The Paladin in the Abyss

Lancelot, sitting on the sled, suddenly looked animated, his mouth moved slightly, not making any sound, but the giant wolves pulling the sled immediately began to slow down.

"Enemies?" Bruto was no longer surprised by such occurrences and immediately drew out his hammer.

"Ahead, there are two groups of Frost Giants battling," Lancelot nodded. "Let's have a look."

A short while later, everyone heard the sounds of battle drifting from the blizzard. It included the familiar roars of Frost Giants during combat, the whooshing noise of boulders flying through the air, the muffled clangs of blunt weapons against armor, as well as some strange noises they had never heard before.

The sled stopped before a small hill. Cautiously, everyone climbed to the snow-covered summit and peered down below.

They saw about twenty Frost Giants fiercely fighting in a valley three hundred feet away. It was easy to distinguish the two sides. One group wore patchwork armor and wielded weapons made of bone or stone, similar to the Frost Giant raiding party they had encountered a few days ago; the other group was much better equipped, wearing chainmails sized for a giant's stature, wielding metal-forged battle axes or great swords, and most of them bore blue and white double-edged axe emblems on their gear.

In the fray were a few particularly special figures. Their bare bodies were covered with ice-blue rune tattoos. They rhythmically tapped small drums attached to their waists or struck shields with the weapons in their hands, all the while loudly reciting some sort of rhythmic long poem in Giant's Tongue.

Lancelot's Spirit Perception detected clear magic fluctuations; the Frost Giants were obviously influenced by the recitation. They appeared faster, stronger, and more resilient than normal, and their tolerance to pain was also heightened, which made the battle overall more bloody and brutal.

"The better-equipped ones must be loyal to the god of the Frost Giants," Reap, who had returned to human form, quietly informed everyone. "See that double-edged axe emblem? That's the emblem of Solheim."

"And what's with those guys reciting poetry on the battlefield?" Bruto pointed out. "Does it help them survive longer?"

"Those are Sikoude, the bardic poets of the Frost Giants. As representatives of deities and the Abyssal Lord, they play the roles of priests and bishops in Frost Giant society," Alamir, the Elf who also had extensive knowledge about giants, explained. "They can use magic power for speeches and singing, which can inspire allies, weaken enemies, or even manipulate minds. As you see, under their influence, the other Frost Giants fight like they are possessed, with no fear of death."

"Sounds can be used to cast spells?" Lancelot couldn't help but ask, genuinely surprised.

"Of course, bardic poets release supernatural forces by controlling melody and rhythm, similar to how magicians perform Incantation. But this technique is impossible for those without the gift," Alamir answered with a smile, glancing meaningfully at the Dwarf. "You must have heard various myths of creation, right? Most of them share a similar notion: the world initially was pure chaos, the deities used words to create fundamental concepts like above and below, light and dark, shaping the Multiverse itself. The bards believe that the 'Words of Creation' still echo throughout the void and their art is a manipulation of these echoes to weave corresponding spells and power."

"This... sounds quite incredible." Lancelot was about to instinctively object but then considered the bamboo slips left by Han Tianzun, which also described the characteristics of high-level Spiritual Cultivators resonating with the Tao and their ability to cast spells with their words, right?

"The theory certainly doesn't equate to truth, but the fact that the voices of wandering poets possess magic power is true," Alamir shrugged his shoulders. "If there is a wandering poet among the enemies, you must find a way to take him out first, even if there are Mages or Magicians as well. Because as opponents, their voices can sometimes be really, really annoying."

"Understood." Lancelot nodded his head, and so did little Isha lying behind him. Talking about frontal combat; she could probably only beat Kalalin, but the young Wanderer had already reversed the situation more than once in battles, making her as important to the team as any other member.

"What on earth are they saying?" Bruto squinted his eyes, observing the battle below. "Damn it, I even took a course in Giant's Tongue, and I gave it all back to the teacher..."

"Just now, they were singing praises of the heroic deeds of Solheim and Kostcheqi," Alamir shrugged his shoulders. "Now one side is boasting about the Prince of Wrath stealing the warhammer from Solheim's hands, while the other is insulting them by calling them the Mog from Mog, lower than the stinking Trolls."

"You can see both sides are pretty angry—look at that one, his brain's spilling out yet he doesn't stop..." Bruto shrugged his shoulders. "Which side do you think will win?"

"Certainly the side loyal to Solheim," Lancelot answered decisively.

"Why?" the Dwarf surprisedly turned slightly. "The subordinates of the Prince of Wrath have a numerical advantage..."

"But their opponents have an excellent commander." Lancelot pointed towards a special figure in the midst of the melee. "That female Frost Giant—her right flank is holding off more enemies by defending with full force, while her left flank is using the advantage of similar numbers and superior equipment to quickly kill the opposite side. Kostcheqi's minions are falling faster, and once the numbers on both sides level out, the battle will end in a one-sided manner, probably in just a few more minutes..."

"A female Frost Giant?"

Everyone was only interested in Lancelot's first sentence. Following the direction of Lancelot's pointing, they saw a Frost Giant warrior woman who was slightly shorter (but still about 19 feet tall). She had bright golden hair and deep blue eyes. She wore a necklace that seemed to be made of wolf fangs around her neck, and even by human standards, her face was beautiful. She wore a very comfortable-looking wolf pelt cape on her shoulders and a leather long skirt suitable for movement. Proudly exposed at her waist were well-defined abs, and a pair of light blue, spiritually glowing boots made her steps extremely light.

Under everyone's gaze, the female Frost Giant let out a roar, fiercely swinging her double-edged axe towards the enemies in front of her. The Battle Axe emitted a loud thunderous sound as it collided with the opponent's weapon, and a dazzling electrical arc burst from the blade, striking the Frost Giant who was taller than her and sending him flying backwards.

"My God, a Thunderous Strike from the Storm Domain!" Alamir whispered in awe, "She's a Priest!"