The Paladin in the Abyss

The dwarves hesitated, exchanging glances, and after a deep discussion, three of them were pushed to the front of Lancelot. They seemed about the same age as Barrend but, unlike most of those present, they still wore blacksmith aprons instead of donned armor.

"We were the last to be transported here!" one of them said loudly, "We didn't hear the gathering alert, and by the time we realized something was wrong and rushed to the street, everyone had already vanished!"

"Did you notice Tijana's situation at that time?"

"What?" The dwarf roared, "My ears aren't very good!"

"No wonder..."

Lancelot shook his head and repeated his question, this time using True Qi to send the words directly to the dwarf's ear.

"Oh, oh, I heard it clearly!" Another dwarven artisan stomped his foot joyfully, "Of course, we noticed her. She was so bright in the sky! The last scene we saw was Grazzt charging in mid-air and throwing his Great Sword from a distance. The sword pierced straight through Lady Tijana, and she had no reaction, as if she was merely an illusion... Afterward, blue light appeared on us, and the next second we were here in this temple."

"Is that all?" Lancelot looked disappointedly at the others, "Does anyone know what happened next?"

A thousand dwarves began whispering to each other, making Lancelot feel as though he was standing in the market district of Twin Bridges Town, yet no one stepped forward to tell him what happened afterward.

"Big brother, could it be that sister-in-law... escaped?" Bruto nudged Lancelot gently with his elbow, "She's such a powerful spellcaster, she might have used some magic to fool Grazzt and is now hiding somewhere, laughing!"

"Thanks for the comfort..." Lancelot sighed lightly and turned to Kalalin, "What do you think?"

"I'm sad to say, but she did not survive." Kalalin shook his head, "That flame ignited from the soul can instantly turn the flesh to ashes. If Tijana merely cast an illusion, there was still a good chance to escape, but..."

"There are a thousand pieces of evidence here, proving she indeed ignited her soul." Lancelot nodded knowingly, "On the bright side, it also means she wasn't captured by Grazzt, which is a fate worse than death. Kalalin, I have another question, will those flames completely destroy her soul?"

"Strictly speaking, Tijana, as a Tanari, her essence beneath the flesh is her Demon Essence, we call it a soul just because we are more familiar with that concept," Kalalin rubbed his chin, "Truth be told, what we know about Demon Essence is very limited, but based on known information, it shares some commonalities with the human soul, such as being a carrier of memory, emotion, and supernatural power."

"The waters of the Stygian River can make people forget, repeated stimulation to the flesh can drain emotions, and spellcasters have various forbidden methods to exhaust the soul's power. However, destroying one aspect doesn't affect the other two, and we all know, even the gods cannot destroy a soul, they can only alter or ultimately merge with a soul through various means."

"As for demons, as long as a small portion of their essence is sealed beforehand, they can revive after being killed. So, I speculate those flames won't prevent your succubus lover's revival or erase her memory of you, though she's likely lost all her power, upon revival she'll be no different from an ordinary succubus in strength. Considering she relies on innate talent rather than learned manipulation of magic power as a magician, I reason she'll never regain her past spellcasting ability..."

"I understand." Lancelot nodded, "If this is indeed the case, it also explains why we haven't heard news of her reviving even after so long. Perhaps she's actually reborn but has to lay low due to the loss of most of her powers, avoiding being targeted by Lokgrazt or other enemies."

"Every person under this roof will forever remember Lady Tijana's sacrifice." Priest Witt solemnly promised, "Sir Lancelot, tell us what we should do to avenge our lady?"

"I'm sure Tijana paid such a huge price to transport you from death's door, hoping you wouldn't expend your lives for her," Lancelot waved his hand, "Moreover, thinking carefully, her intention to hide also means preventing enemies from learning your whereabouts through her. You know how to mine ore, smelt metal, smith armor, and weapons; you're the greatest asset of Twin Bridges Town. In the eyes of those demon lords, you're more tempting than pure souls, they dream of having a group like you as slaves, continuously providing weapons and equipment for their demon armies..."

Lancelot suddenly paused, the expression on his face seemed as if he understood something.

"I finally know what Tijana wants me to do." The human knight stood up, his gaze sweeping over every dwarf within the temple, "She wants me to send you back to your hometowns, or at least leave this hostile plane, keeping you from the enslavement by other demon lords..."

His words were like water splashing into a pan of boiling oil, instantly causing the temple to erupt. The dwarves engaged in their fiercest argument yet, some wept with joy at the prospect of going home, others were skeptical of Lancelot's declaration, and some even swore they wouldn't leave until Twin Bridges Town was reclaimed, calling those excited people traitors and cowards.

Lancelot watched the scene with helplessness. Though dwarves were said to be an orderly race, it seemed their time in the Abyssal Plane had been quite long. Just then, his peripheral vision caught something peculiar—a ceremonial Blacksmith Hammer on the Iron Anvil used as a shrine was slowly rising into the air, as if an invisible hand was raising it.

The human knight raised an eyebrow, certain no one stood there.

The hammer paused a moment at its peak before crashing down, creating an extraordinary clang on the Iron Anvil. That sound awakened the memory in the blood of every dwarf present, it was the noise when the creator forged their ancestors. Then, the Blacksmith Hammer rose again, but instead of striking, it flew towards Lancelot, stopping in front of him, as if awaiting his acceptance of some invitation.

'Dear, I hope I didn't misinterpret your intent...'

Lancelot murmured in his heart, then lifted his arm and took hold of the Blacksmith Hammer.