The Paladin in the Abyss

Lancelot seemed to react only at the last moment, suddenly jumping to the side and crashing into the pile of weapons. Instantly, all sorts of weapons clanged and scattered across the ground.

"You-you-don't come any closer! Weren't you going to see the effect of the Cold Iron Weapon? I haven't even picked up a weapon yet!" Lancelot shouted in a panicked tone, swiftly climbing to his feet with a very ordinary Cold Iron Longsword now in his hand.

The Berserk Demon, having lunged at empty air, slowly came to his senses. This creature, clad in Golden Chainmail and wielding a Golden Scepter, was as garish as a giant toad, almost as much as those bald Cultivators in their Monastery with their venerated icons.

This Molo seems to be really wealthy, I'd better play out this act in full.

Lancelot retreated step by step, seemingly terrified.

The Berserk Demon, upon seeing this, revealed a sinister smile. All Demons were intimately familiar with fear, the very bridge that maintained the order of Demon society, something they endured every day and couldn't wait to inflict on others.

When your enemies are afraid, fearful, and faltering, no matter their original strength, killing them becomes a simple task.

"If you want to make it more convincing, you should have a faster heartbeat, constricted pupils, and secrete an unpleasant sweat," Tijana's teasing voice echoed in Lancelot's mind, "This trick might fool only a stupid fellow like the Berserk Demon."

"I haven't got that ability," Lancelot replied without a change in his voice, though the expression of fear on his face exaggerated a tad more. He continued to back away and then suddenly, as if tripped by the messy weapons on the ground, he appeared to fall backward.

"Die!!!" The Berserk Demon roared angrily and lunged at Lancelot with increased speed.

Lancelot's rear end landed perfectly on the upturned butt of a spear, the point of which flicked upwards like a cobra, penetrating the wide-open mouth of the Berserk Demon and exiting through the back of its skull.

It wasn't even a Cold Iron Long Spear, but it was enough to kill the Berserk Demon before it could comprehend what had happened.

"My God!" Only then did Lancelot move his firm rear end, stabbing the Longsword into the heart of the Berserk Demon. He pulled the sword out from the chest of the now lifeless toad-like creature, and with an utterly ecstatic expression, exclaimed, "Hahaha! The Goddess of Luck, Tamara, must have smiled at me just now; my luck is just too good!"

"You scoundrel!" Molo, fuming, leapt off his soft bed and grabbed a Berserk Demon, "You go! Kill that man for me!"

Lancelot dodged backward with even more agility than before, simultaneously saying:

"No, no, no! We had a deal: one large gemstone for each toad!"

"Here!" The male Succubus took another gemstone from his bag and threw it at Lancelot, who caught it deftly.

"Be gentle, careful not to smash it!" Lancelot cried out. He glanced at the gemstone in his hand and bellowed dissatisfiedly, "Not that kind, I'm asking for a mountain crystal!"n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

Despite being clad in full Plate Armor, his speed did not diminish in the slightest. The Berserk Demon adorned in Golden Armor panted as it chased him in circles, completely unable to catch the nimble human.

"I'll give it to you! Stop running!"

"First, call off your minions from chasing me!"

"You stand still first!"

"Just throw it! I can catch it!"

Molo was about to go mad with irritation. With a flick of his hand, a huge mountain crystal flew toward Lancelot. It seemed certain to miss, but Lancelot's figure eerily flickered, and the next moment, the mountain crystal was securely in his grasp.

"That's more like it!" His figure came to an abrupt halt, turning to face the Berserk Demon.

The opponent didn't slow its pace for a second, charging directly at Lancelot. It had forgotten it was carrying a weapon and, mouth wide open, attempted to bite Lancelot.

Lancelot twirled around, narrowly dodging the assault with some difficulty, but as he turned, he hid the blade behind him, slightly extending the tip as he misstepped, immediately severing the four toes on the Berserk Demon's left foot, leaving only a bald footpad.

In this strike, he had not used any True Qi nor had he exerted much physical strength; it was solely the restraining effect of cold iron on demons. This way, he could avoid revealing his own strength while also demonstrating the effectiveness of cold iron, killing two birds with one stone.

The Berserk Demon howled in pain, but such an injury was far from fatal. The pain stimulated its nerves, causing its eyes to slowly turn red as rationality was gradually overtaken by a berserk desire.

It stamped its foot, shaking off the toes still attached to flesh and skin, then charged at Lancelot again.

This time, Lancelot didn't dodge, swinging his longsword to meet the Berserk Demon's onslaught head-on.

Although many believe that Berserk Demons are favored by High Rank Demons as a staple in the Demon Lords' armies due to their simplicity and manipulability, there are many types of demons with low intelligence. The combat prowess of Berserk Demons is certainly top-tier among Middle Rank Demons.

Moreover, with their tremendous strength, it was challenging for Lancelot to contend with them while intentionally suppressing his own power.

The longsword and scepter collided incessantly, with Lancelot's weapon always knocked away upon contact, seemingly completely overpowered. However, he skillfully avoided every attack and still found time to lightly slash the Berserk Demon's arms and thighs.

Under normal circumstances, such minor attacks wouldn't harm the Berserk Demon at all, but the miraculous properties of the cold iron made the crudely made blade edge as sharp as the finest razor, causing horrific wounds with a mere graze and the cold aura contained within also prevented the wounds from healing.

Before long, the Berserk Demon was drenched in blood, despite the fact that these were only superficial wounds.

Aside from Molo, the other demon representatives and their attendants began whispering among themselves. Lancelot had achieved his goal; he made it all seem like the merit of the cold iron weapon.

The earlier gladiatorial match wasn't clear enough, and the combatants were of too low a level. The battle at hand possessed better reference value because these relatively inferior cold iron weapons were designed for use against enemies at the Berserk Demon's level of strength.

Though none of the wounds on its body were fatal, their inability to heal caused the accumulated pain to eventually reach a threshold.

Suddenly, the Berserk Demon roared in rage, casting aside its scepter and attacking Lancelot with its claws.