The Paladin in the Abyss Chapter 282: 276 Land of Hope

Chapter 282: Chapter 276 Land of Hope

Happy tis are always fleeting, and about half an hour later, the two arrived at the edge of the Miasma Swamp. There seed to be an invisible boundary line on the ground, separating the dense forest and the grassland.

“Alright, it’s ti to go back,” Lancelot patted little Esha on the head. Although still in the shadows, the little girl’s spirit was very low, as if the destructive power contained in the sunlight was going to make her collapse.

“I really miss the feeling of basking in the sun,” the girl said with a look of fear and nostalgia, then regretfully shook her head, and with a poof, she transford into a small bat and slipped into the Human Knight’s Dinsional Bag at his waist.

“I will find a way, don’t worry.”

Although the other party could no longer hear him, Lancelot still spoke the words, sounding more like a reminder to himself. Then he took a step forward, leaving the Miasma Swamp, which he had greatly disturbed, behind him.

If judged by the standards of the Pri Material Plane, the ground beneath his feet was very desolate, but it was much better compared to the Plains of the Abyss or the Great Abyss. Sparse weeds dotted the ground, and the soil was not the kind of hard clods that had been baked and cracked by the sun, which made Lancelot even more curious about what a region belonging to the good side would look like.

Continuing to walk less than a mile forward, the Human Knight ca upon a wide river, the very Hoffenstan River that splits this plane in two. The water was a deep blue, as pure as that of the sea, and Lancelot sensed various weak animal presences in the river, likely ordinary fish and shrimp, a sharp contrast to the Stygian River, which was always filled with death and decay.

According to the knowledge inherited from the High Priest of the Elves, Hofenstan in the ancient elven language ans ‘Land of Hope,’ and from the Human Knight’s current position, the river’s opposite bank with its lush green grass and the scene brimming with vitality indeed gave a hopeful feeling.

Lancelot was not sure how his companions had crossed the river, but naturally, this was no problem for him. With a slight concentration of True Yuan in his feet, he simply walked forward.

The surging surface of the water seed to beco solid under his feet, and although Lancelot’s movents were not large, he could stride tens of feet at a ti, each step generating only small ripples on the tumultuous surface. Although with his cultivation at the Foundation Establishnt Stage, he could not yet fly by manipulating the qi, but with his exquisite movent technique and the use of True Yuan, walking on water was not difficult.

Soon, his steel boots were once again on solid ground. Lancelot looked around and found that the environnt was even better than what it looked like from the other side of the river.

The grass underfoot was lush and just over the tops of his shoes; clumps of bushes full of blooming flowers were sporadically distributed across the land, surrounded by bees and butterflies; the forest in the distance was utterly different from the gloomy and twisted Miasma Swamp, seeming invigorating to the spirit; even the sky appeared bluer, and the clouds were a dreamy light purple, their shapes…

So resembled cute animals, so were like beautiful flowers, and there were even so that looked exactly like sofas. But once these clouds drifted over the Hoffenstan River, they quickly twisted into demon faces, terrible torture devices, broken bodies, but mostly, they rapidly disintegrated into aningless fragnts.

This bizarre phenonon clearly resulted from so mysterious force at work, though it was unclear whether it was the result of wizard battles or directly influenced by the gathering of good and evil forces affecting the environnt of this layer.

Lancelot closed his eyes and carefully sensed his surroundings but could not detect the aura of Bruto and the others. Fortunately, he had seen Androlina’s map, and the Miasma Swamp he had just left was located in the northeast of this small plane, while the good side’s base, lanthan, was to the southwest. Thus, as long as he headed in that direction, he was certain to encounter his companions.

Although he himself wasn’t slow on foot, it seed like a waste not to ride a horse on such fine grassland.

Lancelot began to cast the spell to summon his warhorse. It was the first ti he had used the magic since his Foundation Establishnt, and previously, Lancelot had simply followed the Elves’ guidance, performing hand gestures and chanting spells, but this experience felt quite different.

As the spell left his lips, he clearly felt so energy around him activate, and his hand gestures ‘tweaked’ the combination of these energies. Lancelot had heard Kalalin explain the principles of magic before, manipulating the Magic Net to ‘alter’ reality, and he had just directly sensed the process of casting a spell.

Based on Lancelot’s own experience, casting magic, or rather, Arcane, was fundantally different from the various Divine Skills and Immortal Law used by Spiritual Cultivators. It wasn’t that Spiritual Cultivators relied entirely on their own power to cast spells—many Divine Skills directly mobilized the surrounding nature’s spiritual energy, but at their core was the use of energy.

This difference was hard to put into words. To give an imperfect example, magic was like a childhood ga: with a few matchsticks arranged into numbers and symbols, moving one or two matchsticks could completely change their aning.

On the other hand, the technique of a Spiritual Cultivator was more like… taking out a handful of ground wood chips, with the shape you wanted to arrange them into entirely up to you.

Each thod had its own advantages and disadvantages. The Arcane thod of ‘moving matchsticks’ was more stable, but it required the Spellcaster to accurately rember the thod of ‘moving matchsticks’; any small error could lead to serious casting accidents. Moreover, if one inherently lacked the ability to ‘move matchsticks,’ like Kalalin, they could only resort to tools such as scrolls and Magic Wands to cast spells.

As for the way of the Spiritual Cultivators, it seed to be a thod closer to ‘Tao’?

‘Tao’ was also a concept ntioned in the little bamboo slips, and its specific aning was difficult to describe in words. It could refer to ‘the Essence of all things’ as well as ‘the rules of the universe.’ Han Tianzun clearly stated in his treatise on Spiritual Cultivation that such a semi-understanding of ‘Tao’ was entirely normal, and in a sense, Spiritual Cultivation itself was an ongoing process of exploring the Essence of the ‘Tao’.

These words, although not particularly helpful in Lancelot’s understanding of ‘Tao,’ at least reassured him with the fact that even an individual as powerful as Han Tianzun had not fully grasped the aning of ‘Tao.’ Therefore, as a small Cultivator at the Foundation Establishnt Stage, he needn’t be troubled by his inability to comprehend what ‘Tao’ was.

As a flash of white light passed, the awe-inspiring Demon warhorse appeared once again before Lancelot. It instinctively tried to bite the creature that dared to summon it, but a punch squarely to the face made the beast quickly realize the situation at hand.