The Paladin in the Abyss-Chapter 727 - 748

(Pre-update changes)

"Kalalin, wait a moment..." Lancelot suddenly remembered something, reached into the Dimensional Bag, and took out the Starlight Strike and the Sword of Zariel, "Let me introduce you to two new companions..."

"Ah! By the name of the Lord of the Dawn! There’s a Vampire here!" As soon as she was taken out, the Sword of Zariel roared in her echoing female voice, "Warriors of justice, quickly go and destroy the evil!"

"Destroy your own head," Lancelot pressed the Starlight Strike on top of the Sword of Zariel, "You explain it to her."

"My dear colleague, mind your manners. Miss Isabella is a well-educated, sincere young lady who was transformed and enslaved by an ancient vampire during a malicious attack. Only after her original master was defeated, did she regain her freedom and become Sir Lancelot’s companion," the Starlight Strike began in his elegant tone, "If you were a bit more patient, you would realize that there is no evil in this room. Also, not long ago, you were held in the hands of a Succubus Lord, and you didn’t seem to have the spirit you have now..."

"The situation was different then, Miss Tijana had just trapped a Demon Lord, and her hands were filled with holy power..." The bluish blade of the Sword of Zariel flickered slightly and she paused for a moment, then spoke apologetically, "It turns out that she really is of a good alignment... Miss Isabella, I owe you a sincere apology, it seems I was indeed mistaken..."

"It’s okay, as long as the misunderstanding is resolved." Little Isabella smiled somewhat forcedly, "I’ll go get you two chairs..."

"Observe, judge, and then act." Once Little Isabella returned, Lancelot placed the two holy swords upright, as if they were two seated companions, "Don’t get the order wrong."

"How do these swords talk?" Scholar was still somewhat unresponsive, "Did they awaken suddenly during an adventure?"

"Starlight Strike was always a conscious sword, it just wanted to observe us first, so it was playing mute," Lancelot glared at the beautiful dagger, "As for the Sword of Zariel, her method is a bit simpler—she directly pulled us into a very important memory of hers, where there was a town attacked by Yenogu, to see how we would react."

"What? Yenogu? Are you talking about the Lord of the 422nd level of the Abyss? Wait... Sword of Zariel? Could it be the sword borne by the current Archduke Zariel?"

"When I was separated from her, she was a beautiful Celestial servant," the Sword of Zariel answered gloomily.

Kalalin’s expression seemed to be suffocating in a sea of information, while Little Isabella by his side looked completely clueless—she just thought it was impressive that swords could talk. As for the names mentioned by Lancelot and Kalalin, though they sounded somewhat familiar, the young girl really had no concept of them.

"Ah, well, let me start then." Lancelot gulped down a big sip of beer, then heaved a satisfying sigh, "Huh... where to begin? The road to Volcano Fortress started rather smoothly, but it wasn’t long before we encountered a multitude of traps..."

Lancelot spent about an hour describing their adventurous journey, with the Elf Priest occasionally providing additional details. Kalalin, Little Isabella, and the Sword of Zariel listened intently, while Starlight Strike requested a mug of barley wine after Lancelot finished his second—simply by being inserted into a mug filled with the brew, visibly absorbing the liquid into its blade.

"It tastes much better than the blood of Fiends, Giants, and Ogres," the Holy Sword commented.

Lancelot also explained Tijana’s true profession—the Succubus Lord had agreed for him to share this with the other companions since Alamir, Bruto, and the Sword of Zariel were witnesses, and she apparently wasn’t planning on killing anyone to keep it secret. However, Lancelot still asked his companions to swear to keep the secret, as after all, being a Holy Warrior in this realm wasn’t exactly a reputable occupation.

The Sword of Zariel fell almost completely silent, distinguishable from a decorative weapon only when directly addressed—admittedly, she was indeed very beautiful, even to an ornate extent. Had Lancelot not personally thrust this treasured sword into a Barlow Flame Demon, he wouldn’t have believed it was such a powerful Holy Relic.

That said, it wasn’t hard to understand the Sword of Zariel’s silence; sitting beside her, Lancelot could almost hear her worldview shattering. A Vampire with good alignment, a Holy Warrior who was a Demon Lord, and a group of mercenaries who seemed sane yet called the Abyss home. If the rumors about the current Archduke Aphnas were half true, since its creation, the Sword of Zariel had been wielded by an Angel dreaming of racial cleansing in the Abyss, and for her, probably the easier (and more tempting) option would be to kill every creature in the room.

But her essence, after all, was that of a weapon aligned with good, and knowing it could wrongly harm the innocent, she naturally wouldn’t act rashly.

"...in the end, it still came down to you to sort everything out," said Kalalin, shaking his head after hearing Lancelot’s story, "If I had been there, I probably wouldn’t have made it past the Self-destructive Explosion."

"If you had been there, you would have definitely reminded us to watch out for the Barlow Flame Demon and their tricky moves," Lancelot shook his head, "and in the end, it was still Tijana who had to clean up the mess. I couldn’t think of any way to turn the tables afterward..."

"Different as it may be, you guys actually killed a Barlow Flame Demon, which is a remarkable achievement," Kalalin remarked cheerfully, "Even if you had died right there, the Lord of the Dead would approve of you with a nod."

"Ah, how could that be possible?" Starlight Strike interjected with a puzzled tone, "Yago isn’t that kind of benevolent person..."

"Yago? Who’s that?" the Sword of Zariel unexpectedly spoke up, "Isn’t the Lord of the Dead Milko?"

"Ha, this is getting interesting!" Kalalin excitedly rubbed his hands together, "Esteemed Starlight Strike, what can you share with us about the ancient Grim Reaper, Yago?"

"Seems like the role of Grim Reaper has changed hands," bubbles emerged from the bottom of the mug holding the Aira Celestials’ holy relic, and the water level dropped by about half a finger, "Yago, the Lord of the End of All Things, the Scribe of Doomsday. It’s said he has a face that is a cross between a human and a praying mantis, with lifeless yellow eyes in his eye sockets, and his nose and ears almost indistinguishable from the rest of his skull. Most of his form is hidden behind a lightless cloak, revealing only the dry, mummy-like, tightly stretched grey skin. According to the legend, the Night Lady Shael once visited this King of the Dead and returned complaining that conversations with Yago were always monotonous, boring, and overly formal. Everyone knows that the Lord of the End of All Things is not evil, nor malevolent, just a quiet, indifferent mover, whose quill pen records the deaths of all things in complicated and incomprehensible text."