The Paladin in the Abyss-Chapter 411 - 425 Desperate Struggle

Chapter 411: Chapter 425 Desperate Struggle

“Have you prepared some powerful spell?” Finier’s handsome face showed a hint of curiosity, “Meteor Burst? Group monster Paralyze? Wait… you’re not thinking of using that stream to unleash a Tsunami Technique, are you?”

Upon hearing this, the old elf squeezed out a bitter smile, “His Highness the King Consort is joking. The only Ninth Circle spell I have mastered is the Gate to Another World, and I’ve even lost my spellbook; I don’t have a single high-level spell in my head. But my true expertise has never been in casting spells; it’s in presiding over joint-casting rituals, and now is the time to put that skill to good use.”

“I understand,” Finier nodded, “While you preside over the group casting, I will also be ready to join the battle.”

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Lancelot, Bruto, Alamir, and Cromwell stood together; they had already cleared the demons from this stretch of the wall and were silently waiting for the next wave of enemies.

“Today we’ve really had our fill of slaying demons,” in the midst of a heavy silence, Bruto suddenly spoke up, “I heard Uncle Vito say that in the Father God’s realm, there is a warm hall where the fallen dwarf heroes feast all day long, with mead in their cups that never runs dry…”

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“Don’t you think it’s particularly ominous to talk about this all of a sudden?” Shuni the priest glanced at the dwarf, “Every god offers similar promises, but didn’t I remember that for dwarves it was supposed to be endless mines, filled with the rarest metals and gemstones?”

“Well, maybe my memory got mixed up,” Bruto moved his right arm again, trying to alleviate the soreness in his muscles, “I don’t know why, but I’ve been feeling increasingly… pure? Fervent? As if the significance of life is to battle these Fiends, and slaying each demon brings me joy.”

“A normal phenomenon,” Cromwell also spoke up; at that moment his skull head was covered in blood, making him look especially ferocious, “All Outer Layer planes have some influence on the beings within them, your inclination towards violence is likely…”

The idle chat among comrades was interrupted by the high-pitched whistling of arrows slicing through the air. The Demon Legion charged into the archers’ firing range, but the effectiveness of the assault was much weaker than before—this batch of demons was better equipped and more well-trained. As they charged, they didn’t carry weapons but rather heavy two-handed greatshields; upon seeing arrows descend, they would lift the giant shields above their heads, forming a tight formation shoulder to shoulder, together withstanding the barrage of arrows from above.

Despite their “turtle shell” formation being far from flawless, with gaps everywhere, the improvement in their defense was tangible. If the trebuchets on the keep were still operational, this would have been an excellent opportunity to strike, but now it seemed that the garrison atop the wall would have to resolve this through melee combat.

The demons soon reached the base of the wall, with the archers only reducing their numbers by less than one-tenth. They discarded their two-handed greatshields and drew the weapons strapped to their backs or belts, stepping on the piled bodies of their kin to leap onto the walls.

And then they collided with the sword blades and lance tips of the defenders.

Lancelot swung his Great Sword in a full circle, delivering a heavy blow to the head of a Berserk Demon attempting to leap up. This grotesque creature wore a comically flat helmet, yet surprisingly tough; Lancelot hadn’t used his True Yuan for the strike, but still put in seventy percent of his strength. Although the Demon was knocked off the rampart, judging from its loud howl, it would take another sword strike to completely silence it.

Bruto curled up, hiding himself in the shadows beneath the battlements, so the Demons wouldn’t notice him—until he took a hammer to the knee. The overturned Demon was dealt with by other warriors, while the Dwarf took delight in sneaking attacks on the enemies’ underbelly.

Alamir fought in coordination with Cromwell. As a Priest of the Domain of Life, his heavy armor and Hammer of Dissolution gave him the ability to confront the Demons head-on, while the seemingly inconspicuous skull would pick the right moment to launch sneaky attacks. Its bites and headbutts weren’t as powerful as the Priest’s Hardhead Hammer, but they always came at a critical moment, flipping the balance of victory just as it seemed to stall.

But the numbers of Demons were still too great, and they were much more resilient than the cannon fodder before them. Even with many powerful heroes joining the defenders, it was hard to eliminate all the Demons that made it up the walls immediately, and as they were preoccupied with present foes, more Demons would seize the opportunity to attack the rampart.

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With the physical strength of the Foundation Establishment Stage and a cold iron Great Sword, Lancelot’s killing efficiency was extremely high. He even found moments between battles to observe the movements of the Demon Legion. Yet this provided little hope—a new wave of the enemy’s charge was imminent, inexplicably dominated by Low Rank Demons such as Prime Demons, Coward Devils, and Aberrant Demons this time.

Based on the current situation, these Low Rank Demons, both in fighting power and life force, were very weak, serving only as cannon fodder to exhaust the defenders. But for some reason, it was the elite Berserk Demons that had attacked first.

This was certainly not good news for the defenders. They were now entangled and had no opportunity to rely on their fortifications to quickly slaughter the enemy’s fodder. If these Low Rank Demons managed to surge up the walls unharmed, their sheer numbers could overwhelm the defenders.

A Longsword came chopping towards his back, interrupting the Human Knight’s train of thought. Lancelot twisted his body, completely dodging the strike, while Glacier smoothly sliced into the calf of the sneaking Brezu Demon.

The heavy Great Sword easily cleaved through the unprotected leg; the goat-headed Demon instantly lost its balance. Lancelot freed one hand and pushed forcefully against the creature’s back, causing the one-legged Demon to tumble off the edge of the rampart.

He still didn’t use his True Yuan, even though his Dantian was no longer empty—barely half full, that small amount of True Yuan could make him kill a few enemies faster, but he saved it for a Shadow Jump instead. Having done so much, if he still couldn’t save this fortress and its garrison in the end, the least he’d do was bring his companions back alive.

Lancelot began to sweep his gaze across the fortress, searching for places suitable for street fighting—an ideal spot would be a narrow corner, allowing only three to four people to fight at once. There they could hold out against the enemy for a long while, preferably with an entrance to a sewer at the dead end, allowing for a rapid escape through Shadow Jump.

As a Knight, after his strength had greatly increased, he hardly had the chance to charge into battle riding that majestic Demon warhorse; instead, he’d done more than his share of sneaking through ditches and tunnels—truly a lamentable turn of events!