The Paladin in the Abyss
Chapter 818 - 829: A Costly Victory

Lancelot had already experienced similar scenes many times. It wasn’t that he’d never softened in the face of an enemy’s pleas for mercy, and he had indeed experienced betrayal of such kindness, surviving solely by luck. Since then, he had never allowed his emotions to affect any battle-related decisions.

This didn’t mean he always killed without leaving any prisoners, but an opponent as dangerous as a Fiend was always better dead than alive.

Furthermore, to ensure the enemy stayed dead, Lancelot’s movements never ceased. Dense Sword Shadows flashed by, slicing the headless corpse of the Fiend into a spray of fragments. Then, he swung his Longsword in mid-air, two crescent-shaped Sword Qis shot out, completely obliterating the spinning head of the old hag.

Lancelot was always prepared for an attack from another Fiend, but from the moment he jumped onto the top of the tree house to completely destroy the enemy, he didn’t encounter the expected ambush, which was somewhat strange.

Seeing that the enemy in front of him had been entirely dealt with, the Human Knight turned his head towards the almost crippled animated small house he had chopped down earlier, surprised to find that another Fiend had already fled — the grotesque old hag had crawled into a tub-sized flying iron pot and was already very far away, probably deciding to escape the moment Lancelot returned.

Just one look and Lancelot knew he didn’t need to chase, not because he couldn’t catch up, but because it would leave him too far from his comrades, and there might still be other traps. But as he thought this, a group of Undead vultures hovering high quickly spotted the escaping Fiend; they screeched and dived down, completely engulfing the pot within seconds.

Despite the distance exceeding a thousand feet, Lancelot still clearly saw the Fiend’s final fate: being torn to pieces by countless claws, as if those Undead vultures had some deep-seated hatred towards her. Perhaps that was the truth — when alive, these vultures guarded the Fiend’s woodlands, but what was the reason behind it?

Lancelot withdrew his gaze and turned to his still-fighting comrades. Alamir had received support from Tanya and was clearly gaining the upper hand in a two-on-two battle, while the two Maizeros Demons evidently had no intention to continue fighting but had no chance to escape.

"Damn... you guys are taking all the fun..."

A rather exhausted voice sounded; Bruto stood up, leaning on his Warhammer, wobbling as if he had a five-hundred-pound barbell pressed on his shoulders. But once he steadied himself, his entire aura changed.

"Moradin!!!!"

The Dwarf roared and charged at the enemy. Lancelot felt a slight stir in his heart and quickly headed over, not making an immediate move but shadowing the Dwarf from a not-too-close, not-too-far distance.

Bruto was evidently not in good shape, seemingly acting entirely under the drive of anger, but fighting techniques had become second nature to the young Dwarf. He first swung his Shield, parrying the two extra arms of the Maizeros Demon from behind, then his Warhammer followed through smoothly, as if wielding a lightweight Dagger.

The Maizeros Demon’s Carapace was extremely tough, making them akin to heavily armored infantry in Plate Armor, and blunt weapons were always effective against such iron lumps. Standing in front of the enemy, Alamir also intensified his offensive to support Bruto’s action. The first blow of the Warhammer smashed directly at the connection between the Fiend’s arm and body, completely destroying the opponent’s defense, followed by repeated blows like cracking walnuts.

On the other side, Tanya had single-handedly finished her opponent. In one-on-one combat, the Pike already easily held an advantage, and the Sorcerer’s Shadow Weapon was exceptionally sharp, wielded effortlessly as if weightless—but that was merely an illusion; anyone who believed it would definitely suffer greatly.

Lancelot knew that even if he engaged, the enemy would not fall any faster; instead, allowing Bruto to vent his anger was more important. So he walked swiftly to his fallen comrades, bending down to check their conditions.

Terrible.

Kalalin’s Protective Magic had weakened the attack of the flesh golem, but his right shoulder was still struck by a sword. That blow crushed his shoulder blade, clavicle, and several upper ribs, with blood likely already flowing into his lungs. In a world without Magic, these were nearly fatal injuries; the Scholar’s face was pale, unable even to groan.

Beside him, Zombie Princess Fran appeared in an even worse state: she had been directly bisected at the waist. However, as an Undead creature cursed in a special way, such an injury could not yet free her from suffering. At the moment, Zombie Princess’ lower half convulsed wildly like a fish thrown ashore, while the upper half desperately tried to keep her legs still—the positions she struck were truly unbecoming of a Princess, and being the thoughtful half, her upper body had the necessity to stop it.

Thinking carefully, if she had understood this principle while alive, some tragedies might have never happened.

Old Dwarf Barrend had been carefully leaned against a rock by Bruto, but now the ground beneath him was stained red with his own blood. The flesh golem’s sword not only pierced Barrend’s chest but the grooves on the sword blade ensured the blood flowed out of his body at the fastest speed. Actually, upon seeing the wound, Lancelot could hardly believe the old Dwarf was still alive, if it were an ordinary human, ninety percent would have gasped their last breath in half a minute; one in a hundred might survive.

Of course, as Lancelot checked his comrades’ injuries, he also poured healing potions into their mouths and directly onto the wounds if they couldn’t swallow. Doing so had some effect, as their Halfling chef (and Alchemist) had assured them. Besides this, Lancelot could only rely on the Elf Priest for their short-term recovery.

Unfortunately, even if Alamir still had the ability to do so, they didn’t have enough time. The Angel Golem could return from its banished state at any moment, but that wasn’t the biggest concern — Lancelot’s Spirit Perception had already sensed a mass of Undead creatures approaching; it seemed the battle behind had concluded. He certainly didn’t expect Peyton Derrick to show favor towards him, as he had merely helped it regain power accidentally, and such a force-stealing character might just want to eliminate Lancelot’s group quickly to remove any uncertainties affecting its rule.

Search the lightnovelworld.cc website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.