The Paladin in the Abyss-Chapter 751 - 681: Harvest

Although Lancelot was very confident, without Divine Power’s assistance, Cranvo was still an extremely fearsome adversary. Thanks to the enhancement of the flesh by Foundation Establishment and an outstanding training partner like the Succubus Lord, Lancelot had an advantage in agility and speed. Yet, Cranvo’s strength was so exaggerated that he resembled an adult Giant Dragon in human form, making Lancelot suspect whether the other party was secretly using Divine Power to cheat.

Of course, he still gave the former human warrior, Cranvo, enough trouble, forcing him to reveal at least seventy percent of his strength—in a spar that was not a fight to the death, this already counted as going all out. Lancelot’s Sword Blade touched the opponent’s body more than once; even though it left no scars, the deity very honestly lowered the tip of his sword, signaling that he had lost that round.

Any experienced warrior could sense the character of their opponent from their swordsmanship, and as the fight progressed, they grew to appreciate each other more—they had learned of each other’s deeds through different means, and when the sparring finally ceased, they both felt as if they were old friends who had known each other for years.

"You fight well," Cranvo said breathlessly, sitting on a high-backed chair he had just conjured, "It’s been a long time since I’ve had such a match, truly nostalgic..."

"You flatter me," Lancelot responded, sitting directly on his Helmet as if it were a stool and massaging his wrist that had been struck several times by the opponent’s heavy sword, "It’s hard to believe I was just exchanging blows with a deity so high above... I guess you haven’t neglected your training since becoming a god?"

"You might not believe it if I told you..."

Cranvo was about to say more, but the expression on his face suddenly changed, and in the next instant, Lancelot found himself back in the hall from before. The man who had just seemed so familiar was once again wearing a silver mask, transforming back into the King of the Dead as a powerful presence approached rapidly.

Lancelot turned his head and saw a beautiful and majestic Goddess descending upon the place. The newcomer was a human female with soft, long black hair, skin that was fair and luminous. She was dressed in a deep blue silk gown with a short, dark cape draped over her shoulders, like the color of night, her waist encircled by a jeweled mesh belt, and her eyes shimmered with dangerous purple lightning.

"Mysterious Lady!" Kalalin’s expression could truly be described as shocked, bowing with a deference Lancelot had never before seen to the arrival, "What an honor..."

"Hmm? Hello..." The arrival seemed not to have anticipated such a reception in the Crystal Tower, but She immediately saw through the true nature of the greeter, "A Scholar of the Dark Cult? Be careful, you’re dabbling in very dangerous things..."

"Goddess of Magic Mistrala." Cranvo addressed Her with a very formal tone, "What brings you here?"

"Shuni. She said one of Her Priests had come to you and prayed with a will that nearly deafened Her, saying you were about to judge an innocent Undead." The Goddess formerly known as Midnight surveyed the area, her gaze briefly resting on Alamir and the young Isa, "What’s happening today? Why is there a group of the living in your hall?"

The King of the Dead had already made his judgment, deeming the innocent Vampire not guilty, yet still, he had stripped her of the ability to create new Undead...

"They came to my realm through a Portal of the Abyss, seeking a Soul that could not be revived." The god seated on the throne, wearing a mask, shrugged, "Since it is Lady Fire’s request, why didn’t She come in person?"

"Perhaps because death has parted too many lovers, or perhaps She dislikes the oppressive atmosphere here? Or maybe She harbors some fantasy, wishing to reconcile two people who were once in love?" The Goddess of Magic strode past Lancelot, staring directly at the silver mask on the throne, "Sometimes I even wonder if that mask has already merged with your face, that if you took off the mask, beneath would be the same face?"

"We’ve discussed this topic before," Cranvo shifted imperceptibly.

"Cranvo, this is not what I wanted at all! I never asked for..."

"But you already are, as are we all," the Grim Reaper interjected coldly. "I am here to offer some aid to these mortals—they are in search of the missing soul of a Dwarven Artisan."

"Good luck to them... wait, the dead are your domain, aren’t they? You should be able to locate that soul right away," the Goddess of Magic furrowed her brow. "Or, have you already passed judgment on that soul... just like you did with Anton?"

"First, I merely had Anton get in line..." fгeewёbnoѵel.cσm

"Is there a difference? When I asked for him, you refused to give him back to me!"

"Because those are the rules, otherwise we’d become just like that madman," the King of the Dead replied, unmoved. "Second, that soul never reached the Domain of the Vague; it went missing while passing through the Fallen Shadow Netherworld."

"Went missing in the Fallen Shadow Netherworld?" Mistrala’s expression turned very serious, "Why tell me this? Do you think Shael is behind it?"

"No," Cranvo shook his head, "My intuition tells me that our former companion is a more likely suspect."

"Shrek?!" the Goddess of Magic exclaimed in surprise. "Why would you think that? What exactly is going on?"

The King of the Dead did not speak, simply gazing intently at his former lover. Lancelot realized that the two deities were likely communicating in some silent, more efficient manner.

"So that’s how it is..." After a moment, the black-haired goddess spoke again, "Shrek indeed is the type to get mixed up with demons, which is a very ominous sign."

"Therefore, we must investigate all of this," the King of the Dead nodded. "To see what kind of conspiracy he is plotting."

"...Yes," the Goddess of Magic took a deep breath and then voiced her agreement. She turned her head, looking at the Scholar who had been respectfully lowering his head since a while ago, and spoke to him, "Kalalin Master, please stand before me."

Kalalin walked over somewhat flustered, and the Goddess of Magic raised a palm toward him, on which appeared a spiderweb-like, exceptionally mysterious pattern that Lancelot couldn’t understand at all.

"Tell me, what spell is this?" the goddess asked in a gentle tone, her eyes filled with encouragement.

"This is..." Kalalin’s expression shifted slowly from confusion to fascination. After a long while, he cautiously responded as a child being called upon to answer a teacher’s question, "A 0-circle Sculpting Energy series of magic, Light Spell? Its essence is so complex?"

"Correct," the Goddess of Magic’s face broke into a satisfied smile. A small silvery flame flickered from the tip of her finger and gently touched the Scholar’s forehead, "Accept this gift, you will learn much more in the future..."