Slime Immortal.

Chapter 155 You must address him as Your Majesty the King

Chapter 155 You must address him as Your Majesty the King
These words were like ice water poured into boiling oil. Calvin was stunned at first, then laughed in anger.

"Hahaha... You think death can save you from everything and erase the past?!"

"Back then, you were so focused on valuing that damned honor more than life itself, so single-mindedly upholding a false sense of justice. Did you ever think that all I wanted to do was run away, to escape far, far away from that damned truth..."

“Arthur, you have ruined a coward’s escape route.”

Arthur grew increasingly silent, his soul flame flickering slightly. He tried to figure out who this powerful knight was and what justice he was talking about, but his mind was completely blank, and he couldn't remember anything.

Seeing him like this, Calvin's anger burned even more fiercely, almost threatening to consume his reason.

Bounties, missions, battlefields... everything was left behind.

At this moment, all he could see was this guy who had forgotten him, and all he could think of was the most primal and intense thought—to defeat him.

"You're dead, so why did you come back? Why did you have to appear in front of me!" Calvin roared, a whirlwind suddenly rising around him, and the knight's sword in his hand, carrying violent wind pressure, launched a relentless attack on Arthur like the storm itself.

Gray Eagle Slash

[Spike process]

The sword strikes were swift and ruthless, each blow carrying the will to tear everything apart and the immense power of an elite professional.

Arthur wielded his spear, which burned with eerie blue flames, and struggled to parry. His bones creaked from the violent impacts, and he stumbled backward.

He was somewhat confused, feeling as if he had forgotten something, forgotten a certain power that could guarantee victory in one strike.

Chen Yu, standing on the city wall, saw Arthur in a disadvantageous position and felt a slight tremor in his gel-like body, preparing to intervene.

“Your Majesty, no need.” Arthur’s voice came through the gel network, strained but exceptionally firm.

He suddenly exerted his strength to deflect Calvin's heavy slash, and used the momentum to leap back and catch his breath.

He raised his empty eye sockets, looked at Calvin who was closing in, and said slowly, "Your fighting style... feels very familiar."

Calvin sneered upon hearing this, pointing his sword at Arthur: "Familiar? It seems you still retain a pitiful impression of your defeated opponent."

"Back in the Cavaliers' training camp, if it weren't for you, I would have been the most dazzling number one in that batch!"

"I've put in ten times more effort and sweat than you! A hundred times more! And you... you disgusting bastard, just by relying on that damned talent and the resources of the Arevalo family, you'll always casually keep your head over my shoulders!"

"You think too highly of yourself, born to be on cloud nine, while I, Douglas from a declining family, am destined to live in your shadow and be forgotten!"

His voice trembled with excitement, "But things are different now. After you died, I honed my skills every moment, seeking breakthroughs on the edge of life and death, and I am only one step away from the realm of the extraordinary!"

"Wind! Heed my command!"

Calvin raised his longsword high, and an even more violent whirlwind gathered around him, his aura rising steadily.

[Gray Iron Guillotine]

With the help of the wind, his attacks became even more fierce and aggressive, sometimes pouring down like a storm, and sometimes launching a fatal blow like a hawk.

Arthur could barely defend himself and had no chance to fight back. His drifting soul flames were constantly being sliced apart by the wind blades, and his situation was extremely precarious.

Iselin, standing on the city wall, frowned: "This dumb skeleton is no match for him at all."

Chen Yu remained calm: "I believe him."

It doesn't really matter anymore. With Calvin gone as their leader, the mercenary group, now only a dozen or so men, has been completely surrounded by the monster army. It's unlikely that he can turn the tide of the battle on his own.

On the battlefield, the sword flashed again, and Arthur dodged awkwardly to the side, Calvin's sword almost grazing his ribs.

The soul fire in Arthur's eyes flickered violently. In the repeated familiar yet strange encounters with Calvin, fragments of memories sealed by death were struggling to emerge from the depths of his soul.

As he parried the attacks, he asked uncertainly, "You are... Calvin? That very strong opponent?"

"Hmph! Cunning undead, you are not Arthur!" Calvin's offensive did not diminish, and the wind from his sword howled even more fiercely.

Arthur took the brunt of Calvin's powerful slash, which made his armor vibrate, but the images flashing through his mind became clearer and clearer.

In a hazy vision, he saw a young Calvin.

Arrogant, sharp, and domineering, he makes no secret of his desire for power and honor, and always challenges him on the training field.

