The Paladin in the Abyss

After the dust had settled, the companions regrouped to discuss the recent battle.

"Did you guys feel that the undead creatures here seem especially strong?" Bruto leaned against a pillar, speaking breathlessly, "A regular skeleton’s attack is like a little squirrel throwing pine cones at me, but just now, one of them hit my shield with a Bone Hammer, numbing half my body. I’m afraid their strength almost matches that of a Berserk Demon..."

"Indeed, that’s the case," Alamir agreed as he bandaged Kalalin, "As a Priest of the Domain of Life, I can sense a very strong negative energy emanating from them. Even when I used my Divine Power earlier, the effect seemed greatly diminished."

"There was something off about that Fireball Technique as well," Kalalin remarked, his face covered in soot. Alamir’s Divine Arts could restore his life, but not his scorched skin, "In the name of the Goddess of Magic, I’m certain those Burning Skulls had increased their Circle Rank by at least two. Thankfully they don’t know any spells like the Death Cloud Spell or Swarm of Plagues, otherwise, you’d be using Resurrection Art on me right now..."

"It’s because this is a Temple of the Lord of the Dead," Jing suddenly spoke, "I can feel it, there’s still a remnant of Divine Power from the Domain of Death here, enhancing all the undead... including myself."

"I see..." Lancelot looked at Jing with a somewhat odd expression, "Speaking of which, are you now... an elect of the Grim Reaper?"

"I don’t know," the girl pouted, "But I did gain quite a bit of knowledge about the Domain of Death in my head..."

"I’m familiar with that situation," Lancelot chuckled, "That knowledge must have been a great help in combat, right?"