The Paladin in the Abyss

Chapter 317: Chapter 321 The Role of the Wanderer

“`

Although Lancelot had known before arriving at the Abyss that magic truly existed and had witnessed various enigmatic Divine Skills of Spiritual Cultivation Technique, the resurrection miracle unfolding before his eyes still deeply shocked him. This was completely different from conjuring some flames or sounds out of thin air; the notion that death was irreversible was so firmly entrenched in his mind that he could not fully comprehend what he was seeing.

Alamir clearly was also experiencing this for the first time, despite theoretically being more capable of performing such miracles. The elf’s expression was one of utter confusion, as if he had yet to understand why he had come back to life.

But the Succubus did not intend to give this newly awakened Priest any time to adjust. Healing energy flowed from her hands, barely pulling the elf back from the brink of death. She pulled the Priest up from the ground while shaking his body rather roughly to focus his attention on her.

“Resurrection Art!” the Succubus shouted at him, “Did you prepare this spell?”

Alamir nodded subconsciously, but this action caused Elothysia to show a look of immense relief. The Succubus took out a Diamond from a nearby Gem Bag and stuffed it into the elf’s hand, saying urgently:

“I can only cast another Third Circle spell once more, the other one is up to you! Be quick, we’re running out of time!”

The Elf Priest’s gaze was still somewhat vacant, but then he saw Kalalin and Koula being moved over by Lancelot using vines. Alamir had a sudden spark of awareness, as if he’d fully awakened, and finally grasped the situation at hand.

Without any unnecessary movements, the Priest immediately began praying next to Kalalin, while Elothysia repeated the same ritual over Koula. Moments later, both opened their eyes, and Lancelot’s heart lifted with joy, knowing his companions had returned.

“You will get your eternal rest, but not today.” The Elf Priest reached out to pull the Scholar up from the ground, “Don’t thank me, thank Elothysia. If it weren’t for her, I’d be enjoying the quiet alongside you.”

“Resurrection Art must be cast within one minute of death, luckily we were just in time. There is nothing to thank me for, this is what I should do…” the Succubus explained to Lancelot, then helped the Halfling to his feet, “Koula, do you still have your healing potion?”

“What? Oh… the healing potion, yes, I have it…”

The two who had just been resurrected were equally bewildered, as if they hadn’t yet woken from their sleep. Their condition was also very poor, and a kobold with a stick could have finished them off again.

But with the help of the healing potion, they started to look much better and finally began to understand their surroundings. The three sincerely thanked the Succubus Paladin, their demeanor slightly awkward—their gratitude was genuine, but they did not seem to be particularly happy about it, as if someone woke them up on time on an important day when they had to rise early but just when they were in the midst of a wonderful dream.

Besides the three who had just been revived, Bruto was also still lying on the ground. However, judging from the dwarf’s steadily rising and falling back and the snores he was emitting, he had merely fainted and was not in danger of losing his life. Additionally, Clone Well was also lying in a corner nearby, the skeleton had not even withstood the first wave of the banshee’s wails, indicating that sound-based attacks were his weakness.

But there was one figure not seen. Lancelot’s heart lurched—had little Isha not been able to withstand the attacks of those wraiths?

Although Vampires can escape to their nests in gaseous form after sustaining fatal injuries, such a state only makes them immune to standard physical damage, and the wraiths’ attacks of the banshees were clearly not included. He extended his Divine Sense into his Storage Bag, and that broken little box was completely empty, without a trace of anything.

“`

Lancelot really panicked this time. Although he rarely called her so openly, he truly regarded little Isya as his own important sister. This girl, doomed by fate, was extremely polite to everyone and always kept Hagrid Manor immaculately clean, so clean one could nearly forget they were in the Abyss.

Her refusal to hide behind someone else’s protection, and her initiative to ask to join them on their adventure, added to Lancelot’s admiration for her. Not everyone possesses the noble quality of bravery, especially not for a young girl who spent most of her life within the high walls of a court.

It wasn’t just him; everyone liked the little girl very much. In terms of her relationship with Tijana, Isya had made much more progress than Lancelot ever did. If he had to confront Tijana with news of the girl’s death, Lancelot doubted he could withstand the wrath of the Succubus Lord.

Suddenly, his Divine Sense stirred, and he turned to look toward the stone chamber where the succubus had previously been.

There Isya was, walking out with a brisk stride, completely unharmed, holding an empty bottle in her hand.

“Isn’t that the bottle I use to store Holy Water?” Alamir looked astonished. “Goodness, what on earth did you do?”

“I picked up the bottle you dropped and poured it where it needed to be poured,” Isya said calmly, her tone surprisingly similar to Lancelot’s. But then she couldn’t maintain her cool demeanor any longer and, laughing, she explained:@@novelbin@@

“Maybe because I’m a vampire, I noticed there was a skeleton behind that iron door the moment it was opened.”

She stepped slightly to the side, pointing towards the interior of the stone chamber. The once dull skeleton now appeared crystal clear, as though it had been freshly purified.

“When the fight broke out, I couldn’t be of much help, but the wails of the succubus didn’t seem to affect me,” Isya said, spreading her hands and shrugging, imitating Bruto’s habitual gesture. “I kept an eye on your vial of Holy Water, reminding myself not to get splashed, so I saw exactly where the bottle rolled away.”

“Then you snuck in there and poured Holy Water on the skeleton?” Alamir clapped his hands together. “Normally, a succubus would fiercely guard her own remains, and pouring Holy Water is usually the final step in purifying a Resentful Spirit…”

“Brother Lancelot, how did I do?” Isya turned to look at Lancelot, her face full of expectation.

“You were the greatest hero of this battle,” Lancelot recounted more details, his voice full of emotion as he reached out to ruffle Isya’s hair. “I was wondering why the resistance of those shadows suddenly collapsed, it turns out it was because of you. Unknowingly, you have become so reliable…”

“I thought so too! Ehehehe…” The young girl grabbed Lancelot’s hand, happily rubbing against it like a contented little cat.

Sir Zalovich had told her more than once that there were many ways a Wanderer could help the team, and that combat was pretty far down on that list. Today, she had a true understanding of the essence of his words. More importantly, the young girl had found her place in the team, knowing that she could be a great help to her companions without worrying about being a burden to anyone.

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