The Paladin in the Abyss-Chapter 805 - 816 Some Problems

Three corpses turned their heads in unison, staring at Lancelot with puzzled and bewildered eyes. After a while, it seemed they finally reacted and realized their current situation.

"Uh, I apologize. We must have been imprisoned for so long that we’ve even forgotten basic etiquette..." The dried-up old man straightened his back, suddenly appearing quite tall. "Great Lord of the Dead and honored Divine Envoys, I am Tedder Derrick, the tenth King of the Derrick Kingdom. Here is my Queen, Yushiel, and our youngest daughter, Fran."

"Thank you for your mercy, my lord." The Queen also curtsied politely. It was apparent that there was scarcely any moisture left in her body. "We await your command."

"You look like a nobleman, Mr. Lancelot." The Princess finally spoke, staring straight at the Human Knight with unblinking eyes. "Perhaps I should address you as Sir?"

"Titles don’t matter." Lancelot shrugged. "I have some questions I’d like to ask you…"

"Answer his questions," Cranvo chimed in, "as if I were the one asking."

"Of course, my lord." The King first respectfully answered Cranvo, then turned to the Human Knight. "How may I serve you, Sir Lancelot?"

"Honorable King Tedder, please tell me about your plight and the reasons behind all this." Lancelot said quietly. "It might help us defeat your heir, Peyton Derrick."

"May the gods curse that name!!" The King’s emotions flared up again. "Regicide! Patricide! Matricide!"

"And his own younger sister," the Princess added coldly.

"For what purpose?"

"Of course, for my throne..."

"No, my dear father, he doesn’t care about that broken chair." The Princess spoke again, her voice tinged with peculiar satisfaction. "He simply hates you, hates all of us."

"Impossible!" The Queen shrieked sharply, "I loved him so much!"

"I don’t want to defend my killer, mother, but your overindulgence sometimes became suffocating, especially for a grown man," the once-beautiful Princess said indifferently. "Let me answer the Knight’s question. What you want to ask is why Peyton would commit such an inhuman act, right?"

Lancelot silently nodded.

"One thing I can be sure of is that he had that thought for a long time before he finally acted on it." The Princess coldly glanced at the King and Queen standing on the platform. "I recognized that look in his eyes, but my tyrannical and arrogant father was used to such looks and didn’t think anything was wrong, while my mother chose to cover her eyes and not believe what she saw."

"Fran! How dare you address your father like that? I am the King, and a King’s words are law. I do as I please..."

"My dear daughter, it was not overindulgence. Peyton’s aberrant behavior was... all your father’s fault..."

"Silence."

Cranvo spoke, and though his voice wasn’t very loud, the emotional King and Queen fell silent immediately, as if someone had taken away their vocal cords. The Lord of the Dead lightly waved his hand, and several huge mirrors appeared beside the two. As they looked into them, scenes began to flicker and appear in the mirrors.

"Since you can’t answer the questions properly, first review your lives as an observer. Miss, please continue."

"Yes, my lord." The young female corpse bowed respectfully to the Grim Reaper. "As I was saying, Peyton had long harbored thoughts of killing us, but I never believed he had the courage to put them into action. Perhaps his pain and hatred caught the attention of some dark entity, which believed he had some utility, so it responded. I guess they might have made some sort of pact, and we became the sacrifice he offered to that entity... or rather, only I was the sacrifice, and my parents’ deaths were the reward he wished to receive..."

"A dark entity?" Lancelot raised an eyebrow. "The former Lord of the Dead, Milko?"

"What are you talking about? What former Lord of the Dead?"

’These three are devout worshippers of the Grim Reaper,’ Cranvo’s voice rang directly in Lancelot’s consciousness. ’Since the Divine office of the Lord of the Dead was completely transferred to Xirei, and then absorbed entirely by me, to an ordinary believer, I am still the same Lord of the Dead.’

"Oh, don’t mind the details," Lancelot waved his hand. "What I mean is, was it Milko, one of the gods of death, who made the pact with Peyton Derrick?"

"Impossible! Our entire family are loyal followers of the Lord of the Dead, except Peyton. He hated his parents and, thus, anything related to this family." The Princess looked offended. "In fact, it was in this very temple that Peyton struck us down, thereby desecrating this Holy Land. Although I don’t know the specifics, I guess he made a pact with some Fiend from the Lower Planes, who probably altered Peyton’s soul, turning him into a cold, resolute, and fearless killer, while also teaching him some blasphemous knowledge to trap our souls within our bodies, subjecting us to nearly eternal imprisonment and torment..."

"And that turned him into a Lich?"

"I guess so." The young female corpse nodded and glanced sadly at the empty coffin next to her. "After we were murdered, our souls couldn’t leave and saw what happened afterward. We watched his flesh peel away piece by piece until only a skeleton remained. We thought it was some terrible curse consuming him... but in the end, he became an undead monster and left, abandoning us in this luxurious cell."

"I see." Lancelot stroked his chin. "From what I know, Peyton later returned to this temple. Do you know anything about that?"

"Yes, I know. He came back to this room and talked to me for a while. He said something completely nonsensical, about the Lord of the Dead being dead, and that he came to claim the power left behind by the god. If he succeeded, he would grant me freedom, on the condition that I become his Queen... I was sure then that he had completely lost his mind. Later, there was a violent tremor above, as if a battle had broken out, but when everything quieted down again, Peyton did not reappear. So, I guess he must have lost..."