The Paladin in the Abyss

As the people discussed nearby, the vampire maid finished her cleaning task. The previously filthy statue of Milko now looked brand new, with a white jade-like skull placed in a black triangular box, involuntarily invoking a sense of inexplicable fear. However, Lancelot had seen real altars before. Although this newly cleaned statue seemed convincing, it still lacked one crucial thing — the aura unique to a deity, which mere appearance couldn’t compensate for.

But little Elizabeth’s work didn’t end there. She knelt before the statue and began whispering a prayer. Mere moments later, a mysterious force suddenly appeared out of thin air, silently turning the former Lord of the Dead’s statue into powder. In the next instant, those particles reformed in the air, transforming into an upward-stretched skeletal arm, clutching a brass balance in its palm.

Furthermore, even the patterns on the stained glass windows behind the statue changed: the far left glass depicted the final legendary battle at Saint’s Catastrophe’s end, the scene still set atop the Black Rod Tower in Deepwater City. Yet, its protagonist was a woman in a purple robe, her spell vividly striking the hooded skull symbolizing the former Grim Reaper, while a male human warrior with black-gray long hair, wearing chain mail and a leather cloak, wielding a broad sword, guarded against the skeletal army surging up the stairs.

"Look at that…" Bruto couldn’t help but raise his arm, "Cranvo openly acknowledged that Milko was defeated by Midnight, not seizing the chance to claim the credit for himself?"

"Yes." Elizabeth responded proudly, "This is the message Cranvo wishes to convey to mortals — death is honest. When it arrives, no lie can take it away. The deceased must face the final judgment as their true selves..."

"Sounds reasonable." Bruto nodded, "So what does the middle piece mean?"

"That depicts Cranvo acquiring the Grim Reaper’s divine office. He stood atop Skeleton Castle, promising the souls in the City of the Dead an end to endless torment and fair judgment for everyone. The dead accepted his promise, and from that moment, he became the new King of the Dead."

"And what about the last painting?"

"Cranvo stands on the transparent Crystal Spire, overlooking mortals waiting in line for judgment." Elizabeth took a deep breath, "The implication is simple and clear. The new Lord of the Dead remains faithful to the promise that made him a deity, patiently waiting in the Crystal Spire to deliver fair decisions for everyone…"

"We have seen Cranvo’s judgment on you." Lancelot said softly, "It was indeed fair. But isn’t it said that deities cannot be aware of the conditions within the Demon’s Domain? How did you summon that power?"

"Uh…" Elizabeth was at a loss for words, "I don’t know…"

"Allow me to explain." Alamir interjected, "To be precise, we don’t receive responses from the deities, but whether they can hear our prayers, I believe they can. The Fire Lady still grants me spells daily, and what just happened also proves this theory: Divine Power must originate from the deity itself. Cranvo must have heard Elizabeth’s prayer to make such a manifestation…"

"You are absolutely right, Shuni’s priest."