The Paladin in the Abyss

"This is indeed a very profound philosophical question, and I would love to hear your thoughts." Lancelot smiled warmly at Soveris, "You and your kin possess the ability to transform. Among them, there are Elves, humans, and I even saw a few Tiflin. Each person has many other labels as well—Shapeshifter, Beastman, Raventown resident, Outsider, native of Derrick Kingdom, Rebel against the Demon’s Domain lord... How do you view yourselves?"

"... I’ve never thought about it." The brown-haired Elf looked around somewhat awkwardly, "My question just now was absolutely not intended to offend anyone, it’s purely out of curiosity..."

"No need to be nervous, my friend, your question did not offend anyone." Lancelot shook his head with a smile, "What I meant to say is, you can use a specific label to describe a group of people, but it’s hard to fully define a person using just one label. In my case, my past adventures have given me many uncommon labels, some of which make your people uneasy, right?"

"Everyone is still very grateful to you..."

"But they question my motives. No need to deny it; I fully understand what the Barlow Flame Demon represents." Lancelot covered his mouth, coughed lightly twice, and gave Soveris an apologetic smile, "Everyone has their own secrets, and I don’t want to concoct a lie to gain your trust. If I must explain, my companions and I are Blood War Mercenaries, residing in the Bottomless Abyss. We have slain more Fiends than Goblins, and in the process, have gained some special abilities. For example, I can briefly transform into a Barlow Flame Demon, akin to a mage’s transmutation spell, no different from your transformation into Ravens."

"But that’s exactly what worries everyone. Many of my kin maintain their Raven form for prolonged periods, eventually forgetting their true identities..."

"I understand, but I can’t maintain the Flame Demon form for long. Otherwise, I would have been more than happy to annihilate that Undead army for you, I assure you. A true Barlow could indeed accomplish such a feat, at least without resorting to self-destruction." Lancelot gave a self-mocking smile, "If you still don’t believe me, there are more direct pieces of evidence proving I’m not an evil person..."

Before Soveris could respond, Lancelot untied the Dimensional Bag at his waist and drew out two swords, one long and one short. The shorter sword’s blade was nearly transparent but sparkled with starlight when turned; the long sword was forged from a mysterious bluish-green metal, its entire body radiating a soft and holy white glow.

"Come, hold them in your hands and tell me what you feel..."

The moment these weapons appeared, the Elf’s face changed, and when he finally held the swords, his expression turned to one of reverent fear.

"This feeling... it’s like having goodness and justice in my hands..." Soveris choked out, tears silently rolling down his cheeks, "They... who are they, Sir?"

"One belonged to a former King Consort of the Aira Celestials, and the other to a seraph who gave everything to fight evil, but that’s another story."

"I understand." The Elf solemnly returned the two treasured swords to the weakened Knight, "I offer my sincerest apologies, Sir. To gain the recognition of these Holy Relics, you cannot possibly be an Abyssal Demon..."