.

"..."

Skadi looked down at Dales in front of her; the two separated bodies still reached out their hands, now soft limbs, to her.

So the greatsword once again sliced ​​through flesh and blood, completely severing Dales's deformed head.