The Paladin in the Abyss

The undead knights exchanged a glance (another proof of their self-awareness) and did not mindlessly charge at the dwarf. Instead, they sent only two to deal with him, one stayed on guard, and the remaining two moved toward the other companions.

Bruto's heart sank. His provocation clearly failed again; the enemies were much craftier than he had imagined. Simultaneously, he felt a sense of humiliation from being underestimated. Why did the enemies think that just two of them could handle him? The humiliation quickly turned into fury. In a berserk state, the dwarf did not want to waste time thinking; he only wanted to make the enemies pay for that disdain.

Bruto charged out again, like a wild boar with its butt on fire. His target raised a heavy great sword high in anticipation and struck decisively, but the outcome was different from what the undead knight expected—Bruto purposely straightened his upper body during the charge, and just before contact, he suddenly lowered his center of gravity. This caused a minor error in the enemy's timing, resulting in the sword blade that would have hit the dwarf's shoulder instead hitting the shield behind him.

Maybe the amulet given by Cranvo played a part, who knows?

Nevertheless, the sword still hit Bruto. Although the blade did not touch the dwarf's skin, the force of the strike was wholly transmitted to him. Bruto emitted a muffled grunt, a spray of blood mist escaped his tightly clenched teeth, evidently injured; yet this injury was self-induced. The next second, the dwarf's shoulder crashed into the opponent's abdomen, sending the necromancy-strengthened skeleton knight flying.

That was exactly the effect Bruto wanted. He knew he could not keep hopping around like a monkey. To hit the enemy, he was willing to bear some cost, as long as the damage he inflicted was greater than what he endured. After the shoulder slam, his arm swung in a continuous motion, and before the opponent landed, his warhammer struck again, creating a hair-raising thud on the opponent's breastplate.

But the other enemy did not stand idly. Just as Bruto wanted to pursue, he heard a sharp wind-breaking sound. Entirely on instinct, the dwarf swung a hammer, clashing fiercely with a battle axe.

In intense battles, unexpected events often occur: right at this critical moment, the enemy's axe blade shattered in the clash, and a sharp fragment deeply embedded itself into the unprotected part of the dwarf's left arm. Blood sprayed out like a fountain, yet Bruto remained silent, his warhammer arcing through the air, smashing into the enemy again as if completely unaffected.

However, the berserk state merely suppressed his pain. This strike's power was significantly weaker than before; although it hit the enemy's chest, the opponent only staggered back several steps instead of being knocked down. The enemy who had earlier fallen stood up again, shakily raising his sword towards the dwarf.

Bruto could opt to turn and block this attack, but he repeated the previous trick—leaving his shield for the enemy while he chased the enemy in front of him with full force.

But this time, his shield couldn't hold up.

There was a cracking sound as the dwarf's shield split in two, utterly destroyed. Yet, as this posed no fatal threat, the berserk dwarf remained oblivious. He focused entirely on pursuing the enemy, the failed attack invigorating him to swing the warhammer even faster—the enemy's left arm, left shoulder, right arm, right leg... With the effects of the haste spell, Bruto achieved superhuman speed, executing four attacks in the span of two breaths. The undead knight, armed only with what amounted to a short cudgel, could offer no effective defense, his body being hammered into a grotesque shape; another man would've been dead.

However, it wasn't a man and felt no pain. Despite the dwarf's rapid assault, it remained calm, maneuvering its body to avoid getting its head—a vital spot—smashed by the mighty warhammer.

Adjacent, the other companions also fought desperately. Tanya alone clashed with an undead knight, seemingly at a slight disadvantage, while Alamir and Barrend jointly contended with another enemy, which still overwhelmed them despite their two-on-one advantage. If not for the old dwarf occasionally shielding the elf priest using healing divine art, one of them might have already fallen.

The last close-combat fighter was young Isha, but she wasn't suited for such frontal combat scenarios, and Kalalin needed protection. Moreover, the girl had another crucial responsibility—if the situation became untenable, she was to call for reinforcements.

Meanwhile, at the center of the battlefield, the undead knight who had stayed out of the fight seemed to have made a decision, planning to eliminate the greatest threat, the dwarf. It drew its black longsword silently, aiming at Bruto's back, maintaining utter quietness, unaware that the berserk dwarf was completely oblivious to the impending strike.

At this critical moment, an arrow flew from an unknown direction, hitting the black blade, causing it to deviate while simultaneously creating a sound alerting the dwarf. Driven by instinct, Bruto turned just in time to evade the strike, though unaware someone had saved his life.

Seconds later, dozens of strange gray figures rushed out from the forest, charging at the undead warriors surrounding everyone. Their naked skin was as hard as rock, and blades added only minor cuts from which little blood seeped, as if they were corpses long-drained of blood; yet their strength was astonishing, easily tearing apart blocking zombies with bare hands, though their movements held a subtle weirdness.

"Who are you?!" The Baroness, overwhelmed with shock and anger, scanned the surroundings, "How dare you disrupt..."

She had lightning flickering in her hands, ready to hurl it at the enemy, but when she finally spotted the target, she suddenly froze—a beautiful woman holding a longbow stood dozens of feet away, gazing at her with enchanting, emerald green eyes... and a head of hair ending in fierce serpent heads.

The Mage felt a strange prickling sensation in her limbs; she knew very well what it meant: the sign of petrification starting to take effect.