The Paladin in the Abyss

Chapter 714: Chapter 735: Memories of the Sword

Hearing Lancelot’s question, the Angel fell into silence for a long while before finally speaking in a sorrowful tone,

“That day, just like always, Zariel was monitoring the battle’s progress in the Blood War…”

The world around them shattered instantly, colors and light twisted beside them before reassembling into a wholly new scene. Everyone found themselves transformed into translucent phantoms, rushing through the smoky, crimson sky following the Angel ahead. Beneath their feet was a land covered with ruins, where Low Rank Fiends from the lower planes fought fiercely like two different colored tides, each swelling to engulf the other.

Lancelot subconsciously thought this to be the Plains of the Abyss at some point in the past, but he quickly noticed several anomalies. The ruins on the ground, though long destroyed by war, could still be distinguished as once magnificent palaces, bustling cities, delicate gardens, and square fountains. These well-planned and designed buildings were exceedingly rare on the Abyssal Plane, with even Twin Bridges Town paling in comparison.

Besides, among the battling factions, the Bartez side looked unlike anything Lancelot was familiar with. The Demon’s ranks teemed with obese, swollen Low Rank Fiends positioned at the forefront of the formation, so many that they appeared to match the army size of the Demons they faced.

Lancelot finally realized, this wasn’t the Plains of the Abyss; this was Aphnas, the first layer of Barto Hell. Before the figure in front of them became its ruler, Aphnas was the Blood War’s principal battleground.

However, at this time, Zariel was clearly not yet an Archduke of Hell. She looked noble, beautiful, and pure. Desperately flapping her wings, she flew at full speed towards something ahead, as if a matter of utmost urgency was whipping at her back.

A massive Portal appeared on the horizon, and Zariel rushed towards it in the blink of an eye. A small squad of Beard Demons guarded the Portal, who, upon seeing the Angel, bellowed loudly. Zariel savagely slashed her sword, carving a path of flesh before her; she dashed through in a flash.

The other side of the Portal was a heavily guarded fortress, with numerous fully-armed warriors tensely watching the magic gateway’s exit. Among them was Lulu, the golden elephant previously seen by the group. Upon recognizing the incoming Zariel, the guards visibly relaxed, while Lulu flapped her large ears and flew over.

“As soon as we received your message, Yael and the others left immediately,” Lulu tried to comfort the anxious Angel. “Don’t worry too much, by now, they should have arrived.”

“Come with me,” Zariel said, her voice seemingly unaffected by the small elephant. “The prayers have stopped…”

A flash of golden light, and once more the surrounding environment changed. Lancelot immediately recognized that they had finally arrived above Aldergran, although it seemed they were too late. The most direct evidence was the toppling of the grand Angel statue. Every house in the small town was ablaze, corpses littered the only street, and the temple doors, which had sheltered the townsfolk in the previous Illusionary Realm, were ajar—Lancelot dared not imagine the horrors inside.

By the ruins of the destroyed Angel statue, a massive, hideous, and ferocious Werewolf looked up, issuing a mocking and malicious cackle at the Protectors of the small town who had just appeared. A powerful rage filled everyone as Zariel, like a meteor falling from the sky, charged towards Yenogu. A fierce battle broke out amidst the ruins of the town. It was evident that the Werewolf Lord, having succeeded in his intent, was not eager to fight the enraged Celestial Protector. After a few exchanges, he turned to flee, only to be viciously struck from behind by Zariel, falling into a Portal that appeared suddenly.

The sound of galloping hooves rose; the mortal reinforcements had finally reached the small town. Sadly, unlike in the Illusionary Realm, they were far too late. A few riders, looking like captains, spotted Zariel. They wanted to approach but stopped at a distance, for this moment seemed not the best time for closeness.

Zariel knelt on the ground, her beautiful wings drooping helplessly, tainted with dirtied blood and dust. Her shoulders trembled uncontrollably, and from her veiled eyes, red tears streamed unceasingly.

“I swear, for these innocent victims, I will put an end to the tide of chaos coming from the Abyss…” the Angel vowed in a chilling tone, “…no matter what price I have to pay for it.”

“Ah, so this is the moment then,” Lancelot quietly said. “Is this the spark that set everything in motion?”

‘No.’ The voice of the Sword of Toril echoed in everyone’s minds, ‘It is but the final straw that broke the camel’s back.’

The scene shattered again, and then it reformed into fleeting images, while an ethereal song rang in their ears:

”

“Angels lectured in the fervent city, proclaiming the destruction of evil in the universe,”

“The enthusiastic crowd responded with thunderous applause, firmly believing this to be the will of the gods;”

“People queued in long lines to join the ranks of the angels, with the mayor presenting armor and steeds;”

“Zariel personally taught the warriors swordsmanship, and they were known as Hell Riders;”

“The mighty host passed through the Portal, with songs wafting above them;”

“For the first time, the armies of mortals appeared on the battlefield of the bloody war, making demons and fiends tremble at their presence;”

“The riders easily crushed the legions of Tanari, as effortlessly as song passed through the air;”

“Bartez also retreated in trepidation, but their legions did not collapse;”

“Victory was within easy grasp until mortals betrayed out of fear;”

“The traitors fled the homeland of the demons, sealing shut the passage behind them;”

“The angel fought valiantly to her death, with the Lord of Darkness appearing before her;”

“‘Thou canst end the bloodshed, by pledging loyalty to me.’

“Zariel lowered her noble head, for her heart had already died in the betrayal;”

“But might there still be hope of redemption if the remnants of the fireworks can be found?”

”

The last scene froze on the image of Zariel kneeling before Asmodis, and then it gradually darkened. When the lights returned, everyone found themselves back in Visuvius’s chamber, and the Treasured Sword planted in the Holy Throne was emitting a soft glow.

“‘Go, Sir, draw her out.’ Lancelot’s voice resonated within with the sound of Starlight Strike again, ‘I will not be jealous.'”