The Paladin in the Abyss

Chapter 105 Kalalin's Plan

The siege engines launching these boulders seemed to have poor accuracy; many of the stones smashed into the city instead of hitting the walls. This didn't quite fit with the strict impression Demons usually made on people, and it was likely because these siege engines were hastily assembled.

Then the question arose, where to find the materials to build these siege engines?

"Old Reap, aside from that forest to the south of the city, are there any other woods nearby?"

"No, this plane has a severe allergy to most plants," the Werewolf shrugged his shoulders, "Why do you ask?"

"I was wondering where these stone-launching devices were made." Lancelot pointed upwards as a burning Fireball flew about fifty feet above their heads and smashed a stone tower nearby to rubble.

A few Berserk Demons crawled out from the ruins, bellowing in anger. The few pieces of cloth they wore were on fire, but the Tanari possessed high flame resistance. Such flames couldn't cause much damage but were enough to ignite the Demons' anger.

"I see what you mean," the Werewolf said dryly, "There probably aren't many Demons left there now. What I mean is, the battle has already begun, right? And the wolf-men's tunnels usually have many exits, so slipping out unnoticed shouldn't be hard."

"We'll talk about it when the time comes." The Werewolf made some sense, so Lancelot didn't dwell on the topic any longer. As long as they weren't emerging right in the middle of the Demon camp, there shouldn't be a problem. He had just slaughtered a Succubus today and was brimming with confidence.

On the other hand, those Berserk Demons who had climbed out from the ruins of the tower were mumbling to each other. Out of curiosity and boredom, Lancelot focused his hearing on those giant toads and overheard the following conversation:

"Those damn Bartez! I'm going to break their bones and drink their brain juice!"

"Just stay put! Legion Commander Raziel ordered us to hold this tower! Do you want a taste of his fury?"

"Ah! To hell with it! Such bad luck! Why did it have to be me guarding this crappy tower?"

"Most of those Bartez are probably lining up, giving those guys on the walls the thrill of the kill, and we're stuck here guarding these damned stones!"

Lancelot had a flash of inspiration and, using the technique of secret sound transmission, imitated the voices and tones of the Berserk Demons and whispered a sentence into the ear of the loudest complaining toad.

The Berserk Demon paused, then suddenly bellowed:

"What did you say? The tower is destroyed, so our mission is over?"

"Who said that?" another confused voice of a Berserk Demon rang out, but it was immediately drowned out by the excited outbursts of the others.

"That makes sense! The tower is destroyed, so of course, there's no need to guard it anymore!"

"Does that mean we can leave?"

"Definitely!"

"That's correct!"

"It must be so!"

"You're so smart, let's go, let's go!"

"The battle calls for me!"

In an instant, the Berserk Demons scattered in a hurry. Some ran past the front of the slave enclosure, making those guarding the gate envious. They wanted to join them, yet didn't dare to abandon their post. Their longing looked just like a child locked up at home, gazing at playmates frolicking in the square through the window.

"See that? Another bunch who couldn't suppress their thirst for battle and abandoned their posts," Old Reap stuck half his head out and eyed the fleeing Demons, "Let's wait a bit more; those gatekeepers will definitely not be able to hold it in."

Lancelot wasn't so sure in his heart, but if another rock were to smash the gate of the slave enclosure, then he might be able to pull some other tricks.

Thinking of this, he suddenly had an idea and beckoned Kalalin over.

"What's up?" The Scholar cautiously approached, curious about Lancelot's new idea.

"Can your Illusion Magic mimic the effect of a Fireball falling from the sky?"

"Er, I'm afraid not," Kalalin shook his head, "Minor Illusions can either create a static, small-scale illusion or produce some sound. To mimic the effect of a giant rock crashing down would require a Third Circle spell, Advanced Illusion, but I've already used up my only Third Circle spell slot during the fight with the Succubus."

"Do you have any plans?" Phil asked curiously, "Can my bombs help in any way?"

"I'm thinking, if we can destroy that gate, then the Demons won't have anything left to guard," Lancelot explained, "At the same time, if we can convince the big toads that the destruction was the work of the Devils' siege engines, maybe that would be enough to drive them off."

"Oh! That's a good idea!" Phil rubbed his hands excitedly, "I have several bombs that can utterly destroy that gate!"

"I originally planned to go up and talk to them myself while Kalalin created an illusion of a falling Fireball. While the Demons were distracted by the sky, you'd throw your bombs and blow the area to smithereens, then persuade the Berserk Demons to seek revenge on the Devils," Lancelot shrugged, "Looks like that's not going to work now."

"Oh, no!!!!!" Like a child learning there's no gift for Midwinter, Phil was anxious, pacing back and forth on the ground, "I love that idea so much! Kalalin, can't you cast another Third Circle spell? Aren't there any Second Circle spells that might work? Those big toads are stupider than you think; even a fake illusion would fool them!"

"I'm sorry, but I'm afraid that's not possible," Kalalin looked apologetically at everyone, "Alamir, Uncle Vito, do any of your Divine Arts have something that can help?"

The Elf Priest and his Dwarf companion exchanged a glance and helplessly shook their heads.

The Goblin looked miserably wronged. He sulkily took a Dimensional Bag off his waist and pulled out a massive bomb, two heads taller than himself, and caressed the black shell as if it were a lover, muttering to himself:

"Don't be sad, Casalilia, Daddy will find you a better home next time, I promise..."

"This guy's completely lost it," Old Reap anxiously observed the giant bomb, "I think we'd better stand back. Anything this guy makes in my line of sight makes me uncomfortable."

"Lancelot has provided a good line of thought," Kalalin stroked his perfectly sculpted Succubus chin, "How much does this thing weigh, approximately?"

"Two hundred forty-seven pounds, twelve and three-quarter ounces," Phil reported the exact number immediately, the Goblin looked at the disguised Scholar with hope, "What are you thinking?"

"If a fake illusion won't do, why not just use the real thing?" For once, a mischievous smile appeared on Kalalin's face, "First, let me confirm, this bomb won't explode from moving and shaking during transport, will it?"