The Paladin in the Abyss-Chapter 660 - 684: A Higher Price
Chapter 660: Chapter 684: A Higher Price
Lancelot intercepted the enemy’s attack with the guard of his sword, and as he twisted his wrist, the blade was pressured sideways. Under the leverage, his opponent took on several times the force Lancelot had applied to the weapon, forcing the large cleaver’s tip to droop toward the ground.
Before the Demon infantry could make their next move, the Human Knight twisted his wrist again. The guard, which had been perpendicular to the enemy’s weapon, rotated ninety degrees, and the blade followed in an upper slash, slicing through the purple fingers and elbow, and at a certain angle, it turned from a slice to a thrust, finally embedding itself in the opponent’s neck.
With a forceful retraction, the Demon’s head spun into the air, looking like a top flung away. The decapitated body fell straight down, and behind it, there were no more figures.
Lancelot glanced in that direction, then immediately turned to assist his other companions. A Beard Demon was furiously hacking at Bruto’s shield, while the latter was defending and regulating his breathing. Once he caught his breath, a counterattack would be imminent.
Ignoring any potential protest from the Dwarf, Lancelot’s Longsword stabbed out like lightning, jabbing into the Beard Demon’s waist. The stab was not deep, but the sharp tip severed the enemy’s abdominal oblique muscle on one side, completely disabling the Demon’s fighting capacity. Meanwhile, an iron mace, coming from nowhere, swept across its ankles, flipping the Demon to the ground and exposing its vulnerable head to the Dwarf’s mercy.
“Hey!” Bruto indeed raised a loud protest, but that didn’t stop him from cracking the great coconut at his feet, “I could have handled it myself!”
“Go help the others!”
Lancelot, without looking back, threw out the words and flashed behind another Beard Demon who was facing off with Glory. The cold sword light flared, and the Beard Demon was shocked to find its weapon and the arm holding it falling of their own accord.
On the matter of how to break through enemy lines, Lancelot had a wealth of experience, and what to do after creating a breakthrough was something he was quite familiar with. Although the Demons had already clinched the fruit of victory, the battle was not over. What Lancelot could do now was to make the enemy pay as high a price as possible for their victory.
Under his relentless left and right charges, the breach in the Demon lines quickly widened, soon reaching an extent that could no longer be sealed. Several squads burst through the gap and attacked the enemy from behind. If anyone wanted to rack up battlefield achievements, this was the best opportunity, given that stabbing an opponent in the back was much easier. But these Beard Demons were not enough to satisfy him. Lancelot wanted more.
“Alamir!”
“I’m here!” An Elf’s response immediately came from not far behind, full of breath, evidently Shuni’s Priest had taken good care of herself in battle, “What’s up?”
“You command the squad, just like last time.”
“Er, what are you going to do again…”
Lancelot did not immediately answer, because he was muttering mysterious spells, and his hands were making seemingly meaningless gestures in the air.
A red flash of light crossed the air, and at the same time, a pungent smell of sulfur arose. A disproportionately large black warhorse appeared in front of Lancelot, with black skin, bulging muscles, and, signifying that it was no ordinary creature, flames around its neck like a mane.
Unlike their previous encounters, the Demon horse bore no hostility towards Lancelot who had summoned it. In fact, realizing it was on a battlefield, it showed clear signs of excitement.
“It’s been a while, this time I didn’t forget to call you.”
Lancelot patted the Nightmare’s neck, and it responded with a pleased neigh, obediently crouching down to allow the Human Knight to easily mount its back.
“I’m going hunting.”
Lancelot explained to Alamir, who was still waiting for his answer, then squeezed the horse’s sides with his feet and took off like an arrow shot from a bow. A bunch of stubborn, death-defying Demon infantry? There was no need to waste time on them, especially when there were far more valuable targets – those Spellcasters who had broken away from their group early and were heading back to the Volcano Fortress.
The Nightmare danced wildly, its flaming hooves streaking across the cracked earth of the Plains of the Abyss like a meteor, the fierce wind slapping Lancelot’s face as it came toward him. This feeling was so familiar that he momentarily lost his bearings, but the bouncing flames ahead reminded him this was a battlefield on the lower planes.
The mount beneath him was faster than any horse Lancelot had ever ridden, and he himself was stronger than he had ever been. The Human Knight’s figure passed like a whirlwind beside three double-winged Demonic Spellcasters, and the next second, three plumes of blood sprayed into the sky. No one saw how he did it, and of course, he had no duty to explain. Lancelot had already locked onto the next group of targets, charging full speed ahead.
As he swept by his prey, a ring of flowing light flashed beside him, vaguely resembling an azure lotus. But that lasted only a very short time; almost no one noticed it, except for three souls no longer bounded by flesh, who floated confused in midair, gazing at the rapidly receding figure of the Human Knight who had killed them.
Not all Spellcasters were defenseless, but around Lancelot, there seemed to be a special force field where any magical effect would dissipate upon nearing him. The few Beard Demon guards could do nothing about it.
The situation was extremely chaotic at the moment. In the middle of the battlefield, the last Demon Refinement and Barlow Flame Demon had joined the fray. Next to them, the Demon army was retreating as fast as possible, all the while struggling to keep their formation from being scattered by the endless tide of Demons. The mercenaries on the left flank had completely broken away from the main formation, with the remaining Demons encircled but still fighting desperately—they knew they had no chance of survival. Death was a release they dared not hope for compared to the punishment they would face upon being reborn in Barto Hell. On the right flank, the situation was the opposite; the former Lord of the Volcano Fortress was left with only a few subordinates, looking like a lion surrounded by hyenas, but his rage fueled an intense blaze within him, granting extra strength to the Barlow Flame Demon. This was a gift from the Abyss itself; as long as the rage burned, he would not fall.
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Thus, almost no one noticed the Nightmare Knight sweeping across the horizon, nor saw how he reaped the lives of one Demon Spellcaster after another like the Grim Reaper.
Except for the Demon Refinement General standing on the walls of the Volcano Fortress, overlooking the battlefield.
