The Paladin in the Abyss

Lancelot realized that he had his ears perked up, fully attentive to what the Elves were about to say. "Uh, Shuni's church does indeed teach some... techniques." Alamir's expression made it clear that he was not proud of this, "After that, it's a lot of practice. Succubuses have very sensitive bodies, and it's not too difficult to figure out what they like, but obviously, you need good stamina."

The Human Knight silently cursed in his heart. He must bring this guy back, and when there's time, learn a thing or two from him—this was his current thought.

Of course, Lancelot had fantasized about what would happen with Tijana once all those beautiful scenarios had been realized, but he actually wasn't very confident about it; after all, at their core, succubi were born from mankind's most primal, wildest desires, naturally possessing the highest standards in matters of men and women.

He shook his head, casting aside those stray thoughts from his mind. He glanced again at the collar around the elf's neck, and suddenly felt that perhaps he could do something about it.

"Is it this collar that's preventing you from using your Divine Arts?" he asked, "Maybe I can disable it."

Hope appeared on Alamir's face, and he nodded vigorously, indicating that it was indeed so.

Lancelot walked over and placed his hand on the mithril collar. At the Qi Refinement Realm, he couldn't project his Divine Sense from afar and could only probe the condition of creatures and objects through direct contact.

He discovered an intricate magic circuit within the collar, the details of which required advanced magical knowledge that the occasional tidbits picked up from Kalalin were not enough to comprehend.

But he didn't need to understand the workings of this magical item; Lancelot just needed to destroy it.

The Human Knight carefully began to circulate his qi, using only a tiny bit of his most purified Innate True Qi. The Innate True Qi, like a little brush, wiped the delicately structured interior of the mithril collar into a meaningless blank slate.

Alamir immediately sensed an invisible restraint disappear, and with trembling hands, he cast a Holy Fire Technique again. The muscles on his neck instinctively tensed, fearing the usual burst of intense pain.

The searing light descended like flames, but he stood there just fine, and nothing happened.

"You must be sent by the Goddess to save me; words can't express my gratitude, friend." He bowed deeply to Lancelot, the last word spoken in the language of the Elves.

"I guess he's going to be one of us from now on," Bruto whispered to Kalalin.

"Why?" Continue reading at empire

"Haven't you noticed our common trait? You, me, this delicious-smelling Elf, we've all been saved by Lancelot."

"Indeed, Sir Lancelot is a good man," Kalalin sighed, "Meeting him has truly been our luck."

By then, Alamir had run over to a corner of the room, where there was a large bathtub. The elf pulled a handle, and immediately from a copper pipe flowed steaming bathwater.

"Uh, what are you doing?" Bruto asked the elf curiously, "Are you going to take a bath?"

"I suppose so, bathing is part of the ritual required to pray to the Goddess, and since we have an hour left, I want to try and see if I can restore some Divine Arts." With only men present, Alamir quickly stripped down to just his underwear, then immersed himself in the water, "It's been a long time since I prayed to her.

The collar and guards prevented me from doing so, and now isn't even the proper time for prayer, but I hope the Goddess still wishes to hear my voice."

Upon hearing this, the others also found places to sit down. Kalalin and Bruto whispered about some interesting things they had seen in the Succubus Palace, while Lancelot sat cross-legged to meditate, entering a state of Spiritual Sight, alert to any abnormalities around them.

Alamir first completed his bath with a devotional heart, then carefully tidied his hair, donned his robe, and made sure he looked as beautiful and elegant as possible.

After somewhat awkwardly finishing the preparations for prayer, he began to softly recite the prayers he had only been able to silently read in his mind for the past decade.

At first, Lancelot didn't notice any changes, but his Spirit Perception detected a slight abnormality in the surroundings. This abnormality was hard to describe; if not for the heightened senses under his meditation and Spiritual Sight, he wouldn't have noticed this change at all.

Suddenly, a pink Spiritual Light appeared out of nowhere, enveloping the praying Elf. The light carried a sacred aura similar to the one Moradin had when blessing the whip for Lancelot, only much gentler and more soothing, like a lover's caress.

Tears flowed from Alamir's tightly closed eyes as he appeared very happy, yet he continued with the prayers from his mouth.

"What's happening?" Bruto nudged Kalalin with his elbow and turned back to see the Scholar with his mouth wide open in astonishment.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

"That is a sign of the Deities' favor to a believer," Kalalin explained, "Perhaps the Lady of the Flame is pleased with his constant faith."

The red light gradually faded, but the energy it contained slowly merged into the Elf's body. Lancelot felt that it wasn't just the Elf's body that had healed; his soul, which had been heavily strained, seemed to have been repaired as well.

Finally, Alamir ended his prayer, stood up with his eyes open, giving off a refreshed aura.

Seeing everyone looking curiously at him, the Elf gave a slight smile. He tore a small piece of white cloth from the robe placed beside him, bowed his head to softly utter a Spell, and then threw the white cloth in his hand outwards.

The white cloth quickly turned into three larger illusions in mid-air, and immediately flew towards Lancelot and the others.

Feeling the nature of the power contained in the magic, Lancelot didn't dodge, but instead stood curiously in place.

The illusions took on the form of cloaks, gently wrapping around them before vanishing from sight. Lancelot felt his Life Force had become slightly more vigorous, and though the increase wasn't large, it was still a decent Blessing Divine Art.

"This is Aid! Have your Divine Arts been restored?" Kalalin asked excitedly, for his own physique was relatively weak, and the strengthening effect of the Divine Arts was much more apparent on him than on Lancelot and Bruto.

"Yes, I never imagined the Goddess would directly respond to my prayer and even bestow upon me many new Divine Arts, including even the Resurrection Art!" Alamir happily replied, then his face betrayed a slightly embarrassed expression, "My domain of Divine Arts is life, so I am not skilled in attack, but I can use Divine Arts to quickly heal any injuries you incur.

If a battle occurs later, could you try your best to protect me?"

"No problem, that's a very reasonable tactic," Lancelot nodded and then stood up, "It's about time, let's get moving."