The Paladin in the Abyss

Chapter 323: 337 The Bizarre Demons

Chapter 323: Chapter 337 The Bizarre Demons

Lancelot ignored the dull thud of a bludgeon against flesh and the scraping of claws on armor behind him. He wrapped his palm with True Yuan and focused on searching the bloody, mangled corpse of the Demon.

Soon, he found what he was looking for. From the Demon’s digestive tract, filled with corrosive mucus, Lancelot extracted several fragments of parchment, their contents barely legible.

With a rhythmic clanging, reminiscent of forging iron, accompanied by the Dwarf’s exertion grunts: clang, clang, clang, splash. Then the noise stopped. Lancelot turned to see another Berserk Demon lying quietly on the ground, its head shattered like a watermelon dropped from a height, while Bruto contentedly put away his hammer.

The two exchanged glances and then burst into hysterical laughter, for their appearances were simply too comical. Whether Dwarf or Human Knight, their extravagant armors were soaked through with Demon blood. Bruto’s armor was additionally adorned with some skin and flesh, making him look more Demon than the actual Demons. Had a Holy Warrior passed by, he likely would have attacked Bruto without hesitation.

“Oh, my God,” Bruto shrugged, “what in the Abyss has happened to us...”

“You two, stand together, don’t move.”

Alamir looked at them resignedly. It was well-known that Shuni’s Priest had very little tolerance for filth. He poured a small drop of Holy Water onto his palm from the Holy Water Bottle he carried, and then, while making mysterious gestures, began to chant a prayer. Soon, it was as if an invisible bucket had opened above the heads of Lancelot and Bruto, and a large amount of water materialized out of thin air, washing over their bodies.

This water seemed to contain special components that dissolved bloodstains, even cleaning out the crevices in their armor. Before long, the two were sparkling clean, as if someone had scrubbed them down with a brush.

“How many times is this now? I’ve used up all my First Circle Spell slots just for this,” complained the Elf, arms crossed. “You’re both seasoned Adventurers; can’t you be more careful in battle?”

Incidentally, although silver coins were in circulation in the lower realms, their material caused Fiends pain, so offering silver coins to one of them, for any reason, was considered a grave insult. Most Demons would let the person who gave them the coins know this immediately, and a Demon might temporarily tolerate it due to the strength disparity, but the ensuing retribution would be no less than that meted out to their worst enemy.

Considering this was a team with a special mission, and the fact that the master of this team would most likely send someone to investigate their fate, it was necessary to destroy all traces of their corpses. This might have been difficult in other wilderness areas, but the way the toad had destroyed the evidence gave Lancelot an idea.

The Human Knight summoned many vines, which swiftly gathered up the myriad corpses on the ground and carried them to a snake tree grove nearby. The carnivorous plants initially hesitated over this ‘feeding,’ but the lure of the flesh was too strong. They quickly swarmed and devoured the dozen or so Demon bodies, leaving not even a fragment of bone behind.

After their meal, the snake trees turned and hissed at Lancelot, though whether they were expressing gratitude or contemplating whether to eat the Human Knight next remained unclear.

Lancelot had no interest in understanding what these malevolent trees wanted to convey. He might be skilled at summoning and controlling vines, but he was no Druid, nor did he understand the language of snakes.

About ten minutes had passed since the battle began, but none wanted to delay even a moment longer. After clearing the site, they set off at once.

They continued to advance at a cautious pace, diligently searching for any clues that might reveal the presence of the enemy. Fortunately, they did not encounter another unnecessary battle and, after two more hours of travel, the horizon ahead began to brighten, as if the pitch-black night sky was being wrapped in a layer of fluorescent-light-diffusing gauze.

Lancelot knew that it was the reflection from Lamborado Lake, signaling the end of their night’s journey.

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