The Paladin in the Abyss-Chapter 352 - 366: Professional
Chapter 352 -366: Professional
The battle seemed to be only halfway through, but after the little Vampire threw that game-changing Flash Bomb, everything ended as swiftly as Belmanis’s blown-apart head.
Lancelot moved too fast for anyone to clearly see his actions. Everyone just felt that after the flash, the Zoels, who were still stubbornly resisting, suddenly lost most of their combat strength, and that imposing, aloof Matriarch had been chopped into a lump of flesh.
However, they were no longer surprised by Lancelot’s terrifying combat prowess. What was a Human Knight usually like? When traveling in the Great Abyss, if ten Flomos attacked, at least five would end up dead under his sword. This time, though, he had been holding back since the start of the fight, leading everyone to guess he was saving up for a big move.
Of course, Lancelot did indeed take down the most threatening enemy by the end, but the real game-changer was little Isha, who was immune to negative energy attacks and countered the Zoel Matriarch’s area attacks in time. Lancelot flicked the fresh blood off his Sword Blade, turning his head to meet the girl’s expectant eyes.
“Well done,” Lancelot winked at her and gave her a thumbs up, “Crucial!”
“Hey! Didn’t see that coming, did ya? You guys had this planned out all along!” Bruto also came over to the girl’s side, slapping the Vampire’s back with the Dwarf’s characteristic enthusiasm, “Beautifully done!”
...
Isha’s vision became hazy from the slapping, and the others gathered around too, expressing their gratitude and congratulations to the typically unobtrusive team member, making the girl’s face turn bright red. Yet she still tried to maintain her manners and modesty, attributing the credit to Lancelot’s guidance, Koula’s skills, and the opportunity created by everyone’s hard fight.
The expression of fatigue quickly spread across the girl’s face. After expressing her gratitude, she ‘poofed’ into a small bat and dove into Lancelot’s Dimensional Bag to rest.
Frankly speaking, it wasn’t easy for the Vampire to have persevered until now. She spent the entire day helping set up traps. Although direct sunlight didn’t penetrate the room, it still weakened the girl considerably. Yet, she insisted on working, resting for only two hours in the broken crate around noon. Now that the battle had ended, the exhaustion from the whole day overwhelmed her, and the girl couldn’t hold on any longer.
It was only then that everyone had time to take out their healing potions and drink up. Alamir began chanting the Healing Divine Art that required a long preparation time, while the Succubus Paladin used her Holy Healing abilities to dispel the poison effects from her comrades. Kamoen stood with a complex expression, his gaze lingering on the bodies of his kin.
“How does it feel?” Acheron approached, “Not everyone gets the chance to truly taste revenge…”
“If they really went through with it, they’d find it’s not as sweet as they imagined,” Kamoen shook his bald head, “Maybe I should be happy that it’s all finally over, but I just feel… empty. All this hatred, paranoia, ambition; they were just shackles the Demon Queen placed on our race; utterly meaningless.”
“I understand your feelings,” Elothysia approached, her broadsword’s golden flames slowly dying out, “I have pondered much about the essence of evil. Maybe when you have time, we could talk about it.”
“Maybe,” Kamoen glanced again at the enemy whose head he had severed, “When I feel the need to.”
Just at that moment, a muffled bell sound came from the copper pipe near the cage. Kalalin, curious, approached and discovered that the end of the pipe was covered with a lid bearing a line of small text: ‘Lift the cover when the bell rings’.
Scholar looked back at Lancelot, and after receiving a nod of affirmation, reached out and lifted the cover from the copper pipe.
“Hello? Can you hear me?” A voice came through the copper pipe, vaguely recognizable as that of the dog-headed innkeeper, “Uh… is Sir Lancelot still there?”
“I’m here,” Lancelot responded, his voice directed precisely into the copper pipe, “What’s the matter?”
“Oh! Good evening, Sir, I’m so pleased to hear your voice,” the dog-headed innkeeper’s overly exaggerated tone of surprise was so blatant that it was easy to identify the insincerity, “It seems that something… unpleasant has happened on your end, do you need our help with the cleanup? Our prices are very reasonable, just ten gold coins per corpse, and if it’s the edible type, I mean the kind with flesh on the bones, then it’s all free…”
The dog-headed man’s words floated clearly from the voice transmission device, making the listeners exchange looks. A chain inn in the Abyss with such professional services? Who would have thought?
“No need,” Lancelot shook his head, “It’s not a big problem, we can handle it ourselves.”
After all, these were Kalalin’s kin; how best to deal with them should still respect the opinions of the parties concerned. Moreover, the bodies themselves could reveal a lot of secrets, so it was wiser to be cautious.
Most importantly, they hadn’t looted the spoils of war yet; how could they just let them be taken away?
Without explicit instructions from him, everyone began to act, piling together Mithril scimitars and longswords, Mithril helmets and armor, potions and amulets with unclear effects, useful or not.
Bruto was naturally concerned about the enemy’s purses filled with gold coins and gemstones. Zoel were one of the wealthiest races in the entire material plane, occupying vast resource-rich underground worlds, and yearning equally for wealth and power, they were among the few races to use slaves for trade good production, with some skillful Gray Dwarves and Gnomes even receiving decent treatment (relative to other slaves).
But these Dark Elves had protected their purses well, even in death. The Dwarf tried to pull a small pouch from his fallen opponent’s body, but several sharp blades suddenly shot out from the corpse’s belt, and if the Dwarf’s reaction hadn’t been fast enough, he would likely have lost several fingers.
“Damn it!” Bruto shouted angrily, his hands were fine, but a small chunk of his beard had been shaved off, “These damned Elves!”
“Don’t force it, watch me,” Koula said with a smile as she ran over. She carefully inspected the area and with a light slash on a specific part of the belt with her dagger, a barrage of blades, crossbow bolts, and saws scattered onto the ground, with dark green liquid on them, most likely poison.
“By Moradin…” The Dwarf swallowed hard, “Still gotta leave it to the professionals.”
Lancelot was clutching a pouch he had taken from the only intact portion of the Matriarch’s body. To his surprise, he found it was a Dimensional Bag, and gently probed inside with his Divine Sense to check its contents.
“Crap!” Without little Esha around, Lancelot cursed without regard for his image, “How can they be so poor!”
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