The Paladin in the Abyss-Chapter 537 - 561 Terrifying Majesty

Chapter 537: Chapter 561 Terrifying Majesty Chapter 537: Chapter 561 Terrifying Majesty Moments later, Kalalin had drawn the necessary Arcane Symbols for Teleportation Magic on the ground, and Lancelot also planted his five-colored flags around the cave, setting up a simple Concealment Formation.

This kind of Formation in the world of Spiritual Cultivation served to block Divine Sense probing, preventing cultivators below the Golden Core Realm from passively sensing anything unusual within the Formation. Moreover, after Lancelot’s tests, this Formation could cause ordinary people to subconsciously overlook its presence. Even the most perceptive Elf Priest had to be prompted before they could detect any anomalies.

After establishing their hiding spot, everyone left the newly dug cave. Before leaving, Alamir cast a Water Conjuring Spell, causing a localized rainfall on the crack in the wall. Due to the low temperature, the water created by the Divine Art turned to ice instantly, resealing the entrance of the cave.

“What did I say? You can’t tell at all,” Lancelot nodded in satisfaction. Then another loud dragon’s roar drew everyone’s attention. He frowned towards the direction of the sound and lightly clapped his hands, “Let’s move on. The Dragon’s Lair is just ahead. Everyone, be careful and try not to make too much noise.”

They didn’t need him to expressly warn them, as anyone approaching a lair from which fierce beastly roars emanated would be extremely cautious. As the roaring became clearer, the light at the end of the tunnel also came into view.

The group moved forward in almost step-and-stop fashion, stealthily peering out from the shadows near the exit.

The exit led to a terrace protruding midway in the air, at the far end of which stood an enormous stone table with remains of some bodies; these were likely the sacrificial victims offered by the Fencer Trolls to the White Dragon. Next to the terrace was a spiral staircase descending into the bottom of the Dragon’s Nest, but the companions were unable to see the situation below for the moment.

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The space inside the Dragon’s Nest was even larger than they had imagined, almost large enough to cram an entire castle. But for the group, this was not good news, as the owner of the nest would have ample space to fly about during battle. If they could not find a way to restrict the Dragon’s flight, the outcome of the fight would hold no suspense.

Within the range of their sight, the structure of the Dragon’s Nest resembled an inverted funnel. Towards the top, it gradually narrowed until coming to a small opening solely for the nest owner’s entry and exit. The roaring they had been hearing came from a massive White Dragon hanging upside-down from the ceiling, growling furiously at the bottom like an enraged hound.

Looking at the enraged beast, nearly everyone felt a venom called Fear injected into their hearts. They had to exert all their strength to suppress the urge to turn and flee, yet their feet were like lead, unable to advance the slightest bit further.

Of course, as the strongest in the team, Lancelot did not submit to the terrifying majesty of the Giant Dragon. More importantly, he did not rely on the protective functions of the bamboo slip for Divine Sense, overcoming the fear with his own will. But to be frank, anyone who had experienced warfare, without a mind more solid than armor, would have suffered a mental breakdown long ago.

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Besides Lancelot, another unaffected was Alamir. As a Priest, faith made the Elves fearless, and the ugliness of the world only stirred their compassion and anger.

Meanwhile, Bruto beside him resisted the dragon’s oppressive presence in another way: he forced himself back to a particular scene in his memory. Back then, he was a slave holding his unconscious father in his arms, feeling the Demon overseer’s whip falling like raindrops on his back. He forced himself to be consumed by those deeply humiliating emotions to awaken another kind of power within him.

Accompanied by a low growl, the Dwarf forcibly entered a berserk state, where fear was instantly replaced by rage, allowing him to wrest back control of his body. His next action was to swing up his arm, trying to throw his hammer at the giant winged lizard hanging overhead, but Lancelot, with his quick reflexes, grabbed and held him down.

“Stop,” Lancelot said in a special tone close to the Dwarf’s ear, “It’s too far, you won’t hit it.”

To Bruto, the voice sounded like a cold winter wind that traveled through his ear canal and straight into his brain, allowing him to instantly regain his composure. Out of Dwarf pride, he nodded very reluctantly and crouched down again.

The other three companions, however, could not free themselves from this state on their own, and Alamir, worried about drawing the attention of the White Dragon, was unable to help his companions with Divine Arts (although he actually had the ability to do so). Lancelot thought for a moment, then gathered a special kind of True Yuan in his hand and gently patted the companions still controlled by fear.

Those who were touched by him felt a strange sensation, as if their hearts were instantly frozen, with all emotions stripped from their thoughts. This state lasted for a very short time, but when their hearts felt warmth again, the fear of the Giant Dragon had vanished without a trace.

“Is that the White Dragon we saw earlier?” Bruto asked in a low voice, “Take a good look, it’s really ugly, just like a crocodile with bat wings, except it’s all white, as if it has albinism.”

“An accurate description,” Alamir agreed, “I think it’s the adult White Dragon we saw before, Lancelot, what do you say?”

“It’s definitely the same dragon,” Lancelot stroked his chin, “but there was no dark spot on its tail before, looking as if it’s been scorched…”

Before he could finish, another dragon roar came from the bottom of the cave, causing everyone to almost instinctively drop to the ground. They exchanged glances with each other and then cautiously crawled out of the tunnel opening, peering down from the edge of the terrace.

The sight that met their eyes nearly froze them all in place, even Lancelot felt as though his heart had stopped beating.

At the bottom of the Dragon’s Lair there were several pit-like cells, each containing a Giant Dragon. Some Dragons seemed to have died, completely enveloped in thick layers of ice, like exquisitely terrifying sculptures of ice; others were bound with stout iron chains and massive instruments of torture, looking like captives of the lair’s master.

“Red, white, green, blue, black, one Giant Dragon of each color, what is Svafnir trying to do?” Alamir’s incredulous voice rose among them, “Wait, by Shuni above, are those all… female Dragons?”

“Is that even a question?” Bruto turned his head and winked at Lancelot, “The scales behind their butts are almost polished away…”