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The Paladin in the Abyss-Chapter 646 - 670: Fighting Fiercely in Blood
Chapter 646 -670: Fighting Fiercely in Blood
Sonam emitted a hissing growl and lifted her three right arms, positioning her longsword in front of herself.
The Demon Refinement from the deep abyss didn’t waste words either. He crossed the several dozen feet in two strides and swung his iron hammer-like fist toward the Serpent Demon. A fierce expression flashed across the face of the Serpent Demon. She chose not to dodge but raised her limbs to meet the demon’s punch head-on.
The scene she had hoped for did not occur. The opponent’s fingers were covered in a thick layer of scale mixed with bony material, as hard as if wearing metal gauntlets. A punch knocked the six-armed Serpent Demon’s longsword aside, and the second punch smashed into her face, the powerful force sending Sonam flying. She spun several times in the air before crashing to the ground.
The gasps from the surroundings made the Demon Refinement from the deep abyss reveal a smug expression, as if his dignity had been restored with that powerful punch. However, his smile quickly froze, because the graceful and sinister body of the six-armed Serpent Demon shakily rose from the ground, looking far from being dead.
“Pah… Is this the best you can do?” Sonam turned her head and spit out a few small, sharp fangs, her eyes displaying contempt, “Earl Kabumore from Flagethoss, looks like you are not quite up to it, did you forget to take your medicine before the battle?”
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“Hmph… Nice last words.”
Deep abyss Demon Refinement shook his arms and charged at the Serpent Demon with fists swinging again. Sonam no longer attempted to contest head-on but tried to dodge with all her might like Lancelot. Yet due to her larger size compared to the Human Knight, it wasn’t long before she was struck by a claw, tearing a slit from her shoulder to her chest on her leather armor, revealing the skin underneath and her ample bosom.
Trapped in a cage of flames, Lancelot became somewhat anxious. He initially wanted to pass directly through the firewall in front of him, but his Spirit Perception prevented him from doing so— the flames summoned by the Demon Refinement weren’t ordinary; they were directly from the purgatory of another realm, Barto, with a temperature more than double that of volcanic magma. Even with the physique of Lancelot at the Foundation Establishment Stage, he couldn’t traverse such intense flames.
Trying to fly over it was also impossible, as the temperature increased the higher he went. A dome-like barrier had formed over his head, and even if he wore the Transformation Ring, he couldn’t escape through it with bat wings.
Lancelot then toggled a special switch on his armor, activating the hidden Anti-Magic Stone inside. The result was disappointing— the orange-red flames continued to roll, showing no sign of disappearing. These flames, although summoned by magic, were not a magic effect themselves and could not be dispersed by the Anti-Magic Field.
He clenched his teeth, unable to delay any longer. It seemed he had no other choice but to resort to his last measure: transforming into the Flame Demon Form, immune to fire.
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“Alamir! Are you ready?!”
Bruto firmly pressed his shoulder against his shield, struggling with all his might against the several large cleavers pounding on it. Beside him, three other dwarves stood shoulder to shoulder, their stances mirroring each other perfectly.
After Lancelot departed, the squad had still stubbornly held their line, but their killing speed had significantly decreased, and from the distant flame portal, demons kept pouring out. With the numbers increasing on the other side, the four dwarves had completely given up on attacking, focusing instead on using their solid shields to prevent the enemies from advancing.
As a small but sturdy race, the dwarves’ resilience was fully displayed at this moment. Thanks to their well-developed muscles and lower center of gravity, the four of them stood firm like rocks buried in the earth, steadfastly refusing to move even when facing more than triple their number of enemies.
On the flanks of the team, the old human Holy Warrior and a gnome armorer were fighting fiercely, covered in blood. Ivendell’s longsword and shield blazed with dazzling golden flames, the Holy Fire dealing radiant damage, effective against all types of Fiends. Any demon in their right mind wanted to stay far away from him, but Ivendell could compel enemies within thirty feet to battle him with his holy words.
This was a special skill of the Holy Warriors who had taken the Oath of the Crown, not a magical ability, so Bartez’s resistance to magic was ineffective against it. Nearly no Beard Demon could resist his challenge; they rushed towards the Holy Warrior like moths to a flame.
On the other side of the formation, Valen Belen seemed to have removed some restrictions from his powered armor, standing still like a lighthouse while continuously launching chains of lightning that could leap forward. Though each leap slightly diminished its power, it was still enough to severely injure any Beard Demon that came close, and if they dared to extend their metal weapons towards the constantly discharging gnome, they still had to contend with the Half-elf Cursed Swordmaster Tanya.
Though Tanya’s defensive skills were poor, if the enemy couldn’t counter-attack, that disadvantage didn’t exist. Moreover, from each enemy slain by her Shadow Glaive, a shadow-like Bound Spirit would rise from the corpse. Despite their reluctance, the spirits, subjugated by the curse’s power, delivered touches filled with negative energy to their former comrades. Even a completely healthy Beard Demon became extremely weak upon touch, and if not for the short duration of these shadows, Tanya alone could have annihilated an army.
However, whether it was the flames ignited through divine power channeled by the Holy Warrior or the lightning pulses released by the gnome armorer from lifting his armor’s restrictions, neither could continue indefinitely. Once their power was depleted, the situation would immediately become extremely dangerous.
The view returns to the center of the formation, where a green tentacle as thick as a baby’s forearm and ending in thorn-like spikes sneaked through the gaps between shields like a blind poisonous snake, searching for gaps in the armor, and then fiercely stabbed into Bruto’s side neck.
The dwarf grunted in pain, but the force against his shield didn’t relax at all. It was a Beard Demon’s characteristic beard, whose stinging effect was similar to that of a venomous snake – meaning, if one disregards the venom itself, the damage was not severe. Unfortunately, as a race created by the soul forger Moradin from stone and clay, dwarves naturally had resistance to toxins, so although the sting was painfully itchy for Bruto, that was all; it didn’t affect his combat abilities at all.
He freed his right hand and pulled out a small knife hanging behind his shield. With a swing over his head, the sly demon’s beard was easily severed and with a snap, fell onto the already blood-muddied ground – lying among more than a dozen other severed beards.
“Aaaaagh! Disgusting!” Bruto roared in anger, a sudden burst of strength emerging from within him. He aggressively pushed his shield forward, causing the three Beard Demons confronting him to fall to the ground. “I can’t stand this anymore! Damned Elves, how much longer do you need?!!”