The Paladin in the Abyss

Chapter 374: 388: Front Somersault

Chapter 374: Chapter 388: Front Somersault

The demons were taken aback by the force of the succubus’s charge. How could such a creature, seemingly only keen on playing pranks and seducing mortals into decadence, be so fierce? And why was its weapon a longsword rather than a whip?

Despite their astonishment, the Brezu demons didn’t feel fear in their hearts. However, they still adopted a more cautious strategy: they leaped backward, dragging their weapons in front of them, ready to counterattack the moment their enemy’s strike missed.

Lancelot inwardly commended his opponent’s response. Most creatures in the Abyss had muscles developed to a grotesque degree but rarely possessed the skill to wield those muscles effectively. The ram-headed Brezu demons were an exception.

If it had been the old him, he would have adopted the standard swordsmanship response: a low sweep to ward off the opponent’s lower strike followed by an upward jab and then a returning Horizontal Slash. If the enemy dared to press the attack recklessly, this move could make them pay dearly; and if the enemy gave up on counterattacking, both parties would return to an even stance.

The only problem was, by doing so he would have lost the advantage of his charge and being one against two, reaching a stalemate with one enemy was meaningless.

The greatest enhancement from Foundation Establishment was in the strengthening of the body, allowing him to turn techniques that once existed only in his imagination into reality. After his strike missed, Lancelot didn’t slow down at all. The tip of his sword supported him against the ground as he flipped forward, completely avoiding the enemy’s jab and the other demon’s Horizontal Slash.

...

He spun nearly half a circle in the air, then viciously kicked out, hitting the ram-headed demon square in the face. Although his war boots had been transformed into sandals by the effect of the Transforming Ring, their mithril composition hadn’t changed. Combined with the momentum of the charge and Lancelot’s own strength, the Brezu demon’s head exploded like a flowerpot hit by a slingstone, and the dark purple brains, like clods of dirt from the pot, maintained their rough shape as they spun away.

Lancelot’s other foot kicked the demon’s chest, sending the headless corpse flying far away. He then rolled on the ground, dodging another slash from behind.

Yes, despite the Mother of Demons’ castle being here, the ruler of this level was not Cang Ye. The Mother of Demons hardly ever left her Bone Castle, and Baphoment did not interfere with matters within Cang Ye’s territory. The two Abyssal Lords had never officially established an alliance, but if either was attacked within the endless labyrinth, the other would lend a hand.

Tijana had already told Lancelot that the Mother of Demons was not in the castle, and he had also overheard the conversation between the two patrolling tempter demons. From the information at hand, it was apparent that the demonic side was very well-prepared this time, and while the Protectors were on alert, they were still thinking along the same lines—trying to obtain the demons’ battle plans, distinguishing which force was the main thrust and which was a feint, then making targeted deployments and concentrating their superior forces...

But there were no feints; every route was a main assault. The forces of good in Androlina were bound to suffer greatly this time, and there was even the risk of annihilation.

Would Lancelot sacrifice his life to protect those innocent Aira children? Elothysia might, but he would not, at least not when there was no hope of victory. However, in ensuring the safety of himself and his companions, he was very willing to exert his utmost effort to seize every possibility of turning the tide.

Through his Spirit Perception, he sensed a large number of demons surging up the spiral staircase he had just passed, now less than two hundred feet away from him.

The goat-headed demon opposite him continued to curse incessantly, at one moment demanding his surrender, and at another describing the various tortures the captured succubus would suffer, but his feet were constantly moving toward Lancelot’s left, trying to occupy a better angle. Lancelot’s body suddenly sank into a low crouch, readying for attack, and his opponent immediately froze, watching his every move intently.

This was a very standard swordsman duel, something Lancelot was all too familiar with. Generally, rookies would blindly rush to attack, while experienced warriors would prefer to defend first, waiting for their opponent to expose a weakness then strike to kill, which is why battlefields often saw two “tin cans” staring each other down for a long time, neither wanting to make the first move.

But for a veteran like Lancelot, there were plenty of ways to make the defender commit a mistake, like a feint that demanded a response.

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