The Paladin in the Abyss-Chapter 408 - 422: Reunion

Chapter 408: Chapter 422: Reunion

After him, more people regained consciousness from dizziness. Thankfully, most of the Elves are lightweight; otherwise, those at the bottom might have really been in trouble.

All immediately took notice of the intense battle unfolding around them. Many instantly grabbed their weapons and ran outside, looking quite familiar with the place, as after all, they were all members of the Protectors, and many “from previous lives” might have been stationed at this fortress.

“Are you the reinforcements here to help? That’s great!” an excited voice came from outside, and a little Aira child ran in, but his face soon showed a perplexed expression, “You… you are…”

“Wow! Lemon! It’s so great to see you again!” Migu, who had been lying on the head of the Radiant Cloud Angel, suddenly flew out and tackled his friend to the ground, “I thought I would never see you guys again…”

“Migu?” the tackled Aira child said, surprised, but immediately recognizing the other, his face lit up with a big smile, “What are you doing here? Everyone said you were captured by the Demons… Lemon knows! You were actually playing hide and seek, right? Wow, Migu, you’re so clever, you tricked everyone…”

“No, I really was captured by the Demons before,” Migu pulled Lemon up from the ground, turned around, and pointed at Lancelot, “This uncle saved me!”

...

All eyes immediately focused on Lancelot, making him uncomfortably stroke his chin. Hmm, out here in the wind and rain, he hadn’t even managed to shave his beard… No! These little rascals, their ages must be several hundred times his! Why does it feel like he was taken advantage of?

“Not only me, this uncle saved a lot of people!” Migu said excitedly, tugging at his friend’s arm, “These are all the people he brought back! Look, who is that?”

“That… could it be…” Aira child’s eyes looked as if a sun had risen, grinning at the approaching Quirion waving, “It’s Lemon, remember me? I’m…”

“Flower Cake Grandpa!”

“Hahaha!!!!!”

A burst of laughter erupted among the crowd, and the old Elf stomped his foot furiously, “Stop laughing, go help! Don’t block the Teleportation Formation, be careful or the newcomers might land on top of you!”

————–

At the watchtower, Archers were desperately shooting arrows into the horde of demons below, their fingers cut and bleeding from the bowstrings, the pain inevitably slowing their pace. Suddenly, dozens of unfamiliar Elves joined them, helping to shoot arrows below.

“Did the reinforcements arrive?” the aid lifted the spirits of the defending Elves, but they soon became puzzled, “You… where are you from? Melanthan? Or the gifts from Eidoton?”

For humans, encountering reinforcements on a battlefield would hardly prompt a concern about familiarity, but most of the archers on the tower were Elves, whose long lifespans gave them a completely different way of thinking. The protectors of Androlina were all very close-knit, and the idea that the reinforcements were a group of completely unknown kin was utterly astounding to them.

“Neither.” Someone responded with a laugh, “We are from the past!”

No further questions followed; the guards continued their chores. The fierce battle on the wall below raged on, with their own side at a clear disadvantage, leaving them no room to decipher the meaning behind that strange response.

But their attention was quickly drawn again. The overwhelming strength of these reinforcements, who had appeared out of nowhere, was astounding. Each of them could easily draw their heavy longbows taut as a full moon, and the arrows they released were as fierce as javelins. Each time the bowstrings vibrated, a high-pitched scream would echo from below.

Among the guards here, an Elf suddenly widened his eyes, gazing at a familiar figure among the reinforcements, and exclaimed in disbelief:

“Dad?”

———————

Lancelot followed behind Acheron, quickly running down a staircase with Bruto, Alamir, and a skeleton head at his side.

Kalalin, barely a spellcaster, was better suited for the open view of a high tower; little Isha had already returned to Lancelot’s Dimensional Bag—it was daytime after all, and she, being a Vampire, couldn’t be much help in such an environment; Koula hadn’t come along either, having gone to the medical team. Large-scale wars were not suitable for Halflings to directly participate in, but her nimble hands and the potions in her bag would be very helpful in treating the injured.

Apart from his companions, more than twenty warriors of various races had also joined him, all heading towards a fiercely contested section of the wall. After running through several stairways and corridors, Acheron stopped in a place that seemed to lead nowhere, turned a lamp on the wall clockwise half a rotation, and the stone wall in front of them thunderously split apart.

This chapt𝒆r is updated by frёewebηovel.cѳm.

The previously distant sounds of battle instantly became clear, and they discovered the wall they were aiming for had been reached. In front of them, the fight for control over the wall seemed to have ended, with the Demons controlling most of the area, and only a few well-equipped Knights were still holding out desperately.

Without a word, Lancelot leaped through an opening on the wall. There was still a distance of more than ten feet to the ground, but such a height was nearly negligible for him. He landed with a Drop Slash, splitting an Aberrant Demon cleanly in half, then swung his Great Sword like a windmill, scattering the nearby Demons—some were blown away, while the unlucky ones were shredded to pieces.

In just a few breaths, Lancelot had cleared a large space around him. The others followed suit and jumped down, immediately joining the fight: some cleared other Demons on the wall, others dealt with those trying to jump over from the outside.

Having helped his companions handle their ‘landing’, Lancelot brandishing Glacier, advanced towards the few Knights still fighting. The arrival of reinforcements greatly lifted their spirits, making their movements much more brisk. The Demons found themselves caught in a pincer attack, and in just a short time, both groups successfully united.

“Sir Lancelot! It’s a pleasure to see you!”

A Knight who had held out until now greeted him. Lancelot recognized him as Emanu, an elderly man close to eighty, whom he had previously met at a dinner party in Pascaler.

“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Sir Emanu, you look much more imposing in armor,” Lancelot nodded to him. “It’s unfortunate that we couldn’t obtain the Demons’ battle plans, but I’ve brought reinforcements…”

Lancelot stopped speaking, for he noticed that the old man was staring behind him with a very strange look. Turning around, Lancelot saw that the old Knight’s gaze was fixed on Talasher Morningstar, an old subordinate of Acheron, who had been captured thirty years ago while trying to infiltrate Gaomendikolia.

“Long time no see, old Emanu,” Talasher smiled and nodded at the old knight. “It’s great to see you still alive and kicking. We can catch up later, right now, we need to drive these demon brats back!”