The Paladin in the Abyss

Chapter 220: 214 Construction Site

Chapter 220: Chapter 214 Construction Site

The best part was that they both used cantrips, which didn’t consume any spell slots. Paired with Lancelot and Bruto, two warriors, charging at the front, they could fully indulge in the joy of blasting their enemies away.

Koula was explaining to little Elysha the roles and responsibilities of each teammate in battle, as well as what they should be doing as Wanderers at the moment. The two of them sneaked to the edge of the battlefield and finished off those enemies who had retreated there due to injuries—most of them had been thrown aside by Bruto’s hammer or dragged there by the wind of Lancelot’s sword.

“Remember, when dealing with Demons, the heart is always the primary target,” Koula pulled her dagger from the back of an enemy. This Flomo had been fully focused on Bruto and was completely unguarded against the sneak attack from behind. The Halfling’s Cold Iron Dagger, thrust from a lower angle, had bypassed its ribcage, pierced through the diaphragm, and plunged into its tumor-riddled heart.

“What about the throat?” Elysha listened carefully while quietly raising her own question.

“The throat is fine too, if there’s only one enemy,” Koula led Elysha back into the shadows, “But for me, the throat is a bit too high. Plus, some especially tenacious fellows still have fight in them even with sliced necks. It might be for a short time, but our small stature can’t handle that.”

The sudden skirmish didn’t last long. A few minutes later, not a single mutated Flomo was left standing.

“They’re even easier to handle than usual,” Lancelot flicked the fresh blood off Frostslash, “But what’s with these strange limbs?”

Kalalin stepped forward and began to closely examine the corpses on the ground. Those killed by Bruto were mostly unrecognizable, but those slain by Lancelot were relatively intact and just needed their body parts reassembled.

“It’s not just the limbs. Some have mutations in their eyes and skin as well,” after an inspection, the Scholar announced, “I guess there’s some kind of evil energy source inside. The Demons that fell here after defeat in battle must have grown these bizarre limbs under the influence of that energy.”

It couldn’t be that Dark Guardian, could it?

Honestly, Lancelot felt a tinge of sympathy for Enrique. In fact, he never believed that loyalty had to be unconditional—as a Senior Commander of the rebellion, Lancelot had no qualms about open rebellion as long as he was convinced it was justified and in the interests of the majority.

Therefore, if the reasons for the Dark Guardian’s fall were indeed as Elothysia had described, Lancelot could fully understand his anger. But people often do things in the heat of emotion that they later deeply regret, and Enrique had committed the unforgivable act of mass slaughter after finding out he had been betrayed.

Lancelot couldn’t help but wonder about the feelings of the enraged hero after he had calmed down. He must have realized he had made grave mistakes—did he regret his impulsive actions? Did he ever try to muster some courage for redemption? Perhaps he did struggle internally, but then the succubi appeared, leading the once glorious and great Holy Warrior back to the Abyssal Demon Realm, sending his soul irreversibly down a dark path.

Using the shadows along the edge of the square, the group slipped into an inconspicuous pile of rubble to observe the situation before them.

“Uncle Kalalin, are you alright?” asked little Issa in a concerned whisper. “Your body temperature seems to be rising very high...”

Lancelot turned his head and saw the red glow in little Issa’s eyes. He knew it was the infrared vision ability possessed by vampires and other nocturnal creatures, allowing them to see in the dark by ‘seeing’ the temperature on the surfaces of objects. And Kalalin, at that moment, was staring excitedly at the busy demons in the square, as if he were peering at the object of his secret affection.

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