Back then, they fought just like that, with the familiar wind and the familiar use of power, only they were like that back then...

The power I possess is different from what I have now.

In the hazy memories of that battle, he vaguely saw a howling frost wolf head emblem, and a familiar yet strange sense of power emanated from it.

He instinctively tried to grasp that power, but it was like trying to catch the moon's reflection in water—elusive and unattainable.

Calvin's sword once again tore through the illusion, pursuing the enemy with the anger and resentment that had been building up for over a decade.

The wind whipped his gray hair, and he roared, his longsword trembling in his hand.

Tell me, what do you have left now?!

"strength?"

"Let me show you what power really is!"

"Knight's Trial, grant me a body of rock!" As his words fell, the immense vitality and unwavering will of his body transformed into a tangible sense of oppression that crushed down upon him.

"The Gray Eagle Trial taught me to listen to the rhythm of the heavens!"

boom!
A pair of grey eagle-wing phantoms, made of pure gale force, unfolded behind him, flapping violently and stirring up waves of air.

With each step he took, it was as if he were walking on a staircase of wind, his speed suddenly increasing, his figure becoming elusive, and his sword blade wreathed in his hissing wind.

"Defend the trial, forge an indomitable bulwark!"

Om-!
A complex and dazzling diamond-shaped shield emblem flashed across his chest before merging into his entire body.

An indestructible field of power emanated from him, as if no magic could get even a fraction of a step closer to him.

"The trials of war have given me an unparalleled fighting spirit!"

His eyes seemed to burn with a molten fighting spirit, and a terrifying, unyielding will emanated from his body, even affecting the surrounding reality, causing the air to distort slightly due to this pure fighting spirit.

The longsword in his hand hummed with excitement, yearning to drink the blood of a powerful foe.

"Four trials, this is who I am now!"

The knight's body, the wings of a gray eagle, the protective bulwark, and the will to fight—all intertwined and merged within him, ultimately converging into a terrifying and suffocating pressure.

He no longer seemed like a simple knight, but a war embodiment forged from power, wind, light, and fighting spirit.

"Now you are nothing but a decaying skeleton. What do you have to contend with me with, and how could you possibly defeat me?!"

He roared, unleashing a devastating attack on Arthur once more, carrying a terrifying force.

Wherever the sword wind passed, the ground cracked slightly and the air hissed; its power was far more terrifying than any previous attack.

As Arthur retreated and parried the onslaught, his armor began to show scratches, and the worn edges crumbled into small metal fragments, making it appear precarious.

But his gaze, peering through the leaping soul flames, grew increasingly focused and earnest.

That expression made Calvin, who was unleashing his full power, feel for a moment that the opponent he once feared and had to admire had... returned.

Arthur spoke slowly, his voice still hoarse, but tinged with nostalgia: "I remember, Calvin, thank you."

"Thank me?!"

Calvin laughed in exasperation, his attack faltering. "I brought you destruction, and you're thanking me? Arthur, have you lost even your last shred of sanity since becoming a ghost?!"

Arthur replied with unusual seriousness, "Thank you for letting me find... the power of forgetting." As soon as he finished speaking, the blurry silver wolf head emblem before him suddenly became clear.

This time, he no longer needed to try in vain; the cold, piercing, and desolate will resonated with him on its own initiative.

The soul fire in his eye sockets burned fiercely, and he raised a bone hand, making a grasping motion in front of him as if there were an invisible sword hilt there.

"The Frostwolf Trial..."

An ancient word echoed deep within his soul.

That was the most difficult and most challenging trial for the Arevalo family.

It wasn't originally a tradition of knightly families; it can be traced back to the ancient times when the northern orc tribes lived alongside frost wolves.

This is a path to communicate with the ancient wolf spirit and master the power of extreme cold.

This power was buried by the winds and frost as the orc tribes declined or migrated, and was even forgotten by some of the tribesmen. But in the end, it became a symbol of the strength of the Arevalo family by a twist of fate.

He was once the youngest Frostwolf Knight of the Arevalo family, but that power was lost as the family's honor was forgotten.

And now, Frostwolf has once again found its master.

Suddenly, the sweltering air on the battlefield seemed to be dispelled by the chill, and a layer of glistening white frost quickly condensed on the ground, centered on Arthur.

A distant wolf howl, seemingly emanating from an ancient ice plain, suddenly rang out, piercing through the clamor of the battlefield.

