The Paladin in the Abyss-Chapter 740 - 761 Tulaglas

"Two of the three giants of the Abyss actually joined forces?" Lancelot asked in surprise, but he didn’t turn his head, focusing on the steep mountain path ahead, "I thought they were always fighting nonstop and only formed a brief alliance when one of them became too powerful?"

"Yes, but Tulaglas… is different," Kalalin followed closely behind, eyes intently fixed on the ground beneath his feet, "The other Abyssal Lords see the ’Eternal Hunger’ as a terrifying threat, which could disrupt their myriad schemes and even threaten their very existence. Tulaglas is like a cyst grown from the Abyss itself; such a close connection is something that neither Dimogorgen nor Orcus can match. If the Abyss itself can create beings capable of standing shoulder to shoulder with those Tanari Lords, then what stronger beings might emerge in the future from the disharmony churning within the Abyss itself?"

"So, the Demon Prince and The Undying Overlord put aside their conflict to deal with Tulaglas?"

"It sounds strange, I know, but during a lull in their endless war, they indeed joined forces. First, other Demon Lords who feared the Eternal Hunger sent a massive army to this plane, nearly submerging it. After the latter exhausted most of its power, spells, and cultists, the two Abyssal Lords stepped onto the battlefield together. Despite Tulaglas being immensely powerful, it stood no chance against Dimogorgen and Orcus joining forces. Using control over its own realm, Tulaglas tried to banish one of them or escape to the depths of the Stellar Realm using Teleportation Magic, but the Demon Prince and The Undying Overlord had anticipated this. They corrupted the magic of the Eternal Hunger, trapped it behind the walls of dimensions, and transformed its area into a dimensional prison…"

"A dimensional prison?" Alamir asked, somewhat surprised, "Where? This plane?"

"Correct." The Scholar turned his walking stick and pointed to the gloomy sky above, "Right above us…"

Everyone looked up curiously, scrutinizing the fog that seemed uniformly the same. At first, they saw nothing, but suddenly, a gust of brisk wind tore a small gap in the fog, revealing the scene at higher altitudes.

"What is that?" Bruto exclaimed in surprise, "Another piece of land?"

"A demi-plane," Alamir squinted, his gaze still fixed on the gap now re-covered by the fog, "That must be the dimensional prison Kalalin talked about."

Lancelot saw more; he was certain that the terrain in that demi-plane closely mirrored the land beneath their feet, and their current location provided a clear view of the surrounding landscapes. What this meant, Lancelot couldn’t discern, and he saw no creatures like the masters of this plane. Intuition told him that was definitely a good thing.

"Stop looking, you won’t get any useful information," Kalalin’s voice rose again, "And it’s dangerous in itself. When you gaze at that prison, there’s a very small chance that you’ll attract the attention of Tulaglas…"

"And then?" Bruto shrank his neck, feeling inexplicably cold.

"No one knows," Kalalin curled his lip, "Every Scholar in the Cult who studied it ended up disappearing without exception. Just fine in the morning, greeting colleagues and discussing the latest findings, and then suddenly gone without taking any personal belongings or leaving any explanations – just disappeared into thin air and no magical means could locate them."

"Speaking of which, isn’t your case similar?" Lancelot quickly turned back to check that everyone was still following, "I remember you said that you summoned demons when you were reading a Scroll of Darkness, and your entire room was dragged into the Abyssal Plane…"

"That’s exactly what happened," Kalalin curled his lip, "If it weren’t for running into you and Bruto, I’d just be another name on the long list of disappearances of the Cult."

"Sounds like a terrible job."

"Indeed," the Scholar chuckled, "But knowledge is so tempting; even knowing the dangers, it still compels one to pursue it recklessly…"

"It’s like a moth to a flame," Bruto commented. "I know some dwarfs who would do the same for gold, gemstones, or even a rich vein..."

"Sounds familiar," said Lancelot without turning back.

"Damn, I didn’t even realize it myself," Bruto lifted his helmet back to his neck, wiping the sweat from his forehead, "How much further do we have?"

"Less than half a mile. Vertically."

"...Get breakfast out, please. Before I start gnawing on your ass."

The dwarf’s threat was effective. Lancelot took out the white dragon meat that had been skewered with iron spikes beforehand, its inherent chill keeping it fresh.

"How well done?"

"Well done."

"Rare."

"Rare, thank you, brother!"

A green flame sprang from Lancelot’s hand, instantly cooking the skewer to his companions’ desired doneness, and he handed them out to Alamir, Kalalin, and little Isha. As for Bruto, he had already grabbed the thickest skewer and started chewing on it—he had an inexplicable craving for completely raw meat.

The food indeed injected new vitality into their bodies, and they unconsciously quickened their pace. They trudged along the mountain path, now steep, now gentle, for about an hour, and the contour of the mountaintop was now clearly visible in their sight.

"Come to think of it, this plane doesn’t seem so dangerous," Bruto’s voice broke the silence again. "Aside from those initial Flomoses, and the big mouths that sprouted from the ground unexpectedly. I guess those bizarre phenomena won’t happen unless there’s a corpse or blood on the ground?"

"A hypothesis worth recording," Kalalin panted in reply. "Once we stop, I’ll write down your idea..."

"But why haven’t any new enemies appeared?" Little Isha asked somewhat curiously. "The mountains near Twin Bridges Town were packed with Flomoses, as many as the leaves on a big tree..."

Everyone’s steps halted abruptly, while Lancelot gently drew his hand half sword from his back, and both Bruto and Alamir took out their respective shields and weapons. The little girl had pointed out an issue they had all overlooked: in the Abyss, if an area was relatively safe, there was only one reason—it belonged to some powerful entity.