The Paladin in the Abyss

Chapter 318: Chapter 322: Superdegree

After so many twists and turns, they had finally taken the succubus down. Although they were fortunate enough not to lose any members, the cost they paid was still very heavy. The succubus’s attack left no visible wounds, but her touch directly corroded everyone’s life energy.

Immediate repair of this kind of damage required the Fifth Circle of the Divine Arts’ high-tier Restoration Art, a tier of spell that surpassed Alamir’s casting abilities. Fortunately, by resting, this type of damage would gradually recover over time, and the priest and paladins had almost exhausted their spell quotas for the day, so it was clearly time to move forward.

Fortunately, they had thoroughly cleared the cave and could rest there with peace of mind. The petite vampire could even release those Demon Palace roses again—after all, those bloodthirsty plants would not attack her, as long as she had Lancelot’s help when retrieving them.

But before that, they still had to complete the last step of the ritual for delivering the succubus. The priest’s bag still contained several bottles of holy water, a liquid filled with holy energy. Its creation process wasn’t complex but depended on the deities the priest or paladins worshipped, usually involving a prayer ritual, consuming some silver powder, and a Circle One technique.

But Shuni’s priests had a unique production method. Many knew that the Lady of Fire’s priests would take baths in the morning and place a mirror in front of the bathtub and light incense, praying to their goddess in the bathtub, asking Shuni to grant them the power to bring love and beauty to more hearts.

Most people did not care what happened to the water in the bathtub after the prayers ended.

Incidentally, the dwarves’ holy water was also very special. All excellent Dwarf Priests were the best brewers in their tribes, and there was a very pragmatic reason behind this.

The group entered the stone chamber that had once been firmly sealed by a thick iron door, watching as the priest used complex hand techniques to carefully sprinkle a large amount of holy water on the skeleton and the surrounding ground while softly chanting complex prayers. As he moved, the skeleton gradually became transparent and finally turned into a pile of tiny light dust, slowly floating into the air and gradually disappearing.

As the ceremony progressed, a holy and solemn atmosphere descended, rendering the stone chamber a remarkably ‘clean’ feel, an effect of the residual Divine Arts. Lancelot’s spirit perception twitched slightly, and he turned his head, slightly gathering some True Yuan in his eyes, then saw a blurred shadow in the corner of the wall.

The shadow was of the succubus they had just dealt with, only her face had returned to normal, identical to last night when she had come to their camp seeking help. Except for Lancelot, no one else seemed to notice this apparition, but the shadow realized Lancelot was watching her.

The shadow bowed deeply to Lancelot, silently expressing her gratitude. Then she pointed to the spot where she stood, her mouth moving silently, but Lancelot did not hear any sound.

The shadow became fainter, and her face showed a serene expression, reflecting a release from endless torment. Lancelot silently nodded to the shadow, watching as the apparition gradually disappeared into the air.

He turned his head, realizing the ceremony had ended, and everyone was curiously inspecting the room, imagining what it felt like to have been imprisoned there for so long. Koula, taking advantage of her height, was collecting various valuable items scattered on the floor.

“Under normal circumstances, you wouldn’t find any reflective surfaces in a succubus’s lair,” Alamir pointed at the metal mirror on the wall, damaged by a flying hammer previously thrown by Bruto, “They despise seeing their own horrific faces, and even a slight glimpse can drive a succubus into a furious rage.”

“Although she can pass through solids, she would be bound by her own bones, returning here time and again,” the Elven Ranger shook his head, “A succubus is a tremendous threat to any living being, yet she is helpless against this mirror made of Abyssal Metal. Every time she returns, she is tormented by the sight it reflects.”

“Typical demon tactic.”

The Scholar commented, while the Succubus Paladin silently nodded.

“The creator of the cell must have planned this all along,” Lancelot examined the distorted metal mirror, realizing it was much thicker than it appeared, “If it is merely for confinement, installing a mirror seems unnecessary. This suggests everything was planned in advance, with the builder quite certain the prisoner would turn into a succubus, perhaps even by the builder’s own hand.”

“But who exactly is this succubus?” Kalalin asked curiously, “Why has she faced such a tragic fate?”

“Look what I’ve found,” Koula called for her companions’ attention, “Maybe you can find some clues among these items?”

At her words, everyone turned their heads, only to see that on a small stone table, Koula had gathered items glowing with magic. Unlike ordinary items, any equipment imbued with magic possesses the ability to self-repair, thus not succumbing to decay over time as ordinary objects would.

On the table was an exquisite hand crossbow, with fine, delicate patterns indicative of Elven craftsmanship. Koula demonstrated to the group that by performing the loading action, a crossbow arrow would appear magically in front of the bowstring; next to the hand crossbow was a hairband with an ice-blue gemstone that emitted a cold light. Kalalin briefly inspected it and declared it had resistance to fire damage, making it a very practical item for adventures in lower planes; in addition, there were bracelets, necklaces, and several rings, all of which provided protection against certain types of damage.

“All of these are protective gear; the succubus must have been an important figure in life,” Alamir speculated, then turned to his kin, “I know she must have been locked up here a long time ago, but have you heard any rumors about a missing Elven dignitary?”

The Ranger, disguised as a Zoel Elf, furrowed his brows in thought for a moment, then shook his head. “In the history of Androlina, many great Protectors have perished. Indeed, many have gone missing in battle, I can’t be sure of her identity… Lancelot, what are you doing? What is that?”

The Human Knight released the spell he had been clutching, as a vine sprouted from where he last saw the succubus underground, its end curling around an almost transparent short sword that, when slightly rotated, reflected a glint like starlight.

“How did you find…wait, I think I’ve heard of this weapon…” the Elven Ranger stared intently at the dagger, his lips quivering slightly, “This, this seems to be Eskodel’s personal sword, Starlight Strike…Why is it here…”

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