Calvin's pupils constricted as he saw two Frostwolf spirits, composed of pure ice and ancient will, leap out from the frost beneath Arthur's feet.

They are crystal clear, with eyes that shimmer with a deep blue light, and their postures are agile and full of wild power.

It circled Arthur once, then let out a submissive growl and slammed into his loosely clenched hand.

An extreme burst of cold air!
A frost sword with two howling frost wolf heads inlaid in its hilt appeared out of thin air in Arthur's hand.

The sword emitted a visible, icy mist, as if the surrounding air were about to freeze.

Calvin floated in mid-air, like the embodiment of storm and steel, looking down at Arthur.

However, when he saw the Frost Sword in Arthur's hand, formed from the ancient wolf spirit and the power of extreme cold, and felt its vast, cold, and incredibly pure powerful aura, the anger and obsession on his face instantly vanished.

Instead, a complex and indescribable emotion emerged, which ultimately transformed into a relieved and joyful laugh.

"Haha... Hahaha! Good! Very good! This is the real you, this is the Arthur Arevalo I know."

"This is the power that I chased, that I felt resentful about, and that I remember to this day."

His laughter no longer contained the resentment of before, but only a long-lost excitement.

"Come! Let me see if the Silver Wolf's fangs are still as sharp as they used to be!"

Before his laughter subsided, the gray eagle wings on his back suddenly flapped, and he transformed into a giant azure storm sword that tore through the sky, carrying terrifying power as he fiercely attacked Arthur.

This was him concentrating all his power into one strike.

Gray Eagle Slash

Faced with this terrifying offensive, Arthur simply raised the Frost Sword in his hand.

The two wolf heads on the sword guard seemed to come alive, emitting a silent roar.

The extreme cold no longer spread, but instead became extremely concentrated, gathering on the sword's edge, as if the surrounding light was being swallowed and distorted by the extreme cold.

There was no earth-shattering collision.

There was only a crisp, soft sound, like ice crystals gently shattering.

"Ding!"

The immensely powerful azure storm sword seemed to have met its nemesis the moment it touched the tip of the frost sword. The raging wind power was instantly frozen and solidified, then shattered inch by inch.

Calvin's joy and fighting spirit froze instantly, turning into incredulous astonishment.

He felt as if his all-out attack had struck an ancient, unyielding ice peak, all his power mercilessly annihilated by the pure "coldness".

The next moment, an irresistible force traveled along the sword.

"puff--!"

Calvin suddenly spat out a mouthful of blood, as if he had been struck by an invisible giant hammer. He flew backward and crashed heavily onto the muddy ground dozens of meters away, rolling several times before barely coming to a stop.

His armor was torn, and his longsword flew out of his hand, landing on the ground beside him where it trembled slightly.

He struggled to lift his head, only to find the tip of an icy sword, radiating a chilling aura, hovering above him.

The icy sword intent stung his skin and froze his last thought of resistance.

Calvin lay in the mud, coughing violently, blood spilling from the corner of his mouth.

His unfocused gaze swept across the battlefield—the once orderly mercenary ranks were now in disarray, most of the survivors had abandoned their weapons and were surrounded by the terrifying swarms of bees and beetles, and any sporadic resistance was quickly suppressed.

We've lost...we've lost completely.

But unexpectedly, the expected resentment and anger did not materialize.

Instead, an unprecedented sense of tranquility enveloped him.

He stopped struggling and let himself lie back on the cold ground, looking up at the clear blue sky and drifting white clouds above the swamp.

At that moment, the huge weight that had been pressing on his heart seemed to disappear.

The guilt of bringing shame upon the family, the self-reproach for betraying the past, the twisted pride, and the resentment towards all injustices... all became insignificant under this tranquil sky.

He lost.

But his opponent was Arthur Arevalo.

He is the man who won all his resentment and respect through his strength, and he returns with even more trial power.

Therefore, the defeat was not unjust.

He slowly closed his eyes, his voice calm yet hoarse: "Do it. Give me the ending a knight deserves."

However, the expected icy piercing did not occur.

He waited a moment, then opened his eyes in confusion and saw that Arthur was still pointing his sword at him, but the tip of the sword did not fall.

"Your crime will naturally be decided by His Majesty," Arthur said calmly.

"His Majesty?"

Calvin forced himself to sit up.

"You really accepted a slime as your boss?"

Arthur's skull head tilted slightly, as if he were seriously considering Calvin's question, his soul fire flickering steadily.