The Paladin in the Abyss

In a certain moment, those Memory Crystals that glowed with seven-colored light suddenly extinguished simultaneously, as if a basin of cold water had been poured over a burning heap of embers. At the same time, everyone experienced a very peculiar sensation, one that felt familiar and reminded them of their previous encounter in the Domain of the Vague.

It was an aura belonging solely to the gods.

For most mortals, life is filled with elements related to gods—Amulets, Holy Water, Priests, speeches, flyers, and the like, but almost no one has ever truly seen a True God, at least not while alive. However, Lancelot and his companions were evidently exceptions. If you counted the Saint of the Frost Maiden, Olul, they had already seen three True Gods, and were about to see a fourth.

Therefore, it could be said that this group had gained some experience. They neither kneeled in terrified reverence nor deliberately displayed a fearless demeanor. Instead, they stood solemnly, their hands clasped honestly in front of them. When they saw the figure walking out from the pile of black crystals, they respectfully bowed to express their reverence.

"No need for such formalities." A low, elegant voice, entirely different from Tanya's, echoed before them, "Please, raise your heads."

Lancelot raised his head, subtly scrutinizing the legendary figure before him. The first thing he noticed was that the Raven Queen had sapphire-like eyes, wore an elegant dark blue gown, and even her hair was dark blue, contrary to his previous imagination of her with raven-black hair. Besides, the Raven Queen looked extremely beautiful, possessing typical Elven traits—pointed ears, a slender face, and slightly protruding brow bones, though the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes hinted that she was no longer young.

"Finally, we meet, Sir Lancelot." The Raven Queen nodded towards the Human Knight, "I've known you for a long time through Tanya. You are a very capable warrior and have helped us a lot, for which I am deeply grateful."

"The highest honor," Lancelot bowed again. After a moment's thought, he couldn't help but ask, "Tanya, she now…?"

"I am here…" The Half-elf emerged from behind the Raven Queen, "Haha, thank you all for worrying. I'm fine."

"Oh, oh…" Lancelot couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. The pressure from the True God was truly too strong; he felt as if he were standing before a blazing sun, unable to sense anything else through Spirit Perception, "I thought you…"

"Were sacrificed?" Tanya winked at him, "The mentor wouldn't do such a thing..."

"Who says I wouldn't?" The Raven Queen gave her disciple a sidelong glance, "I certainly would if necessary. However, I would place your Soul into a brand new body afterwards, but your memories would remain intact... Well, enough pleasantries. We should get going; the young Lord of the Dead is awaiting my rescue."

"Just a moment longer..." Lancelot turned his head to look at the Medusa standing to the side, "This is Madam Kesme. I promised her..."

The Raven Queen turned her head, frowning slightly as a green beam flew from her fingertips. Fortunately, the target wasn't the terrified Medusa, but the statue of the Baroness beside her. The statue instantly disintegrated into ashes, and a certain Essence contained within it was condensed by the Raven Queen into a fist-sized gemstone, which she lightly tossed into Lancelot's hand.

"How could you make such a mistake? This is the Demon's Domain. If the statue were accidentally broken, the Soul of this enemy would return to the hands of the Lord of the Demon's Domain. What you want to do with this Soul afterwards, whether you keep it yourself or hand it over to Cranvo, is up to you." The Raven Queen spoke in an almost emotionless tone, then turned her gaze to the terrified Medusa, "As for you... everything comes with a price, you know that, right?"

"Naturally." Medusa lowered her head deeply, "As long as you can lift the curse on me, I am willing to pay any price..."

"Any price? People always say that..." The Raven Queen revealed a somewhat mocking smile, "Only after losing it will you truly realize what you have paid. I can make a deal with you; you will get what you want, and I will take your memories—not all, just the happiest and the saddest parts. Will you trade with me?"

"I..."

"No need to rush, take your time to consider. You can also ask Cranvo for his terms." The Raven Queen's fingers began to rotate in the air, and a vortex-like Portal gradually emerged with her movements, "Now, let's go end this farce..."

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This was Bobby's third resurrection, and he had a vague premonition that it would be the last. If he fell again, he might never stand up to fight for the Lord of the Dead again. For this former gang member, there was no feeling of Fear; he now regarded it as his final destination, the end of a journey he didn't quite enjoy...

When death loses its mystery, it no longer instills Fear.

However, before that fated end arrives, Bobby wanted to make his life more valuable—by taking as many enemies as possible for the god he believed in. After many battles, his strength was now vastly different from what it was a day ago. His attacks were concise and precise, his defense steady and experienced. Ordinary skeletons and Zombies couldn't gain any advantage over him, and for those Undead Knights who could defeat him... Bobby had learned to temporarily evade, leaving them to those stronger than himself—like a recently appeared Knight clad in a heavy mask. His intuition told him this was another Undead being, but since the Knight was on their side, he was an ally.

As the battlefield moved closer to the Temple, Bobby could feel his strength increasing. Now, he could easily topple a tree with a diameter of a foot, or kick a hundred-pound rock out like a cannonball. His companions could do similar feats. He knew this was the power from the god, and with this strength, they successfully held back their enemies, preventing the Lich's army from advancing any further.

However, the Lich himself had not joined the battle so far. Seeing the stalemate, Peyton Derrick, who deemed himself the strongest Spellcaster in this land, decided to step in. He had been feeling a very bad sensation, with an increasingly impatient voice in his head urging him to act quickly, without realizing it wasn't his own voice.