The Paladin in the Abyss

Chapter 792: Chapter 803: How to Choose

After the battle had ended, the group conducted a quick search of the torture chamber, only finding some Gold Coins and a few low-value gemstones. Before leaving the room, Lancelot summoned a slender vine from the cracks between the bricks and strung together the dozens of heads they had seized, then stuffed it into his Dimensional Bag.

The exit of the torture chamber was sealed by an iron gate, but the lock had already been destroyed by people who had been there before. With a bit of exertion, Lancelot lifted the heavy gate and held it until all his companions had passed through.

Behind the door was a staircase leading downward into the unknown. The steps had concealed pressure traps, but fortunately, the bodies of the victims lying on top prevented the traps from resetting themselves, and Little Isha timely discovered the last untriggered trap.

The exit of the staircase was another iron gate which seemed to be jammed by something, forcing Lancelot to take a rather violent approach to physically break through this barrier.

After coming out of the staircase, the group entered a narrow corridor flanked by cell after cell, each with identical iron barred doors. Nearly every cell held a prisoner, from every race, whose reasons for incarceration had long been erased by the sands of time.

Despite this, the torment of these prisoners had not ended, as they had been transformed into Undead, unable to find peace. Upon hearing the arrival of the group, they immediately lunged with howls, only to be firmly stopped by the cell doors.

But not entirely stopped. The prisoners’ palms, feet, and even heads fell off their bodies due to their violent motions and crawled along the floor towards the group. Though this was actually harmless, the companions still felt a shiver down their spines and quickly smashed these limbs into pieces.

Hearing the howls of those who could not die, Lancelot knew that even if there were souls still trapped in those horrifying bodies, they had long gone completely mad from the endless torment in the dark dungeon. The Human Knight sighed, and although the cell doors meant that these prisoners were not actually a threat, he still drew his Longsword, planning to end their suffering.

“Brother, let me do it.”

Little Isha noticed Lancelot’s intent and gently grabbed his arm, to which he naturally had no objections. The girl blessed by Cranvo adopted a posture that could only be described as compassionate, and with her sword, she ended the existence of each Undead trapped in the cells, murmuring at the same time:

“Dead ones, listen to the gospel. The Lord of the Dead, Cranvo, has already established a covenant—every person shall receive a fair judgement after death, and those not judged should not suffer endless, cruel torture…”

Before each execution, Little Isha would repeat that passage. While she did this, Lancelot silently observed the young girl’s expression, making sure she truly meant those words. This stirred some complex emotions in the heart of the Human Knight; though the comparison might seem inappropriate, seeing a companion, akin to a younger sister, find spiritual solace felt like learning that a daughter was about to get married.

“What’s wrong, brother?” Little Isha noticed Lancelot’s expression, “Did I do something wrong just now?”

“Ah, no, I was just thinking about a question…” Lancelot touched his nose, “Suppose, just suppose, I found a way to escape the shadow of death, what would the Lord of the Dead think of it?”

“Escape the shadow of death?” the young girl blinked in confusion, “Like me, become an Undead?”

“No, not like that, I know the Lord of the Dead’s views on that, I mean, through some… more natural way.”

“Hmm… It seems the doctrine only states that one need not fear death, avoid death, or hastily seek death, nor embrace the path of the Undead. So, if you could achieve immortality naturally, Brother, then the Lord of the Dead would not view you with hostility…” Little Isha said, her face lighting up with anticipation, “Can you really accomplish such a thing, Brother?”

“Eeh…” Bruto made a sound of disdain from the side. “What if Cranvo doesn’t like you and decides to deal with you? Whom would you choose then?”

“That won’t happen!” the little girl puffed up, glaring at the young Dwarf. “If… if the Lord of the Dead really makes that decision, then it means He is a bad god! I would definitely stand by Brother Lancelot’s side!”

“Haha! I also believe that won’t happen because I know what Cranvo… is like as a god.” Lancelot rubbed Isha’s hair gently. “But if He really makes that decision, it would mean that the divine office of the dead is about to completely suppress his remaining humanity. It means the mortal once known as Cranvo will vanish forever, and since I consider Him a friend, I would never allow that to happen.”

“That’s the most ridiculous claim I’ve ever heard,” Bruto chuckled and shook his head, “but I like it, so remember to include me if that situation really arises.”

“You all…” the voice of the Elf Priest echoed faintly from the side, “don’t you think this topic is somewhat blasphemous?”

“What about it? Will you come when the time comes?”

“Are you joking? Of course, I’ll come.”

“Kalalin?”

“I must go.” The Scholar laughed heartily. “Besides, I might bring some powerful assistance, so don’t forget about the Goddess of Magic and the Lord of the Dead… uh, Uncle Barrend, please do not make that face; we are just discussing some hypothetical situations… ”

“… I know quite a few Adventurers; many renowned ones even seek me out to custom-make their weapons.” The old Dwarf’s shoulders sagged visibly, “But there has never been anyone as crazy as you guys…”

“Oh Dad, if it weren’t for this kind of madness, you’d probably never see me again.” Bruto nudged his father with his shoulder, “And, you’re still not aware of Sir Lancelot’s strength? Don’t worry…”

Amid their laughter, the group passed through several rooms that looked like Meditation rooms before finally entering a circular room. A quarter of the room was occupied by a small hill made of skulls, in front of which stood an altar crafted from black gemstones. Apart from that, there were no other exits in the room, and everyone was clear that they had arrived at the destination they were seeking.

“So, just place the skull on it, right?” Lancelot took out the string of skulls he had tied earlier from the Dimensional Bag, “How many should I put?”

“Just put them one by one,” Bruto suggested. “Keep putting them until the altar can’t hold anymore, or until something special happens…”