The Paladin in the Abyss

As the roar erupted, a tall and a short figure charged towards the Berserk Demons.

Although it was their first time working together, they exhibited a good understanding — mainly Lancelot coordinating with Bruto. With a sturdy shield and powerful muscles, Bruto could directly block the Berserk Demons' bites and claws, smashing a few knees in his spare time, while Lancelot took care of protecting Bruto's flanks and rear, slashing off claws that Bruto didn't see, stabbing his sword into the mouths of giant toads, and stomping on the brains of the fallen Berserk Demons with his steel boots.

They had knocked down several Berserk Demons almost instantly, and just as they were about to clinch an overwhelming victory, suddenly, a piercing howl sounded from above.

This was an attack using sonic waves emitted by the wings of the Demon taskmaster, a sound so loud and sharp it was unbearable, forcing everyone to huddle and squat on the ground, trying to block out the maddening noise.

The Demons were much less affected, seizing the opportunity to break away from the fray. Demons have terrifying regeneration abilities; given a short period, severe injuries could become minor, but there weren't many giant toads left alive, and those remaining were almost crippled by Lancelot and the other Dwarves.

The Demon taskmaster, like a spider, crawled down the nearly vertical pit wall and moved towards Lancelot and Bruto.

As it drew nearer, the horrific sound waves it emitted became more intense, robbing people of the ability to resist and leaving them at its mercy. This ability was almost impossible to counter for the Mortal Races with hearing and required a higher level of strength to withstand. This is also why these humanoid fly-like Demons are often appointed as taskmasters; their terrible screeching could quickly quell any slave uprising.

It moved step by step towards Lancelot, this unexpected human. If not for him, the bold Dwarf would have been torn to shreds, a scenario proven multiple times to be very effective in boosting the work efficiency of the slaves.

As for the death of a Berserk Demon, it couldn't care less; after all, Berserk Demons were just cannon fodder. With a wave of their mighty hands and a bit of their seemingly inconsequential magic power, the Demon Lords could turn swathes of Coward Devils into Berserk Demons with screams of agony — they were then usually thrown into meat-grinder battles, resulting in Berserk Demons having the shortest average lifespan in the entire Demon Race, less than 24 hours.

It walked up to Lancelot, satisfied to see the human clutching his ears in a death grip, oblivious to the approach.

The humanoid fly Demon raised its head, its half-meter-long pointed beak gleaming with lethal cold light, ready to plunge into the throat of the man.

It glanced at its prey out of the corner of its eye, sensing that something was off. Although the man was covering his ears, his expression was not one of agony; in fact, the corners of his mouth were curling into a faint smile.

In that brief moment of its hesitation, an iron hand shot out like lightning, seizing it by the root of its beak.

Lancelot had actually used True Qi to block his ears from the start, and while it couldn't completely shield out the terrifying buzzer, it was at least no longer unbearable.

The Demon struggled violently in his grasp, but Lancelot's hand was like a clamp, holding it firmly in place.

He pulled down on the beak with his left hand, forcing the Demon's head to droop, then drew his sword with his right hand and swooped down in one motion to decapitate the Demon from its body.

The remaining few Berserk Demons, seeing this, let out a strange cry and fled clean away.

The decapitated body continued to flutter its wings, emitting that terrible screech, forcing Lancelot to chop off the pair of translucent wings as well.

The world finally fell silent.

When Bruto lifted his head, removing his hands from his own, the first thing he saw was Lancelot holding a head.

In his hand, he held the long beak of the Demon taskmaster, with the headless corpse of the fly Demon nearby, which had been the source of many months of suffering for the Dwarf slaves.

Seeing the Dwarves waking up, Lancelot tossed the long-beaked head over.

"This long beak seems quite sharp; is it possible to make it into a short sword or dagger or something?"

Bruto's gaze followed the rolling head on the ground, and he suddenly burst into tears. The crying spread like contagion, all the Dwarves began to wail loudly, their cries so heart-wrenching that Lancelot was left awkwardly unsure of what to do.

When the crying gradually subsided, Lancelot stepped forward and patted Bruto on the shoulder.

"Are you all right?"

"Waah... I... we... we're fine. Very... very sorry..."

Bruto ran off to check on his father. The old Dwarf was in good spirits, despite the nasty fall and the several lashes he had received, but judging by the volume of his crying, he seemed to be mostly unharmed.

