The Paladin in the Abyss-Chapter 789 - 800 Missionary

After the dust had settled, the companions regrouped to discuss the recent battle.

"Did you guys feel that the undead creatures here seem especially strong?" Bruto leaned against a pillar, speaking breathlessly, "A regular skeleton’s attack is like a little squirrel throwing pine cones at me, but just now, one of them hit my shield with a Bone Hammer, numbing half my body. I’m afraid their strength almost matches that of a Berserk Demon..."

"Indeed, that’s the case," Alamir agreed as he bandaged Kalalin, "As a Priest of the Domain of Life, I can sense a very strong negative energy emanating from them. Even when I used my Divine Power earlier, the effect seemed greatly diminished."

"There was something off about that Fireball Technique as well," Kalalin remarked, his face covered in soot. Alamir’s Divine Arts could restore his life, but not his scorched skin, "In the name of the Goddess of Magic, I’m certain those Burning Skulls had increased their Circle Rank by at least two. Thankfully they don’t know any spells like the Death Cloud Spell or Swarm of Plagues, otherwise, you’d be using Resurrection Art on me right now..."

"It’s because this is a Temple of the Lord of the Dead," Jing suddenly spoke, "I can feel it, there’s still a remnant of Divine Power from the Domain of Death here, enhancing all the undead... including myself."

"I see..." Lancelot looked at Jing with a somewhat odd expression, "Speaking of which, are you now... an elect of the Grim Reaper?"

"I don’t know," the girl pouted, "But I did gain quite a bit of knowledge about the Domain of Death in my head..."

"I’m familiar with that situation," Lancelot chuckled, "That knowledge must have been a great help in combat, right?"

"Yeah, I found myself immediately able to recognize the types of undead and even recall their weaknesses... There’s other stuff too, about Cranvo’s doctrines, holy days, and the rituals and duties a junior Grim Reaper must master, including the eradication of malevolent undead. It’s a really strange feeling, like... like... like a mouse forced to work for a cat... You understand what I mean, right, brother?"

"I think I get it," Lancelot nodded with a barely contained smile, "In a way, having a cat backing you up means you can strut around in front of the other mice... You said your mind is filled with a lot of knowledge about the Domain of Death? So, what can you tell us about Milko?"

"Milko..." Jing showed a contemplative expression, "I only know that many of Milko’s former priests joined the church of Cranvo..."

"I have heard something about that," the Elf Priest, a scholar of divinity, spoke up, "When Shrek replaced Milko, Milko’s priests accepted the change calmly. They say it’s merely a change of names for the deity, drawing a purple halo around the original skull crest. The same happened when Shrek was replaced by Cranvo. Perhaps because there wasn’t much essential difference between the three Lords of the Dead, and they all appointed Yago as their Steward and assistant to help fulfill their duties..."

"No, no, there’s a big difference!" Jing immediately objected, "Milko emphasized the terror of death, instructing mortals to fear it, and was strongly opposed to resurrection magics, forbidding His priests from using them; whereas Cranvo emphasizes the fairness of death, instructing mortals to view death as a part of life, signifying the end of the old and the beginning of the new, not as a punishment. Cranvo does not oppose resurrection magics, and also forbids His church members from spreading death and destruction, instead requiring them to help people die with dignity when their time inevitably comes..."

"You’ve put it so well!" Alamir couldn’t help but clap his hands, "You sound just like a qualified missionary already. If I hadn’t already found my own deity, I definitely would have been persuaded by you..."

"Uh, really?" The little vampire’s expression was somewhat strained, "I just... know... and I also agree with these views..."

"It is precisely because you agree that He has chosen you," the elf priest revealed a mysterious smile, "That is how the gods select their spokespersons, and it’s not as mysterious as people make it out to be."

"What about Shrek then?" asked Lancelot, with some curiosity, "How does He view death?"

"The Prince of Lies’ creed is that one can stop at nothing for power and status, shallowly treating death as a mere tool for fulfilling ambitions rather than as a necessary, meaningful, and solemn affair of great import within the multiverse," the little vampire showed a disgusted face, "Compared to Him, Milko is as good as a newborn baby, whose only possible misdeed is pooping in the crib."

"What a curious simile, did Cranvo feed you that one?"

"Uh..." Little Isha’s face turned red in an instant, "... I suppose he did."

"It must be so." Lancelot shrugged his shoulders, "So, this is a temple of Milko, and it was here that Peyton Derrick learned the secret of his transformation into a lich... The timing makes sense, his becoming a lich happened long before Shrek became the Grim Reaper, very plausible. Does anyone else have any other findings?"

"I have some... perhaps insignificant little discoveries," Tanya spoke up as well, "There are four columns here, and there should be a total of sixteen gargoyle statues, but I’ve only found fourteen; two are missing."

"Are you suggesting that these gargoyles could actually come to life?" Lancelot frowned, "I’ve been worried about that too, but the battle just now would have been the perfect time for them to join in, and I don’t feel any living essence from them right now..."

"Gargoyles are elemental creatures, you can sense that too?" the half-elf exclaimed, widening her eyes in surprise, "Not all gargoyle statues in a site like this will move; only a few real ones are actually mixed in with the ordinary ones to confuse enemies. My guess is, those two gaps were the spots where the real gargoyles were hiding, but they’ve already been destroyed in the previous battle. Someone has definitely been here before us..."

"Could it be the people sent by the baroness, but she just didn’t tell us?" Little Isha interjected curiously.

"It’s possible. Look at that stone gate; the people who came before us probably couldn’t get it open, and the skeletons we fought just now might have belonged to them," Lancelot turned to the dwarf, "How about you, Bruto? Did you find anything like a mechanism for opening the gate during the battle?"