The Paladin in the Abyss

"That kind of situation is indeed possible," Lancelot chuckled, turning his head to look at Bruto. He immediately noticed that Kalalin and Koula were sound asleep in their own blankets, while Alamir was immersed in meditation.

"How long have I been like this?"

"Not too bad, around three hours, I guess. Just enough time for me to sort them out again," Bruto caressed the braids made out of his beard on his chest, "I think I must thank you for my belt; it truly is a treasure..."

By this time, the other companions had also roused from sleep or meditation. Alamir looked at Lancelot, his face breaking into a smile:

"You're awake? How do you feel? Do you still need my Healing Spell?"

"I've still got several bottles of healing potions here!" Koula also raised several red bottles.

"Thank you, I'm fine now," Lancelot jumped up from the ground, stretching his body. Although the True Qi in his Dantian was still pitifully scarce, his body had recovered to its optimal condition.

"Lancelot, what exactly happened here?" Kalalin asked curiously, "We heard some unsettling whispers from outside..."

"That..." Lancelot scratched the back of his head, "to be honest, I'm quite puzzled myself. Have you ever heard the name Kaldu? The voice proclaimed itself as such..."

"Kaldu..." Kalalin furrowed her brow tightly, "I must have heard that name somewhere, but I can't remember right now."

"He claimed to be the Lord of Baro," Lancelot hinted.

"The Lord of Baro? Kal?" The Scholar slapped his palm, "I remember now! Kaldu! The Lord of the twenty-first layer of the Abyss!"

"His title of the Lord of Baro, does it refer to the Barlow Flame Demon?" Lancelot curiously asked, "I remember you said that the Barlow Flame Demon is one of the strongest demon forms, each having the strength of a Lord Level. Could they also have a king like Mekanshut?"

"Kaldu is indeed a very powerful Barlow Flame Demon; this is evident from his rule over an entire layer of the Abyss, but the title of Lord of Baro is self-proclaimed," Kalalin shrugged, "Even a group like the Dark Cult, which focuses on the Abyss, wouldn't go as far as to inquire about what other Barlow Flame Demons think of Kaldu.

But from the information we have, almost no Barlow Flame Demon heeds his commands. These types of demons at the top of the evolutionary chain either become generals in the blood wars or maintain a cautious cooperative relationship with a certain Abyssal Lord; it seems none of the Barlows are interested in challenging Kaldu's title."

"That is to say, his power is incredibly terrifying," Lancelot nodded, "Next time we come across a big group of Zombies, we better not just dig a hole and burn them all. Kaldu seems to think it's some sort of ritual to please him; his face directly appeared in the flames of the burning corpses."

"Uh-oh," Kalalin's complexion turned pale in an instant, "So that's the cause of the intense heat and whispers? Incredible that you made it out alive! I mean, sorry, I didn't expect it to turn out like this..."

"It seems to have taken me for a common demon worshipper, even bestowing upon me a surge of furious energy as a reward," Lancelot shrugged, "I was just trying to neutralize this 'gift'; it wanted to turn me into... something else."

"Did you succeed?"

"Don't worry, I'm still the person you know," Lancelot smiled, pulling out a nightgown from his Storage Bag and putting it on, "Sorry to keep everyone waiting. Let's go back. If Agamemnon's intel isn't up to snuff, we'll just have to rely on Bruto's stomach to make our money back."

"Haha, leave it to me!" Bruto boasted as he patted his belly.

Lancelot then noticed that the Dwarf's belly had grown a full circle larger than when they first met a few months ago, it's just that he hadn't paid attention because of the beard. Bruto was already taller than the average Dwarf, and since they had seen each other every day, he now looked as sturdy as a bull upon closer inspection.

"Speaking of which..." Lancelot approached Bruto with ill-intent and picked him up before the latter could react.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! What are you doing, Lancelot?"

"Measuring your weight." The human put the Dwarf down and quickly ran off, "At least 300 pounds, how much do you eat every day? From now on, we'll have to double your food expenses..."

"At least a hundred pounds is the weight of the armor and weapons!" Bruto loudly protested, and the happy laughter of their companions echoed down the tunnel on the way back.

Although they lacked a guide on their return, it was no problem in the face of Lancelot's strong memory. In fact, he noticed several pairs of prying eyes in the shadows, those of the kobold scouts. These local residents silently helped them disarm traps along the way, so Lancelot was happy not to have to deal with them again.

When the group crawled out of the basement of the Withered Rose, the two mercenaries hired by the tavern owner looked very upset, realizing that they would probably have to look for another job soon.

It was nearing midnight, but the tavern was still exceptionally noisy. They walked straight to the bar and demanded their reward from Tiflin the innkeeper.

"Oh my god! You guys really smell..." Agamemnon looked somewhat surprised, but at the same time, he deftly took out a can of cheap perfume from under the table and sprayed it into the air, "Special. Let me guess, you've been gone so long, you must have solved my problem, right?"

"You promised us free drinks, now bring out the mead!" Bruto slammed his arm on the table, "Right now!"

"We've taken care of the guy who woke up the Zombies," Lancelot shrugged, "But you better change your way of disposing of the bodies, otherwise, I can't guarantee that nothing like this will happen again."

"Uh." The innkeeper's face turned slightly red, "What do you mean?"

"We suspect that the Zombies were already dead in your tavern," Kalalin explained. "The one who woke these bodies was a ghoul, also called an Ogre-Mage. This guy has been conducting evil Necromancy experiments, and some Zombies got out of its control, driven by instinct to return to the last place they stayed in their lifetime."

Just then, a commotion of tables and chairs being knocked over erupted behind them, followed by a loud roar:

"You reeking vermin! How dare you threaten me! Die!"

Lancelot looked back to see a brawl had broken out, and in the blink of an eye, several more corpses littered the ground.

"My floor just sprouts corpses on its own," the tavern owner's gloomy voice rose again, "Do you have any better suggestions on how to deal with them?"

"Do whatever you want, but you'd better not just dump them directly into the sewer again. I suggest you burn them, but be sure not to accumulate too many at once to burn..." Lancelot's eyes emitted a daunting glow again, "Alright, now let's talk about the other part of the reward you promised. Let's start with your source of information..."