The Paladin in the Abyss-Chapter 562 - 586

Chapter 562: 586 Chapter 562: 586 While everyone was expressing their opinions on the battle situation, a loud roaring sound suddenly came from afar. A huge column-shaped object whistled through the air and ultimately impaled itself heavily in the center of the teleportation area.

The thunderous noise of its impact reached their ears only moments later. Lancelot took a closer look and found that it was an exaggeratedly large spine bone, and at its top, an Emblem in the shape of a Double-Edged Axe was flickering with an ice-blue light, the emblem of the Frost Giant god Solheim.

The already restless defending army was instantly thrown into disarray, turning their heads in confusion towards the direction from which the bone had come. Those on the mountain peak had a better view; they could already see a troop rapidly approaching on the horizon, with the tall figure at the forefront being none other than Gorgiad.

Compared to more than ten days ago, this Titan Giant looked positively radiant. He wore a massive horned helmet atop his head, a cape made of mammoth skin draped over his shoulders, wore no clothing on his upper body to fully display his muscular physique, and in his hand was a nearly fifteen-foot Metal Warhammer, his appearance that of a walking war machine.

And as Gorgiad’s troop drew closer, the war cries that they all chorused drifted over as well.

“Huh! Huh! Huh!”

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“Am du Anfel!”

...

“Huh! Huh! Huh!”

“Am du Slag!”

“Dod du Maug!”

“Prakt am Maat!”

(Meaning: Huh huh huh, we attack you! Huh huh huh, we slay you! You die in disgrace, our bravery wins glory!)

“You know, despite its simplicity, this war cry is quite imposing,” Kalalin said, shaking his head, “but it seems to me their numbers are a bit meager, don’t you think?”

“There are less than one hundred and fifty Frost Giants, not even a third of their opponents,” Alamir shrugged his shoulders, “Either the Demi-god is extremely powerful, or he’s too conceited.”

“This is a field encounter with a huge disparity in numbers… even if that Gorgiad is formidable, can he really take on a hundred Frost Giants alone?” Bruto shook his head doubtfully, “Big brother, what do you think?”

“Even without considering the Demi-god’s own strength, the number disparity is not yet to the point where they can’t fight,” Lancelot shrugged, “They have the upper hand in terms of momentum, and the defenders don’t even have a Commander. Hopefully, the will to fight of the Frost Giants isn’t too weak; otherwise, the level of excitement in this battle might disappoint you…”

Just then, Gorgiad raised his hammer high, signaling the start of the battle. Invigorated by his lead, the Frost Giants behind him began to charge forward, throwing their Javelins and rocks while taking advantage of the momentum of their charge.

The sky looked as though a black cloud had risen, and as it descended, it turned into a rain of blood. A large number of Frost Giants in the defenders’ positions fell like timbered trees. Because the attackers leveraged the momentum of their charge when throwing, their power and range had increased significantly, and at this moment, the defenders were still hesitating about whether to abandon their current fortifications. Under the first wave of long-range strikes, they suffered tremendous casualties.

Due to a lack of unified command, some troops among the defenders left their positions to counter-charge, while others stayed put and attempted to maneuver behind the ice wall that the Spellcasters had put so much effort into creating.

Unlike the chaotic defenders, the attackers were like a Long Spear, fiercely piercing into the loose formation of the enemy, and the spearhead leading the charge was the Demi-god himself. Crude weapons couldn’t cause him any harm; only those magical equipment radiating Spiritual Light warranted Gorgiad’s evasion. And every time his Warhammer swung, it would crush an enemy to dust, as easily as smashing a clay pot.

Contrary to Lancelot’s expectations, faced with Gorgiad’s (literally) celestial performance, the Frost Giants loyal to the Abyssal Lord showed no signs of shrinking back. Instead, they surged forward more frenziedly, like a pack of hyenas targeting a lion. Gorgiad too did not retreat a step; on the contrary, he charged into denser clusters of enemies.

When there wasn’t a single ally within sixty feet, the Demi-god leaped high into the air, and on landing, he slammed his Warhammer into the ground with all his might. This strike clearly contained immense Magical Power, causing the ground to undulate like waves, flipping all nearby enemies off their feet.

Lancelot noticed a common vulnerability between Giants and Knights—that once on the ground, it was extremely difficult for them to get up again, and this was the best opportunity to finish them off.

After the shockwave passed, the warriors following Gorgiad immediately charged forward, swiftly finishing off their fallen kin. With this single blow, the Demi-god had killed nearly twenty Frost Giants, but compared to the total number of defenders, it was far from enough. More enemies quickly filled the gap on the battlefield, and the once seemingly unstoppable assault turned into a bloody battle of attrition.

On the mountaintop, Lancelot watched with a sinking heart. In his experience, if this were a battle amongst humans, with Gorgiad’s terrifying display, the defenders’ morale would have largely collapsed, with soldiers positioned towards the rear even starting to flee. But observing the Giants’ frenzied momentum, the battle was far from ending as swiftly as he had imagined.

Given the current situation, even though Gorgiad’s inspiration pushed his followers to fight to their limits, the sheer number of enemies was overwhelming. To continue fighting like this, the tide of battle would develop in an extremely unfavorable direction for them.

“Damn, something seems off here.” Bruto, as if sensing Lancelot’s thoughts, spoke up, “Big brother, should we go down and lend a hand? We’re still counting on him to deal with that big, winged lizard. If he dies here, all our previous plans will go to waste. I can fight for ten minutes in my transformed state, and you and old Reap can last even longer…”

“Wait, that’s a terrible idea!” Hearing the Dwarf’s suggestion, the color drained from the Werewolf’s face, “It’s a Giants’ battlefield down there! Lancelot, you don’t really think we can make a difference, do you?”

“It’s too dangerous, I won’t let you two risk it,” Lancelot said, pulling out the Giant Sword Glacier from his Dimensional Bag, “But Bruto is right, if it continues like this, Gorgiad might really lose. Then all our plans will have been for naught.”

“Are you insane?” Old Reap’s face showed disbelief, “This is no different from suicide. Even the fiercest Tanari wouldn’t enter such a battlefield…”

“I’m different. To me, going into battle is as familiar as going home,” Lancelot said with a smile, pulling out the handkerchief that led to the demi-plane, “Come on, take cover inside for a bit. It’ll all be over in an hour at most.”

Upon hearing this, his companions fell silent, exchanging complex glances, until Kalalin stepped forward and declared with firm resolve:

“No, Lancelot, we’re not going in.”