The Paladin in the Abyss

Chapter 307: Chapter 311: Late Night Request for Help

After feasting on the delicacies prepared by Koula, everyone except Alamir and Little Isha, who were responsible for the first night watch, quickly drifted into slumber. Even the Succubus Paladin leaned against her shield and longsword, entering a state of dozing in front of the campfire.

It was indeed an extraordinarily long day. The group had set out from Melanthan at dawn and rode continuously for eight hours, rushing to the frontline of the battle between good and evil. After a brief rest of two hours in Pascaler, they set off again, crossing the Hoffenstan River before trekking another thirty miles in the darkness of night, ending the day with a rather fierce battle.

Fortunately, they had ample time to rest. There were still several hours before dawn, and they would not set off again until the next night fell.

Lancelot sat cross-legged in a shadowy corner of the camp, breathing long and distant breaths, as if he was asleep. In reality, his Divine Sense was in a very mysterious state, in which he barely felt the passage of time, almost forgetting himself, immersed in the sheer pleasure of nature’s spiritual energy continuously flowing into his body.

Before reaching Foundation Establishment, Lancelot had never understood why the little bamboo scroll mentioned that cultivators often retreat for spiritual cultivation—shortly for a few months, long for decades, and even some sitting for hundreds of years in ‘deadly meditation’, either breaking through bottlenecks and extending their Tao or turning into dry bones, rejoining the cycle of reincarnation.

But after experiencing it firsthand, he understood that once in the state of cultivation, the length of time is meaningless. If he wished, he could meditate and refine Qi for a long time without eating or drinking.

However, Han Tianzun emphasized in his spiritual cultivation insights that unless necessary, such a turtle-like method of cultivation was not recommended. Essentially, spiritual cultivation is a form of struggle, a struggle against the heavens and the earth for life, and against all things for spiritual energy. While closed-door cultivation is safe, it is mentally falling behind, and the path of spiritual cultivation can at most reach the Golden Core Stage before it becomes extremely difficult to progress.

Lancelot deeply agreed with this point. If not for the continuous adventures, he could not have amassed the Spirit Stones needed for Foundation Establishment so quickly, nor would he have had the excellent opportunity to make a breakthrough during his life-and-death struggle with the Giant Skull Demon, successfully passing the first threshold of the path of cultivation.

Besides, who doesn’t like adventures? There are always all kinds of people and events along the journey, not to mention the exciting Treasure and scenery. Lancelot even felt he liked the latter even more. Whether it was the magnificent sunset on the Plains of the Abyss, the majestic Skeleton Tower in Mogrondale City, or the beautiful pastoral scenery of Androlina, seeing these sights brought him great joy and made him eager to explore more of the unknown.

Of course, this is provided that he wouldn’t lose his life in the process.

Time ticked away, and Lancelot realized that the sun was about to rise. It was about time to “retrieve” Little Isha back into his Dimensional Bag, while the Elven Ranger, who could recover quickly through meditation, had already risen, ready to take over the first night watch with the Succubus.

At this moment, Lancelot’s Spirit Perception was suddenly triggered. His eyes opened wide as he turned his head toward the group of roses of the Demon Palace nearby.

It wasn’t just him; the two Elves also looked in that direction simultaneously. Above the dense sea of flowers, a translucent, faintly glowing white shadow was approaching slowly. The shadow looked like a beautiful woman, her body draped in delicate white gossamer, with disheveled hair floating in mid-air as if submerged in water.

The shadow almost stopped Lancelot’s heart for a beat, as it fit the description of the Mother of Demons, Cang Ye, all too well, but he quickly realized something was wrong. Firstly, his Spirit Perception did not sound an alarm as crazily as it did when he met the Demon Refinement in the deep prison; secondly, the face of the legendary Cang Ye was always hidden behind a veil, while this shadow had no covering on its face.

In fact, with a closer look, the shadow’s features were very beautiful, with long pointed ears visible beneath the flowing hair, clearly distinguishing Elven characteristics. The ghostly figure stopped thirty feet away from them, as if an invisible wall prevented her from getting any closer. Faint sobbing reached Lancelot’s ears, filled with agony and despair.

“I beg of you, my kin, I beg of you, release me from this endless curse…”

The beautiful shadow spoke, using the Elven language that Lancelot could understand. From the expressions of Alamir and Acheron, it was clear they also heard what the ghost had said, but little Isha and Elothysia seemed oblivious, happily conversing to one side.

“Through the depths of this sea of flowers, you will find my body. Ignite it with holy flames, and I shall be purified…” The ghost’s voice was as melodious as a sad ballad, “But be wary, for I can only maintain my sanity moments before dawn, and the rest of the time I am completely dominated by wrath and hatred…”

Speaking these words seemed to greatly exhaust the ghost, as her figure began to tremble and she started to drift backward, still repeating:

“Release me, I beg of you, release me…”

The flickering spectral figure completely disappeared into the deep of the flower sea. It was then that Elothysia finally noticed the Elves’ disturbance and asked with a whisper of surprise:

“What’s wrong with you two? Is something amiss?”

“You didn’t see?” Alamir asked back, astonished, “There was a woman in white over there, a ghost…”

“A-a-a ghost?! A woman ghost?!” Little Isha jumped in fright, looking as if her hair were about to stand on end, “Don’t scare me, I didn’t see anything…”

“Miss… strictly speaking, you are kind of a female ghost yourself…” Alamir said with a bit of a wry smile as he looked at her, “Then did you hear anything? Maybe a faint crying or something like that?”

“I-Is that so… But I didn’t hear anything just now,” the Vampire girl’s voice became even shriller and thinner with nervousness. She turned her head toward Elothysia, “Elothysia, did you sense anything unusual just now?”

“No,” the Succubus Paladin shook her head in equal confusion.

“I heard it too,” Lancelot finally spoke up, and everyone suddenly became aware of his presence, as if the place where the Human Knight had been standing was no more than a rock, “That spirit had the appearance of an Elf and spoke in the Elven language. Perhaps she only wanted, or was only able to make her own kind hear her.”

“And you, blessed by the Elves, could also hear her,” the Elf Priest nodded, then his face grew solemn, “What are your thoughts on what she said? Could it be a trap?”

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