The Paladin in the Abyss
Chapter 823 - 834: The Name

The Lich’s immensely powerful spell caused terrible destruction, setting large swathes of the surrounding forest ablaze. The air was thick with choking smoke and drifting embers. Under normal circumstances, a group of mere mortal adventurers couldn’t possibly survive such a devastating spell, and the Lich didn’t notice the glowing wings that appeared at the moment of the explosion. To it, those rats attempting to take advantage of the chaos must have turned into lumps of charcoal under its grand, magnificent spell, and there was no need to pay them any further attention.

In reality, though the companions were all covered in dirt, they hadn’t suffered much harm, except for Lancelot who had protected them. His condition was indeed terrible, his energy nearly depleted, feeling just like that time he had exhausted his powers atop the Glacial Fortress. The difference this time was that there was no spirit vein similar to a volcano nearby to quickly restore his strength.

Though he was still stronger now than before he came to the Abyss, Lancelot felt a sense of unprecedented vulnerability. However, if the once Human Knight had some reservations about fleeing, now he had no psychological barriers—only abandoning his companions would be shameful, leaving behind enemies wouldn’t be.

Using the cover of the smoke, the group quickly traversed open ground and plunged into another still burning part of the forest. The surrounding air was scorching hot, and everyone’s lungs felt as if they were on fire, but they rushed toward the depths of the forest as fast as they could. After struggling through the dense forest for over half an hour, they had completely left the flames and smoke behind and finally dared to stop for a brief rest.

"Lancelot, how are you doing?" Bruto asked, hands on his knees, leaning against a crooked tree beside the Human Knight. "I’ve never seen you this badly injured before..."

"A bit better than before." Lancelot opened his mouth and spat out a Middle Grade Spirit Stone he had already ’drained’ dry. "This time we got really unlucky. Even if someone told me that was a True God, I wouldn’t doubt it..."

"A True God wouldn’t be that absurd..." Bruto curled his lips. "It’s not like we’ve never fought a True God before. On the peak of the Shattered Mountain Range, against the so-called Ice Maiden..."

"That was just one of her Saints, and Tijana was helping us." Alamir, who was beside them, also chimed in. "That spell earlier was indeed powerful, but at most, it was at the level of a Demigod, definitely not a True God. By the way, Lancelot, are you really feeling unwell? I can cast another high-level Restoration Art..."

"No need." Lancelot shook his head. "I just... consumed too much strength. I can only rely on myself to recover."

"I know the timing might not be right, but, Mr. Knight, who exactly are you?" the Zombie Princess suddenly asked, her tone implying she couldn’t hold it in any longer. "You appeared alongside the Lord of the Dead, and in battle, you can transform into a Giant and grow wings. Are you the legendary..."

"What?" Bruto asked, quite curious. "Have you heard of someone like this before?"

"Supreme Heaven." Fran stated confidently. "Offspring of the gods from the upper planes, naturally endowed with all sorts of supernatural abilities. You must be the son of the Lord of the Dead..."

"Ahahahahaha!!!"

The Dwarf let out an uncontrollable laugh, and the rest of them also found the Zombie Princess’s theory amusing, except for Lancelot, who coughed awkwardly and explained with a serious face:

"My relationship with Cranvo, also known as the Lord of the Dead, is indeed good, but not to the extent of being his son..."

"What’s wrong with being Cranvo’s son? I think it’s pretty cool." Bruto smirked and winked at him. "Son of the Grim Reaper, sounds awesome!"

"It does sound good." Alamir nodded in agreement. "Do you think it fits better before or after ’Savior of Oasis Fort, Mogrondale, and Pascaler, sworn protector against demons, Paladin in the Abyss’?"

’Before.’ a somewhat familiar voice suddenly echoed in their ears. ’You can add that title, I don’t mind.’

The group turned around in surprise, searching for the source of the voice. They soon found it—an inconspicuous skeleton near a tree, which was now floating into the air, transforming into the ghostly figure of Cranvo himself.

"My lord." Lancelot immediately stood up and saluted. "You’ve been aware of our situation all along?"

"Under normal circumstances, no, but you mentioned my name earlier, so I felt it." The Lord of the Dead’s voice sounded like wind through a cave. "As for the previous topic, though I have no sons, I would be very proud if you were my son."

"Uh..." Lancelot said, pulling a long face. "I didn’t know you had such a sense of humor..."

"Of course." The Lord of the Dead’s apparition shrugged. "Humor is a part of death. I can give countless examples, but I guess now isn’t story time. You all seem to be in a bad situation. I find it hard to imagine what could push you to this state. Where are Bruto’s father and the Favored of Midnight? Their souls haven’t come to my hall..."

"They’re severely injured, now under the effect of a Feign Death Technique, and we’ll handle them once we reach a safe place." Lancelot explained concisely. "A lot has happened. After we left, the resurrected Peyton Derrick led an army to attack the witch’s forest, and we snuck in during the chaos. We’ve learned the witches’ secret: in the center of the forest, there’s a small lake filled with water from the Stygian River, which they use to transform neutral evil souls into Face Leeches. We just fought the witches, then encountered Peyton Derrick..."

"No rush." Cranvo suddenly waved his hand, interrupting the Human Knight. "Tell me the details after you escape danger. Just call my name when you do. For now, be careful... someone is coming for you, probably not an enemy. I’ll be waiting."

With that, the Lord of the Dead’s apparition slowly faded and disappeared, and the skeleton gradually settled back to the ground. The group exchanged glances, feeling that something was amiss.

"I figured it out!" Bruto suddenly slapped his thigh. "He’s the Grim Reaper, that’s why his last words were so creepy..."