The Paladin in the Abyss

Oasis Fort didn't have as vast a mercenary community as Twin Bridges Town, so the standard of the bars inevitably suffered. Most were dirty and dilapidated, and their meeting place was no exception.

Phil led them to a bar on the edge of the business district, snuggled next to the largest slave enclosure in Oasis Fort. The bar's entrance was adorned with a rusty sign that swayed gently in the occasional breeze, featuring a goblet with a rose.

It was the afternoon, and the bar was devoid of customers, save for a burly barkeeper who leisurely cleaned glasses behind the bar.

As Lancelot had just pushed open the bar's heavy doors, the barkeeper immediately lifted his head. He squinted his eyes at Lancelot like a threatened animal, with sharp, fang-like teeth protruding from his mouth, and his cup-holding hand silently morphed into deadly claws.

"Ease up, old Reap, he's one of ours," said Phil, startled by the barkeeper's reaction, hurriedly interjecting.

"Phil? What are you doing here?" The barkeeper only then noticed the Goblin's presence, expressing surprise as his fangs and claws swiftly retracted.

He leapt from behind the bar with agile movements, promptly shutting all the windows of the bar and hanging a 'Closed for Business' sign on the door.

"Let me introduce..."

The barkeeper gestured with his hand to cut off Phil and pulled open a hidden door behind the bar that led to the cellar.

"Come in, then we talk."

"Old underground, huh." Phil shrugged at Lancelot.

The group followed old Reap into the cellar, which was a small basement of about two hundred square feet, brimming with wine barrels draped in cobwebs.

Old Reap did not rush to converse with them. First, he lit all the torches on the wall and cautiously checked each corner to ensure nothing strange was eavesdropping.

Having completed this, he turned to Phil with a disdainful look.

"What are you doing here?"

"Obviously, our great Queen has commanded, otherwise I wouldn't want to come to this stinking place."

"I've barely managed to make this bar turn a small profit; please do me a favor and try not to blow it to the heavens, alright?"

"Er, what are you on about? I swear on Magrubiyeh's name, I don't have a gram of explosive on me," Phil said with an awkward expression, "cough cough, let me formally introduce you. This is old Reap, Twin Bridges Town's liaison officer stationed at Oasis Fort; these are Lancelot and Kalalin, they're in charge of this operation."

"Good afternoon, gentlemen," old Reap extended his hand and shook hands with Lancelot and Kalalin. "Perhaps you've already noticed, I'm a Werewolf, but don't worry, I haven't bitten anyone arbitrarily in a long time, annoying Goblins notwithstanding."

"Good afternoon," Lancelot said, intrigued by the operative disguised as a barkeeper. "How does a Werewolf end up in the Abyss, and moreover, as an agent for the Demon Lord?"

"I was born in Twin Bridges Town; both of my parents were Werewolves." The muscular barkeeper shrugged. "Like most kids born in Twin Bridges Town, I became a mercenary when I grew up. When you inadvertently complete a certain special mission, it's natural that someone would inquire if you're interested in serving Lady Tijana directly."

"You agreed?"Nôv(el)B\\jnn

"Why not?" asked old Reap, puzzled by Lancelot's question. "I'm quite happy to protect my hometown, and Lady Tijana has always been very generous to her subordinates."

It was then that Lancelot realized Twin Bridges Town had been established for 300 years. For long-lived races like Dwarves, there were those who remembered how Twin Bridges Town had looked when it was newly established, whereas for shorter-lived races, several generations might have already proliferated there.

They naturally harbored affections for Twin Bridges Town, especially in an environment as hostile as the Abyss.

"Twin Bridges Town really is a special place," Kalalin remarked, the sensation was utterly fascinating, as though a historian studying a certain period had truly traveled back in time.

"Our goal this time is the Cross Pickaxe in the Succubus Palace," Phil said. "I heard Molo recently greatly strengthened the fortress defenses? Has he caught wind of something?"

"Why are you targeting that thing?" Old Reap raised an eyebrow. "Molo must have been stimulated by something at Twin Bridges Town, right? His departing entourage was so ostentatious, as if he was off to a wedding, yet he returned all alone and in disgrace. What happened after the gladiatorial competition ended?

People are speculating, did Tijana get thoroughly annoyed by his foolish courting methods and lay hands on his followers, killing them all?"

"Who knows," Lancelot replied, shaking his head in apparent calm, but inside he guessed it was probably Molo himself, the cruel bastard, trying to cover up the humiliation he suffered.

He had been in Twin Bridges Town for a bit too long and had almost forgotten this was the normal way demons conducted themselves.

"Maybe it was just a rejection by Tijana, and then he killed all the witnesses himself," Old Reap guessed the truth almost nonchalantly. "But what's got him on high alert isn't that. Reportedly, two patrols mysteriously disappeared not long ago, making him paranoid for quite a while."

"If you ask me, it's likely that an entire patrol defected to another Demon Lord. It's not unusual," Phil shrugged. "What measures did he take?"

"Almost all the Berserk Demons in the barracks were mobilized, every strategic point in the fort was stuffed with stinking toads. The patrols on the streets have also intensified, keeping an eye out for dangerous elements like you."

"How long has this state of affairs been going on?" Phil quirked an eyebrow.

"Nearly three weeks," Old Reap replied with a skewed smile, revealing his sharp molars.

"This is unusual, he might have received other intelligence, but it's been too long," Phil shook his head. "Our operation seems easier than expected."

Lancelot exhibited a peculiar expression; could it be that maintaining heightened defenses for too long had some drawbacks?

"Most demons are rather impatient creatures," Phil explained, seeing Lancelot's confusion and speaking for humans. "If no battle happens, they'll grow slack, lose focus, or even start fighting each other. A smart Demon Lord would try to prevent this at all costs, but a fool like Molo only knows to force them with violence."

"Are you saying that demons become weaker in combat under these circumstances?"

"Not weaker, if a battle occurs, they're even more reckless and destructive than usual," Phil answered. "But our goal is to slip in quietly, right? What's better than a bunch of distracted guards?"

"The Succubus Palace has strict guards, sneaking in won't be so easy," Old Reap shook his head. "We need a thorough plan, understanding the guards' patterns, and a retreat strategy. Honestly, if I had been informed of the goal in advance, I could have prepared, but Molo could return at any moment, and we might not have the time now."

"We are indeed pressed for time," Lancelot nodded. "But we don't actually need to sneak in."

A Werewolf and Goblin looked at him with puzzled expressions, and Lancelot scratched his head, exchanging a glance with Kalalin.

"Here's the thing, Tijana gave us strands of her hair..."

As he spoke, he and Kalalin each put on a delicate ring.

A pale blue magic light flashed, and two stunningly beautiful and voluptuous succubi appeared in their place, leaving Phil and Old Reap stunned for a moment before they shot out blood from their nostrils and fell backward onto the ground.

"Uh, are you guys alright?" A seductive and enticing feminine voice rang out. "Lansna, they didn't faint, did they?"

Hearing the name Lansna, the Goblin Phil, who had just sat up, toppled over once again.

Your journey continues at empire

He felt he needed a moment to recover.