The Paladin in the Abyss

"Thank you, my Goddess," Kalalin exclaimed with half a kneel on the ground, kissing the fingers of the Goddess of Magic, "I will forever honor Your name..."

"Such formalities are unnecessary, assisting gifted spellcasters is my responsibility," Mistrala said elegantly, bending down gently but firmly to help the Scholar stand, "I am aware of every spell ever cast, and your talent for creating new spells is impressive—I quite like that little trick called 'Smile of the Wind.' I hope this gift will make your 'creations' a little easier."

"Silverfire," Cranvo spoke from his throne, "aren't you worried he will be recognized by Shrek?"

"Oh? You know of this? But worry not, aside from another who possesses Silverfire, no one will know he holds that power within him..." the Goddess of Magic replied in a displeased tone and then turned to look at Kalalin, "However, an Elect's Silverfire is as conspicuous as a lighthouse, such power is unbearable for the common folk, I have only given a spark, as for how brightly it will burn, that depends on how far you can walk on the path of magic..."

"Cough cough!" Bruto suddenly coughed loudly, attracting the attention of everyone in the hall, "Um... by the gods above... can any of you tell me what must be done to retrieve my father's soul? Why is this matter possibly related to Shrek?"

"You should not utter that name so lightly, at least not after you leave my Divine Kingdom, it could attract his attention," Cranvo said seriously, "As for why we suspect Shrek... Ordinary mortals are incapable of concealing a soul in a place I cannot find, not even the Demon Lord can do that, only a god has such power—as the God of Thieves once hid me."

"Whoever has hidden my father will be smashed to bits by my hammer!" Bruto stomped his foot fiercely, "Even if it's a deity!"

"Do not let appearances deceive you, young Dwarf, while Shrek certainly plays a role in this affair, that does not mean he is the mastermind," the Goddess of Magic warned, "Whatever Shrek's true purpose is, the outcome will surely bring more destruction and calamity to the Multiverse... There are too many questions that urgently need answers, and your responsibility is great."

"And I bless you all," the King of the Dead stood up from his throne, pausing his gaze on each person, "No magic or Divine Arts can imprison your souls, once dead, you will surely return to my realm, and afterward, you can be resurrected through the Divine Arts cast by your companions..."

"What if every one of us dies?" Although it was an ominous question, Bruto could not help but ask.

"...As the Grim Reaper, I have rules I must adhere to."

"This is good enough for now," Lancelot intervened, "Great King of the Dead, esteemed Lady of Magic, what should we do next?"

"You all acted very swiftly, whatever the killer of Barrend intends to do with his soul, they certainly haven't had enough time to complete it. Next..." Cranvo turned his silver-masked face towards his companion, who nodded reluctantly. He continued, "At midnight... Mistrala will send you to the Fallen Shadow Plane, the last place where Barrend's soul was seen. Use that spell you cast before once more; it should provide the next clue. Beyond that, you're on your own..."

"Understood," Lancelot nodded, "Then please begin, we are ready."

"Admirable courage," the Goddess of Magic drew circles in the air with her finger while turning to look at the masked Grim Reaper, "It reminds me of something familiar..."

"Courage takes many forms, my lady," Cranvo answered indifferently, "One day you will understand my..."

"Heh, will I? When's that?"

"We have time. Lots of time..."

"Uh...the portal, is it ready yet?" Lancelot spoke up, interrupting what seemed to be an argument between the two deities, "Sorry, just wanted to say our goodbyes..."

"And... no fighting, alright? If you must argue, best do it in each other's arms..." the Elf Priest added from the side, but Lancelot quickly covered Alamir's mouth, shouting, "Alright, alright, let's go!"

The Elf Priest feigned a dramatic struggle, while Lancelot cooperatively 'forcefully' hugged him into the portal—if this somewhat comical scene could slightly ease the tension between two former lovers, then Alamir's goal was reached.

Passing through the interdimensional portal crafted by the Goddess of Magic herself was both a familiar and surprisingly natural experience—it was as easy as if one were passing through an ordinary door.

However, the difference between the two worlds was stark. Lancelot felt as if he stepped from the warmth of an indoor winter haven directly into an icy, snow-covered outdoors. Within a single day, the Human Knight had traversed three different planes, and of those, the Fallen Shadow Netherworld felt the worst: anyone arriving in this plane would immediately notice only three colors—black, white, gray. There were no sun or moon in the sky, nor any speck of star dust, only a gray chaos casting a trivial amount of light upon the land below.

The group found themselves in a clearing, surrounded by a dark forest, standing on gray ground with grass that blended shades of black and gray—all of which was extremely eerie.

Lancelot's sharp hearing caught a subtle noise; he spun around, Longsword pointed in the direction of the sound. The fierce intensity of his aura frightened some shadowy creature there, which resembled a wolf and hurriedly fled. Bruto instinctively reached for his Warhammer, but Lancelot stayed his hand.

"To it, we are the intruders," Lancelot explained to the Dwarf, "Kalalin, is there anything you can tell us about this plane?"

"I only know some rumors and gossip, as you know, this isn't my field of study..."

"It seems you do know something. Go on, why does this place feel so... eerie? At first glance, it seems like a reflection of the material world, but I have a feeling it's different..."

"Your intuition is correct," the Scholar stroked his chin, "The Fallen Shadow Plane is indeed a mirror, but it only reflects the darkest aspects of all things..."