The Paladin in the Abyss

Two days later.

Lancelot and his companions carefully hid atop a small mountain, overlooking the fierce battlefield below. The Gate of Stroddet was about two miles away from the mountain peak they were on. Although it was evening, the wind and snow had nearly ceased, allowing everyone to clearly see the situation on the plains.

The portal that connected to the Land of Warriors was different from any they had seen before. It wasn't a traditional 'door' but rather seemed like an area where two planes overlapped in some way. Within a radius of about a thousand feet, figures of Frost Giants would appear and disappear erratically, the unstable magic effect flinging them from one plane to another.

But make no mistake, those Frost Giants certainly didn't come here by accident. They appeared in groups of three to five with defensive formations, carrying large shields to fend off stone projectile attacks, and immediately rushed out of the portal area.

The Frost Giants loyal to Kostcheqi obeyed the Prince of Wrath's orders, actively hunting down enemies emerging from the portal. In theory, being on the defensive side and knowing the exact area where enemies would appear should have given them an absolute advantage. However, the low level of their organization made Lancelot shake his head in dismay, as they turned what should have been a defensive battle into a chaotic skirmish.

The Frost Giants who worshipped demons seemed to operate in units based on clans, forming teams as few as several or at most dozens of members, each fighting independently. Even if a team was idle and another team was battling right beside them, they would not lend a hand. At first, Lancelot thought this was due to some kind of Frost Giant code of honor. However, they would join the fight immediately after their compatriots were wiped out, as if those who had just died were not comrades but competitors for glory.

In contrast, the Frost Giants who worshipped Solheim were very resolute. They came here with a mindset to glorify their deity, fully prepared for sacrifice. About half of them fought to the death, while the other half escaped into the vast snowy wilderness with the cover of their companions.

The casualty ratio between the two sides reached a staggering one to five. In Lancelot's view, with nearly half of the attackers breaking through, it was a complete failure for the defenders. But the minions of the Abyssal Lord only cared about how many enemies they killed. As for those who escaped... what escaped? Don't you see the mountain of bodies before me?

"These giants' tactical accomplishments are just too poor..." Even Bruto couldn't help complaining, "Surely even a gnoll commanding would not have made things worse, right?"

"Funny you say that, the gnolls think so too," Alamir shrugged his shoulders, "The individual strength of giants has fostered their arrogant nature to the extent that, after the fall of the Giant Empire, their civilization regressed nearly to primitive levels, never again to rebuild its former glory. In a way, this is also a stroke of luck for us smaller races."

"Lancelot, what are you thinking about?" Kalalin, noticing the focused Human Knight, curiously asked, "If it were you commanding, how would you arrange the defensive line?"

"Do I look like a gnoll general to you?" Lancelot replied with a wounded gaze at the Scholar, "I'm pondering the plight of those loyal to Solheim. Although they have higher tactical acumen, it seems they likewise lack a unified commanding leader. Otherwise, they could avoid nearly half of these casualties. As it stands, this hardly looks like an organized invasion."

"What the hell is that Frost Giant god Solheim doing?" Bruto said somewhat indignantly, "Doesn't he care about the lives and deaths of his followers at all?"

"The gods worshiped by a race often share a high degree of similarity with the traits of the race itself. Although I know nothing about the Frost Giants' god beyond His name, I'm certain that He must be an extremely selfish, cold-hearted deity," as a member of the divine office, Alamir spoke with authority on such topics, "To Him, the death of a few believers probably doesn't matter. He might even secretly encourage such fanatical 'Tao' behaviors."

"He doesn't care, so I have to..."

Lancelot Morassa stroked his chin, pondering various possible countermeasures. Only the area around the Gate of Stroddet where they were currently located had some undulating hills; in all other directions lay open snowfields, with virtually no terrain to take advantage of, and the defenders had not built any permanent fortifications. If a large-scale battle ensued, it would be a classic field encounter.

However, with a serious disadvantage in numbers, for the attackers to opt for a full frontal assault would be suicidal. Even if Lancelot took command of the Frost Giants, at best, he would use more precise orders to reduce the casualties while covering the retreat of his allies.

"If those Frost Giants that broke out could rally and launch a pincer attack with the later arrivals, there might just be a glimmer of hope for victory," Lancelot finally concluded, "And once we control the Portal, the Frost Giants from the upper planes could march directly to the Glacial Fortress..."

"But who could command those escaped Frost Giants?" Alamir shook his head, "Aside from Solheim himself, I don't think there's anyone who can do so. Although those Frost Giants came here to glorify their god, most of them only take orders from the leaders of their own clans."

"What about the one they've got locked up?" Bruto suggested, "What's his name again, Gorgiad, right? As Solheim's brother, does he have that kind of clout?"

"He does, but if we can't control the Gate of Stroddet, where would we get the forces to assault the fortress that's holding the demi-god?" Alamir shook his head helplessly, "And to control the Portal, we need Gorgiad back in power... Doesn't that become a chicken-and-egg problem?"

"Let's not rush to piece together a conclusion before we've gathered every piece of the puzzle," Lancelot said gently shaking his head, "We've seen enough here, and it's about to be totally dark. Let's go back to the cave we found earlier to rest. Tonight, I'll set up concealment spells and Portals Runes with Kalalin. Tomorrow morning, we'll set out to check the situation at the Gorgiad Fortress."

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In the dead of night, Lancelot sat cross-legged in the dark cave, focused on circulating the Cauldron Immortal Technique and absorbing the Spiritual Energy that meandered between heaven and earth. Suddenly, his eyes snapped open as he sensed the presence of a powerful creature entering his range of Spirit Perception. The sensation was even familiar... Was it someone passing by unintentionally?

A few moments later, Lancelot's expression turned grave. Although alone, the individual was definitely and unmistakably approaching his cave. After a brief reflection, he folded up the entrance to the demi-plane, stowed it away, took out his weapon, and stood up to walk towards the cave entrance.