The Paladin in the Abyss

"By Moradin's long beard! I effing hit a big hammer!" After coming out of the Dimensional Bag, Bruto was instantly shocked by the surrounding scene, repeatedly exclaiming in horror, "What in the blazes is this damned place?"

"This is the corpse pit," the Werewolf patted the young Dwarf's shoulder, "I warned you, get used to it."

In fact, that Bruto could still swear was quite impressive. Aside from old Reap who had been here before, all the others fell into a state of severe shock, staring blankly around them, shocked into a loss of speech by this overwhelmingly impactful scene.

The most strongly affected were Alamir and Vito. These two good-aligned priests were shaking violently, seemingly driven to the brink of madness by this mountain of evidence of sin.

Lancelot silently exercised the Ice Heart Technique and gently coughed.

The voice, carrying True Qi, was like the tolling of a bell in a desolate valley, awakening those in a state of shock.

"How on earth was this place formed?" Kalalin muttered, the trembling in his voice betraying the fear in his heart.

"To prevent slaves from escaping, slavers nailed the cages tight during transport, not opening them until they arrived at Oasis Fort. When they finally reached the fort, often times less than half of the slaves in the cages were still alive. And those who died along the way..." the Werewolf said grimly, stamping his foot, "their bodies were thrown here."

"May the souls of these sufferers find peace with their gods," Alamir said with a face full of sorrow. He worshipped Shuni, the God of Love, who under the lady's blessing celebrated the beauty of love, and these victims naturally could no longer taste the flavor of love.

"Rest in the embrace of the Father God, my fellow brethren," Vito crouched on the ground, sadly caressing a skull that clearly belonged to a Dwarf. Such thick-topped skulls were common; because of the Dwarves' exceptional skills in stonemasonry and forging, they were the slave race most favored by the Demon Lord.

It is said that Tijana did not attempt to enslave Dwarves at the very start of Twin Bridges Town, perhaps only Succubi, a rare type of Demon not dominated by the desire for destruction, could understand that enslavement is the least efficient form of rule.

The gaze of the people gradually cleared, but the surrounding scene was so oppressive that no one really wanted to talk.

"Wahaha! Finally, some living people! Hello there! Need any help?"

Just then, a creaking voice suddenly emerged, startling everyone.

Lancelot looked in the direction from which the voice came and saw a metallically gleaming skull hovering there out of thin air. Experience new tales on empire

It seemed that the skull was the one talking. It looked no different from a typical human skull, yet instead of magical flames in its eye sockets, it had a pair of eyes that appeared quite normal. The eyes, unfleshed, were as large as chicken eggs, but this gave it more of a living creature's sense, making it seem less horrifying.

Seeing Lancelot looking over, the skull swayed back and forth in the air, as if waving a hand. The skull's mandible kept opening and closing, and the voice they had just heard floated out of its mouth.

"Let's see, we have a human with a Transformation Ring, a Dwarf wielding a hammer, a Halfling clutching a weapon, an Elf with the holy emblem of the fiery-haired lady, as well as a Goblin and a half-Werewolf! You must be an Adventurer team, right? This is great! Just great!"

"What are you... exactly?" Lancelot asked cautiously.

"What you want to ask is what kind of thing I am," the skull said, using its only moveable jawbone and eyeballs to make a laughing expression. "I'm undoubtedly dead, but I must have once been alive, and quite possibly did something unforgivably evil to have ended up like this."

"Are you a Mimir?" Kalalin suddenly asked, "I've heard of such creatures. It's said that at the center of all realms, in a place where Divine Power can't tread, there's a massive circular city like a labyrinth. In it, there are many skulls floating in mid-air, serving as... guides."

"Mark City is hardly the center of all realms. Only those who have never been there would think so. It's at best a toll station at a crossroads," the skull said with a contemptuous tone.

"I've heard about this thing too," the Goblin Phil said, looking up while circling the skull floating in the air. "Some say it comes from a chaotic good plane, but others have seen pillars covered with these kinds of skulls in Barto Hell."

"Uh, I can't answer that question either," the skull expressed helplessly.

"You don't know yourself?" Lancelot asked with curiosity.

"I've lost most of my memories." The skull made a helpless gesture, "I know how to use language, and my mind is filled with knowledge about Mark City and other Outer Layer planes, but I don't know anything about my own past experiences.

My memory starts at the bottom of a dark pile of bones, which took me who knows how long to crawl out of, and since then I've been trapped in this desert made of bones."

"Do you still remember your name? How long have you been here?" Lancelot continued to ask. The place was full of bones, the air too chaotic, so he hadn't sensed this creature's presence before.

"The only name I remember is Eckmond, so I guess that's my name. As for how long I've been here..." The skull glanced with its mouth, "Since the first time I saw the sky above, I've witnessed the alternation of light and darkness ten thousand times. My only pastime has been to watch the fresh corpses thrown down from above.

If I'm lucky, I come across some that can still breathe and can chat with them for a while. Other than that, there's nothing else, this life is really driving me mad..."

"Can't you fly?" Lancelot asked, noting there were no supports under the skull, "Why not just fly out of here?"

"I can only fly up to six feet off the ground, with this height, I can't possibly fly out. By the way, I suspect that was my height when I was alive. And with only a mouth, I can't climb rocks, don't ask me how I know," the skull chattered rapidly, clearly excited to be able to talk to someone.

"According to my observations, the height of these bones rises about half a foot every hundred days, which means I have to wait another thirty-thousand-plus days to reach that circular platform. Then, I could follow the spiral upwards and escape from this maddening tedium, but now you've come, which is truly a godsend..."

"Have you seen this guy before?" Lancelot, seeing that the skull was quite the chatterbox, quietly asked Reap while it babbled on.

"No, the entrance to the secret passage is there, and I've always made a point of leaving this ghastly place as quickly as possible," the Werewolf shook his head, pointing to a certain spot on a platform on the edge of the pit of bones, "When I said at the bottom of the pit I meant the deepest part accessible by road, I've never actually hopped onto this mountain of bones."n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om