The Paladin in the Abyss - Chapter 243 - Chapter 243: Chapter 237: Synod Holy Land

Chapter 243: Chapter 237: Synod Holy Land

“`

“Their punishment will continue for a hundred days and nights, I am sorry, but we have always been troubled by a shortage of guards, so we must keep them alive,” the corrupt cultivator under the cloak explained to the dwarf, “But rest assured, I guarantee that this punishment is much more painful than it looks–soon enough some wild demons will find these two fools, they will constantly tear at their flesh, and the energy from Skeleton Tower will sustain these two prisoners’ lives.”

“Uh, there doesn’t seem to be any need to go to such extremes…” The scene described by the cloaked person turned the dwarf pale, “I think these screams are just too piercing, let’s hurry up and get them to stop…”

“Ah, I am so sorry, that was an oversight…”

With a raise of the hand from the cloaked figure, suddenly several bone spurs extended, piercing through each cheek of the stout demon and into its mouth, effectively silencing the demon’s screams.

“How about that?”

Lancelot patted Bruto’s shoulder, gently shaking his head, the dwarf opened his mouth, but in the end, said nothing.

The group passed through the withered yellow portal, finding themselves in a spacious hall filled with sofas and long benches. Through the window behind them, they could see the magnificent Blood River waterfall, with Mogrondale City not far below them.

“Welcome back, this is the lounge for our visitors, and usually only the Lords of Withering come here,” said the cloaked figure who had led them, nodding to the group, “Sir Lancelot, would you accompany me to the resting place of the Eye of Sarizdon?”

“There’s no need to go to any trouble, I can give it to you right now.” Lancelot removed the vine ball hanging at his waist, and tossed it directly to the cloaked figure, “We’d like a map to the deeper planes of the Abyss, this small request should be fulfillable, right?”

The cloaked figure caught the thrown Divine Artifact, his movements somewhat frantic, his hands even trembling slightly as he held the artifact.

“This is indeed a very reasonable request,” the cloaked person bowed again to Lancelot, “but we are eager to know the answers to some questions. There are rumors about ‘The Great Arbitrator’ Satugura that are quite unsettling, and we would like to get some information from you directly. This should not take up too much of your time, and your companions can rest here for a while.”

“Alright.”

Lancelot nodded, considering that they indeed owed someone who usually appeared in the guise of a halfling, he figured he might as well firmly shoulder this blame.

Lancelot followed the cloaked cultivator up the stairs leading to higher levels. They climbed several floors, and the area really did resemble a monastery or a deserted meditation room, or a library stacked with scrolls and books. Occasionally, they would encounter a few other cultivators, all enshrouded in their robes, who showed great respect towards the person guiding Lancelot, obviously that person held a high position among them.

Finally, the two arrived at a heavily guarded staircase, with several robed cultivators standing on the stairs. Unlike the others, these figures had peculiar weapons that resembled short-handled scythes at their waists and were taller, exuding a stronger aura than the average cloaked person.

Upon seeing the cloaked person leading Lancelot, they promptly saluted in unison, and one of them asked respectfully:

“Great Grandmaster, do you have any instructions?”

To Lancelot’s surprise, the voice obviously belonged to a woman, though as old as the creaking sound of a rotting coffin lid being lifted. The cloaked person leading Lancelot merely nodded, meanwhile raising the vine ball in hand, and spoke:

“`

“I have come to return the Divine Artifact to the Holy Land.”

“Has the Divine Artifact been found?” The voice of the female cultivator sounded quite surprised, but she glanced back at Lancelot and asked hesitantly, “And who might this be?”

“He is Sir Lancelot from Twin Bridges Town, the next Lord of Withering from the Spraying Fields. I’d like to have a private word with him, if that’s alright?”

As soon as he spoke, the robed figures in front of Lancelot showed noticeable unrest, as if the human knight were a famously renowned figure. He himself was rather puzzled by this, What kind of rumors had Pakos been spreading about him, and why did they seem so preposterous?

“Of course, that’s not a problem. Please come in.”

The robed cultivators on the steps made way, and Lancelot followed the figure known as the Great Grandmaster up the stairs and into a completely dark hall.

With the vision of a human knight, he could naturally see through the darkness. The hall was arranged like a Hall of the Gods, with benches meant for the prayers of the faithful filling the vicinity, and in the center of the hall was a high platform made of three large stones, with a spherical recess in the middle, which was now empty.

The Great Grandmaster walking in front of him held the Eye of Sarezdon in his hand. Suddenly, a black flame rose, igniting the vines on the surface of the artifact in a peculiar way–they withered and decayed at a visibly rapid pace, turning into ash within a few breaths and scattering into the air.

The Eye of Sarezdon emitted its unique black light, allowing Lancelot to see normally without the need for dark vision.

“Eh?”

The Great Grandmaster in front made a strange light exclamation, the reason for which Lancelot actually knew well: If the intensity of the black light emitted by the artifact before was like a torch, it was now no more than a candle. But at that moment, he could only play dumb and asked:

“What’s the matter? Is there a problem?”

The robed figure did not answer him but instead hurried forward two steps, placed the artifact in the recess of the high platform in the center of the hall, and then recited an indistinct spell, as Lancelot sensed a strange magical fluctuation.

With a deep humming sound, fine red lines appeared inside the black bead. The robed person also patted the giant stones that made up the platform and red beams shot out from the stones, scattered by the artifact itself, projecting various complex patterns onto the ceiling of the hall.

Lancelot looked up and saw that it was the structural diagram of the Great Abyss, only the image concocted by these corrupt cultivators was flat, while he could now gain the same perspective he had when he first infused True Yuan into the Eye of Sarizdon by extending his Divine Sense into the black speck on his wrist.

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“Why is it like this?”

The robed cultivator frowned while looking at the patterns on the ceiling, clearly dissatisfied with the situation. He muttered to himself and then started reciting strange spells, releasing several spells in succession, which finally made the diagram on the ceiling a bit clearer.

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