The Paladin in the Abyss

Lancelot stared at the several demons blocking his path, momentarily at a loss for words. Just moments ago, Bruto had praised the usefulness of the title 'Lord of Withering', and now here they were, being robbed in the middle of Mogrondale City.

"Gold, gemstones, anything valuable out! Otherwise, we'll beat you up!"

The leading brute threatened everyone. There were five demons in front of them, and from several other directions, two or three more demons were emerging from the shadows, subtly surrounding the group.

"Huh? Are you joking?" Bruto exclaimed in surprise and alarm, "Do you know who this knight is? He is..."

"Doesn't matter who it is!" the impatient demon interrupted the dwarf, "You've entered the territory of the Iron Fist Gang, and you'll have to pay a toll!"

"And if we don't pay?" the dwarf stood his ground and replied, "Looking for a fight? I'm not afraid of you!"

"Yahaha! The little dwarf won't give in!" the leading demon laughed loudly at Bruto, "A small stature, but a big temper!"

"You!" Bruto was angered by the repeated calls of 'little dwarf', jumping in irritation, "I don't need my big brother to make a move; I can flatten you! Do you have the guts to fight me one-on-one?"

"One-on-one! One-on-one! One-on-one!" Now it was the other demons' turn to jeer. These demons seemed to think that a fight between two figures with such a height disparity would be highly entertaining, showing no interest in using their numerical advantage to gang up on them.

"Haha! One-on-one! Like I'd be afraid of you?" the leading demon boldly stepped forward, but with a shifty glance, he added, "No hammers for the dwarf, and I won't use claws either!"

"Hehe, your dwarf grandpa can flatten you with his bare fists!" Bruto sneered as he unhooked his hammer and casually stuck it into the mouth of a floating skull, "Shall we start?"

"If you dare show your claws during the fight, I can assure you I'll be the first to cut them off," Lancelot warned coldly, the Frostslash in his hands shimmering with a dangerous chill. His voice carried a strange power of deterrence, causing the surrounding demons to involuntarily step back as he began to speak.

These demons suddenly felt as if they had heard of this human knight before, and perhaps robbing these seemingly wealthy individuals wasn't such a good idea.

Especially for that Iron Fist Gang leader who was about to duel with Bruto, Lancelot's aura was like a blade pressed against his neck, making the demon struggle to breathe.

But he knew he couldn't back down; otherwise, he could forget about being the boss ever again. The demon bellowed, using rage to dispel the fear in his heart, and rushed toward the dwarf, throwing a fierce punch at him.

Bruto stood his ground without dodging, crossing his arms in front of his face. With a 'boom', the demon's fist, almost as big as Bruto's face, smashed onto the dwarf's arms, and he took the blow head-on. This was a classic dwarf brawling method: they believed that if a single punch didn't bring them down, they could strike back with even greater force.

"Pah!"

Bruto staggered two steps backward, spitting out a mouthful of blood-tinged saliva, but a fierce grin spread across his face as he disdainfully said,

"That's it?"

The shock on Margo's face was palpable as he shook his head in disbelief. How could this fellow, barely half his size, still be standing? He subconsciously glanced at his own fist, as if to check whether it was padded with a thick layer of cushioning. But by that time, the Dwarf had already charged forward.

Although Bruto was considerably shorter than his opponent, Demons were mostly severely hunchbacked, so his fist still managed to reach Margo's chin. The Dwarf feigned a right uppercut, and his opponent instinctively raised his hand to block, not expecting it to be but a feint. Bruto's right hand changed direction midway, hitting nothing, and his body followed the motion of the punch, starting to spin and revealing his true deadly move—the elbow of his left arm.

"Good!" Lancelot cheered as soon as Bruto began to turn. The Dwarf's iron elbow, like a Cross Pickaxe, brutally crashed into the side of Margo's left knee, a sight that would make any spectator's knees feel weak just by looking.

His opponent let out a cry of pain and swung another punch instinctively toward the Dwarf. Bruto let this rushed punch land on his head and at the same time, threw another uppercut, aimed right at Margo's chin.

Unlike most creatures, a Dwarf's skull is the hardest part of their body. Many veterans of bar brawls knew it was best not to aim for a Dwarf's head—it would only anger them further without causing any real damage. And if there is anything worse than a drunk Dwarf, it's a drunk and enraged Dwarf.

The sound of fists hitting flesh was nearly simultaneous: the Dwarf was knocked to one side, while Margo's head was thrown back sharply.

But Bruto acted even before he regained his balance, once again spinning his body from left to right, delivering the same elbow strike aimed at the outer side of Margo's left knee.

The clear sound of a knee shattering rang out, and from Margo's mouth came a pitiful cry akin to prey stepping into a bear trap. Bruto's iron elbow rendered the Demon's left leg utterly incapable of supporting any weight. As the Demon bent over to clutch his left leg, he was met with another potent right hook from the Dwarf, sending the over three hundred-pound Margo flying through the air. Enjoy exclusive content from My Virtual Library Empire

"That's it?"

Once again, the Dwarf spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva, and reached up to adjust his crooked nose, snapping it back into place with a forceful twist.

His opponent knelt on the ground, eyes burning with flames of rage and madness. All of a sudden, Margo leaped forward on one foot, flapping the slender bat wings on his back while in midair, claws fully extended, swooping down like an osprey towards the unarmed Bruto.

Lancelot, whose attention had remained sharply focused, immediately sprang into action. His figure flickered eerily, instantly appearing in front of Bruto, with Frostslash emanating a blindingly bright cyan light in his hand, tracing an arc across the sky like a crescent moon.

With the intent to intimidate, Lancelot unleashed the full power of the Qingyun Sword Art. Margo's body was split cleanly in two from head to groin, with both halves of the corpse falling to either side, and the spurting blood staining Lancelot's Mithril armor a deep red.

He turned around, his cold gaze sweeping over the surrounding Demons. Most of them had charged halfway but stopped dead in their tracks under Lancelot's icy stare, awkwardly standing their ground.