The Paladin in the Abyss-Chapter 555 - 579 The Arrogant Prisoner
Chapter 555: Chapter 579: The Arrogant Prisoner Chapter 555: Chapter 579: The Arrogant Prisoner “What?” The elf was baffled by the dwarf’s question, but he suddenly realized, “Are you looking for some Holy Water? We still have some in stock…”
“Yes, but I thought you’d prefer the bathing option,” Bruto shrugged. “Remember the metal we encountered in the Great Abyss? After returning from Androlina, I had my father specifically inquire about it, using Holy Water can effectively neutralize this metal. Just a sprinkle, and its properties will degrade significantly, barely stronger than wood.”
“Then let’s get to work right away.”
Lancelot clapped his hands, indicating his approval of Bruto’s plan. Together, they first moved the blood trough from beneath the Titan Giant, then fetched some blankets from other rooms of the fortress to pad the ground, and finally, Alamir, carrying a small bucket, poured his sacred bathwater over each iron ring.
Originally, after the Holy Water was poured, someone had to saw through the softened Abyssal Metal, but the Titan Giant’s own weight completed this task. As Alamir reached halfway, the iron rings began to crack, eventually making a series of sounds like snapping bamboo sticks, and the heavy Titan crashed to the ground.
Even free from the confines of the torture device, the prisoner’s body still exhibited a disgusting deformity. Seeing that the other party did not regain consciousness, Alamir released a simple Healing Divine Art, then opened a bottle of healing potion and poured it into the slightly agape mouth of the Titan Giant.
“This one’s chickpea-flavor,” explained the Elf Priest to his companions. “It’s a shame to throw it away, and conscious people can’t stand its taste, now’s the perfect time to use it.”
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Under the effects of the Divine Art and potion, Gorgiad finally slowly opened his eyes, while in Lancelot’s Spirit Perception, a living storm gathered before him at a visibly rapid pace.
“Who… is there…” the Titan Giant spoke, his voice loud by human standards but still showing his weakness, “what do you… want to do…”
“We are a group of mercenaries, tasked to rescue Gorgiad, the brother of Solheim, the God of Frost Giants.” Lancelot began but then realized he was not speaking the same language as the other. However, there seemed to be no barrier in understanding each other, “You are Gorgiad, aren’t you?”
“Yes… I am…” the Titan Giant tried to turn his head towards Lancelot, but this simple motion filled his face with agony, “Who sent… you? Where am I?”
“You’re still in the fortress specifically built to imprison you in Kostcheqi. Don’t worry, we succeeded, all the guards have been taken down, you are now free. As for who sent us… the God of Winter, Olul, you’re not unfamiliar with that lady, right?” Lancelot looked sympathetically at the other’s body, “It looks like the Prince of Wrath took out his anger on you… How are you feeling now?”
“In pain…” Gorgiad murmured, “but it’s… subsiding…”
“Good, my Elf Priest friend just released a Healing Divine Art on you along with a healing potion,” Lancelot explained. “But your body is too large, he can’t repair it to that extent.”
“No need…”
The Titan, with difficulty, moved its twisted, deformed arms, taking some time to relearn how to control its fingers. Then, the tips of its fingers lit up with a golden glow, and it wrote a few special symbols on the stone floor. Lancelot recognized that the symbols were somewhat similar to the Dwarf language, but he could barely understand it and did not recognize a single word.
Without the lengthy prayers during Alamir’s spellcasting, nor the gestures made by Kalalin during his, it was merely through a few letters written on the stone that the Demi-god summoned the power of magic. The moment he finished writing, the letters began to brighten sharply, emitting a golden light that enveloped the entire body of the Titan and forced everyone to look away.
When the light dissipated, a completely normal Titan stood before the group. It had short brown hair, starkly defined facial features as if carved with a knife and chisel, and a rigid look; its muscles were flawlessly defined, with some parts exaggeratedly huge, so much so that even the strongest Barlow Flame Demon would drool with envy.
Lancelot noted that Gorgiad’s hair color was different from that of the Frost Giants, and he did not have an inch of beard on his chin. Furthermore, his skin color was silvery-white, whereas most Frost Giants ranged from gray-white to ice-blue, affirming the claim that Giants and their worshipped deities were not of the same kind.
The Demi-god sat up, shook his head, and looked at his rescuers. His expression shifted between surprise, disgust, and puzzlement, before he finally spoke in a voice as loud as thunder,
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“Dwarves, Elves, humans… What is happening? Why are you here?”
“How did you forget so quickly?” Bruto asked, puzzled, “We just told you, we’re here to rescue you.”
“Impossible!” The Demi-god’s response was intense, “How could you lower races possibly breach the fortress guarded by Giants?”
“Hey! Who are you calling a lower race!” The Dwarf’s temper flared immediately, and he hoisted his hammer onto his shoulder, looking up at the Titan, “Maybe we shouldn’t have come at all, just left you in that damned juicer!”
“For centuries, thousands of Frost Giants have died attempting to save you, but before we took action, their sacrifices made no progress.” Lancelot’s voice also grew colder, “It was Olul who sent us on this rescue mission, and the Frost Giants from Jotunheim are waiting for your leadership to attack Kostcheqi’s stronghold.”
“Of course, that is my born right and duty, but Olul sending you to rescue me? Impossible, absolutely impossible!” The Titan shook its head, which was as big as a wooden crate, “She’s more likely to have sent you to kill me! Where’s Kostcheqi then? Why didn’t he come to stop you?”
“He has been captured by Zariel, reportedly imprisoned in a deep pit by Aphnas,” Lancelot shrugged, “It really was a priest of Olul who sent us, a female Frost Giant priest named Gertie Oriel Sdottir. She should be around this fortress somewhere right now, if you don’t believe me, you can ask her yourself later.”
“A female Frost Giant priest?” Gorgiad furrowed his brow as if suddenly remembering something, then abruptly stood up, banging his head heavily against the basement ceiling, but seemingly unbothered by it, “Where is she? I command you, take me to her immediately!”
“Believe us now that we are the ones who rescued you?” Lancelot couldn’t help but roll his eyes, “You have no right to command me, but I will take you. It’s the last part of the deal. By the way, is that bucket of fresh blood still of any use to you? The Prince of Wrath must have twisted you into a human towel just for all that precious blood…”
