The Paladin in the Abyss
Chapter 819 - 830: Suppression of Swordsmanship

"Thirty seconds left!"

The half-elf had just finished dealing with his opponent and immediately shouted to Lancelot, with a clear meaning: the banishment spell’s duration had only thirty seconds left, and after thirty seconds, the extremely dangerous angel golem would return.

"Alamir, can you make it?"

Lancelot was actually asking if there was enough time to heal the human scholar and the dwarven artisan, but the elf priest immediately shook his head and replied swiftly:

"Definitely not."

"What about the feign death technique?"

"Yes!"

"Then let’s do it." Lancelot tossed the dimensional bag he used for storing equipment over, "And Bruto, I need this guy to regain his combat power, right now."

"Brother, I’m already fine..."

The dwarf hadn’t even finished his sentence before the elf priest started casting. Alamir took out a small bottle from the pouch at his waist, filled with shining, translucent particles. These were diamond dust, one of the most expensive spell materials, but due to someone’s extreme actions on the Iron Ice Plains, the team was not lacking any materials related to gemstones now.

The elf priest carefully poured out some diamond dust, clenched it firmly in his hand, and then recited a prayer to Shuni, rapid to the point of sounding perfunctory, but in the next moment, a soft golden light shone from his palm.

Alamir gently held Bruto’s wrist, and the golden light surged into the young dwarf’s body. Bruto looked like he had been doused with a bucket of cold water, let out a strange cry, and sprang up from his place, with the feeling of exhaustion seemingly completely gone.

"This is simply... rejuvenation!" Bruto looked incredulously at his hands, "Alright, now I’m really fine..."

"You and Tanya protect Alamir, don’t let anything interfere with the elf."

Lancelot didn’t turn his head, focused entirely on the void in front of him, gripping his long sword tightly. Meanwhile, Alamir was preparing to cast the feign death technique. Using this spell, they could first put the severely injured Barrend and Kalalin into the dimensional bag and treat them once they reached a safe place; the other severely injured person, the zombie princess Fran, had already reassembled her body. Since there was no previous preparation, she could only cast some simple tricks, but these could still be somewhat helpful in battle.

From another direction, the unique sounds of undead creatures fighting were faintly heard. Due to the surrounding environment’s inherent sound suppression properties, hearing these battle cries meant the lich’s army was very close to the group.

On the eaves of two abandoned animated huts, cages full of ravens were still hanging. The ravens kept flapping their wings against the iron cages, their sounds becoming more urgent, as if trying to warn the group about something. In this atmosphere, Bruto, Tanya, and Fran each stood in a corner, nervously observing their surroundings, wary of any possible sudden enemy appearance.

Suddenly, water-like ripples appeared in the air before Lancelot, and the angel golem’s figure swiftly transformed from a semi-transparent state to solid, like a corpse rising from the water. Unlike its previous machine-like cold demeanor, the golem’s face was now filled with rage, seemingly infuriated by the banishment experience.

Naturally, it wanted to vent its anger on the nearest person, and that person was Lancelot. Before fully materializing, the golem flapped its wings and charged, thwarting Lancelot’s offensive plan but also preventing a direct surprise attack.

The angel golem raised its great sword, ready to strike. The weapon was about six feet long but only four fingers wide, appearing more like a magnified version of Frostslash compared to Lancelot’s Glacier. From its stance, the golem indeed used the sword as a hand half sword, relying on its transcendent physical strength as a creature of the heavens.

For a typical opponent, this would pose no issue, but Lancelot was no ordinary person. He stepped to the right, simultaneously twisting and advancing, swiftly dodging the angel golem’s downward slash with a clean, agile spin, moving to the side and rear of his opponent. Meanwhile, Lancelot’s long sword circled around him, eventually returning to its origin, with the difference being the sword tip now pointed in the opposite direction, stabbing backward fiercely.

The angel golem never anticipated such a maneuver, belatedly realizing Lancelot had dodged behind it. Turning instinctively, it saw the human knight’s green-glowing sword tip stabbing into its waist, unable to react in time.

Even with blood and flesh particularly enhanced during its making, it could hardly withstand Lancelot’s full-force thrust, especially such a powerful backstab. Moreover, the waist lacked skeleton support, and utilizing his waist as leverage, Lancelot twisted the sword handle sharply, creating a ghastly, gill-like wound from the side.

The golem seemed oblivious to pain, it forcibly turned to face Lancelot, preparing to strike the human knight with its sword once more.

Once again, Lancelot read its intentions and responded accurately. He moved forward instead of retreating, shoulders almost touching the opponent’s, and raised his sword, using the long crossguard and his armor’s grooves to jam the golem’s weapon completely, preventing any downward strike.

Additionally, he bent his elbows, furiously hitting the golem’s face. Being one of the hardest parts of the body, the elbows accompanied by mithril bracers shattered the golem’s face on the first strike, mangling flesh on the second. The golem, seemingly confused by its locked sword, couldn’t dodge Lancelot’s relentless elbow strikes, prompting the human knight to resolve, channeling power from toes to ears, unleashing a devastating full-body attack.

The angel golem finally sensed something amiss, but it was too late. Under Lancelot’s ironclad elbow, the golem’s head with brown-red hair exploded like a watermelon hitting the ground, scattering brain matter, fragments of bone, and blood everywhere. Lancelot distinctly felt something, perhaps the soul essence, dissipate from the shattered head.