Lancelot waited patiently on the side. He couldn't imagine what this group of Dwarves had been through, but in this terrifying world, losing one's freedom was definitely one of the most dreadful things.

After a while, Bruto came over supporting his father. The old Dwarf bowed deeply to Lancelot and said:

"Thank you, kind Sir. I am Barrend Frostforge, a Blacksmith. If not for you today, we wouldn't know how long our enslavement would have lasted, and my foolish son would surely have been dead."

Lancelot also returned a gesture:

"Your son shows great courage, and his glorious battle has inspired us all." Then, with a tinge of curiosity, he asked, "How do you know I am a knight? Do you have humans in your world, too?"

"My old man's craft is famous far and wide. We often get orders from the human kings," Bruto proudly interjected.

The old Dwarf gave his disrespectful son a punch on the head, a blow so powerful it seemed to kick up the dust on the ground, but Bruto appeared unfazed.

"In the world we come from, humans and Dwarves once fought each other, but a common enemy brought us together, and we formed a sacred alliance to fend off the Orcs and Goblins' attacks," Barrend explained. "Your full body armor indicates you're a nobleman, and among humans, nobles are addressed as 'Sir.'"

Lancelot nodded in understanding and continued to ask:

"Could you tell me of your experiences? To be honest, I've only been in this world for a day, and I have many questions."

Upon hearing this, Bruto and Barrend's eyes widened and the outspoken Bruto exclaimed:

"Judging by your fighting, we thought you were the legendary Abyssal Ranger."

At this, Lancelot grew curious:

"Abyssal Ranger? What is that?"

"A good person wandering in the Abyss," shrugged Bruto.

"Some are forced to flee here yet are fortunate enough not to lose their freedom, like you," the old Dwarf said, sighing. "The Abyss is a dangerous place, but it can also easily make one stronger. Those who gain power here yet refuse to fall are called Abyssal Rangers. But you must understand, such individuals are few and far between, and they mostly lead a life in hiding."

By then, the other surviving Dwarves had also gathered around, thanking Lancelot, with Barrend introducing them one by one:

"This is Adrick, this is his brother Adbeke, and these three are Delg, Dain, and Darak..."

"We wanted to forge a warhammer as a gift for the coronation of the new King. I organized this mining team to enter an ancient mine in hopes of finding the finest Mithril Ore."

"We knew the dangers deep within the mine, but that was the only place where Mithril Ore could still be found."

"Deep underground, we found what we were looking for. In fact, we discovered an entire vein of Mithril Ore, and everyone was so excited that they forgot the repeated admonitions of the Miners' Guild before we set out."

"There wasn't much left to mine inside, and if a new vein was discovered, what we should have done was to leave quickly, not linger on."

"Just as you humans cannot resist the temptation of gold, we Dwarves also cannot step away when we discover a precious ore vein. By the time we came to our senses, the mine behind us had disappeared."

"The Demons that roam the underground quickly found us; they seem to frequently capture such unlucky fellows. They didn't tear us to pieces on the spot, but instead brought us to a steel fortress on the surface, where our slavery began."

"There, we saw a large number of other slaves, most of them Dwarves but also humans, Elves, and even Orcs and Goblins. A Demon with huge wings was our master; it drove us to collect ores and forge equipment for it, until one day a more powerful Demon Lord came and hung its corpse on the city walls, and we had a new master."

"Such events happened every few months. We've been in this world for over a year, right up until we met you."

Lancelot nodded sympathetically, consoling:

"The days of hardship are finally over. We will surely find a way back to our original world."

"That's almost impossible," the old Dwarf's eyes darkened. "We once met an Elf who was a well-learned Scholar before he became a slave. He told us that the Abyssal Plane is beneath all the Main Planes, like a rubbish bin, the destination for all evil, fallen souls. Descending from the upper planes through portals is quite easy. Any careless Mage might accidentally open a portal to the Abyssal Plane, but ascending from a lower plane to an upper one is very difficult, requiring the strength of at least a Demigod to achieve."

Lancelot was also struck by this news, but he immediately thought that with his own practice of the Spiritual Cultivation Tao, there might be a glimmer of hope.

"That Elf may not be entirely correct; there might be other methods he doesn't know of," Lancelot tried to sound more upbeat. "What are your plans now?"

A small debate quickly broke out among the Dwarves, but Barrend eventually persuaded everyone.

"We plan to head to Twin Bridges Town."