Paladin of the Dead God

Bashul glanced back at Waltzemer and spoke.

“Your Majesty, you must survive to fulfill your responsibilities. Although I am no longer an imperial knight or anything else, I can consider this as fulfilling my duty.”

“Bashul…”

“I don’t plan on dying, so save the sentimental words for later.”

Dera Heman noticed Bashul standing in the white light and immediately charged at him, followed by several other paladins. The situation was far worse than when they fought in the library. However, Bashul swung his sword without hesitation.

Whoosh. A cloud of ash burst forth, filling the corridor.

“Go!”

Simultaneously, Isaac and Waltzemer began to run.

There was no reason they couldn’t defeat Dera Heman if they worked together with Archangel Ashen, but Lichtheim was the headquarters of the Codex of Light. If they delayed even a little in a fight here, it would be over.

‘If he’s with Ashen, he should be able to stall for time and find an opportunity to escape.’

That left Isaac with the role of getting Waltzemer out. After all, the one most likely to fail in escaping here was the former emperor.

***

Bashul sensed the presence of the two swiftly moving away and was satisfied.

The ash was thick enough to obscure the white light. Bashul didn’t waste a moment to attack from within the cover of the dust. He immediately charged at the paladin who entered the ash cloud.

Clang. However, his attack was deflected with a sharp metallic sound.

Whoosh… At the same time, the ash was blown away, centering around a subtle halo. The halo expanded and contracted like breathing, but Ashen’s ash dissipated wherever it touched.

The paladin wrapped entirely in a halo was Dera Heman.

Bashul was shocked that his surprise attack was so easily blocked by Dera Heman. The Imperial Guards’ swordsmanship is known for its speed and precision. Among them, Bashul was the chief knight. He didn’t expect such a distinct difference in skill, even while revealing his sword aura.

Dera Heman, realizing Bashul was a formidable opponent, gestured for the other paladins to retreat.

“You’re smart. You understand that mediocre fighters wouldn’t be any help in this fight?”

Dera Heman didn’t reply. But in that silence, Bashul could read his focus and skill. While paladins attain their status through superhuman training, Dera Heman was beyond the norm.

“I’ve heard rumors that you’re comparable to Kalsen Miller at his peak. But can a sheltered lackey like you compare to Kalsen, who rampaged on the battlefield? It’s amusing to see you boasting as the greatest paladin in such a safe place.”

Bashul attempted to provoke Dera Heman emotionally, but the latter didn’t budge. He simply stood silently with the Luadin Key, aiming at Bashul, before suddenly bringing down his sword without warning.

Clang. Bashul instinctively sidestepped instead of blocking. Even so, he felt a jolt in his palm like a hammer had struck him. He couldn’t believe the strength, even though he was drawing on Ashen’s power.

‘How many layers of miracles is he using? Can a human withstand this?’

Bashul immediately abandoned the idea of defeating Dera Heman head-on.

Instead, he decided to fully utilize Ashen’s doctrine.

Whoosh. Suddenly, Bashul’s body vanished, dissolving into ash. Simultaneously, he reappeared beside Dera Heman from the ash cloud, swinging his sword. The strike was easily blocked, and he received a counterattack to the chest.

But instead of screaming and collapsing, Bashul vanished, leaving only an empty shell made of ash.

This time, three Bashuls emerged from the ash cloud, attacking Dera Heman simultaneously. Dera Heman swiftly dispatched two and narrowly deflected the last Bashul’s attack, before landing a blow to his face.

However, when the third Bashul was struck, a burst of choking ash exploded into the air. Even with the halo he emitted, Dera Heman struggled to disperse the ash cloud, finding it hard to breathe.

Bashul was the chief knight of the Imperial Guard, known as the strongest among the imperial knights. Not being able to use miracles was his only flaw, but now, with the power of an angel, there was no reason he should be inferior to Dera Heman.

Amidst the thick ash, static electricity crackled. Beyond the ash cloud where Dera Heman wandered, Bashul was crouched, ready.

The ash was his eyes, ears, and senses.

Bashul could clearly see Dera Heman as if he were in his grasp.

‘Now.’

The Imperial Guard’s swordsmanship, which required the most agile movements, was activated.

Crack! Bashul’s body was enveloped in static electricity stored in the ash as he shot forward.

A bolt of lightning flying horizontally.

The tip of his sword was aimed precisely at Dera Heman’s head.

‘I won.’

Crack! The sound of metal tearing rang out, and Bashul was convinced of his victory. Guided by Ashen, his sword pierced the lion mask with seven eyes and split his head.

So he believed.

Bang. Bashul’s vision flipped over.

He couldn’t understand what had happened. All he saw was his right hand completely shattered and his sword, which had never been scratched during his time with the Imperial Guard, lying in pieces.

“Argh…!”

Whoosh! At the same time, a surge of heat pushed back the ash cloud. Bashul attempted to use Ashen’s abilities to restore his hand, but the charred stump refused to regenerate.

[Run.]

Suddenly, Ashen gave a command.

‘What?’

[You can’t win this. No human can. Retreat.]

Bashul was shocked to hear such words coming from an Archangel.

He looked back at Dera Heman.

The halo surrounding Dera Heman blazed violently, pushing back the ash as he approached. But that wasn’t the most alarming thing. Bashul saw Dera Heman’s face beneath the cracked mask.

Dera Heman’s face was grotesque.

His pale, featureless face bore only seven eyes. It was unclear how he ate or breathed. Bashul briefly thought Dera Heman might be wearing another mask beneath his mask. But it was undoubtedly his bare face.

If he were human, only miracles could keep him alive.

[He’s a holy body. His constitution allows him to inhale divine power like it’s air and exhale miracles like it’s nothing. He’s a human endlessly close to an angel. It’s no wonder he can coat his entire body in miracles and remain unharmed. Now I understand.]

‘A holy body? That thing?’

Its grotesque appearance indeed matched that of an angel. However, unlike the easily recognizable marks of a sacred body like Waltzemer’s, Dera Heman’s appearance was nothing short of sinister. Dera Heman picked up the broken mask from the floor and placed it over his face. However, the mask only covered half of his face.

At that moment, Dera Heman drew in a breath, and the ash surrounding Bashul was incinerated, disappearing in an instant. Bashul then realized that Ashen’s ash hadn’t simply vanished in the halo but was absorbed.

In essence, he was inadvertently adding strength to Dera Heman.

‘Is there any way to defeat that thing?’

[He is a creature that breathes divine power to survive. He’d find it hard to live outside of places like Lichtheim or the Holy Land where divine power is abundant. Or unless he’s constantly supported by a high-ranking priest or carries a dedicated sacred artifact.]

‘You’re saying that unless I drag him outside Lichtheim, there’s no way to kill him.’

[That’s why I’m telling you to flee. Knowing when to retreat is also a knight’s duty. Don’t you understand?]

Dera Heman was closing in on Bashul. However, Bashul didn’t run away.

He hadn’t yet bought enough time for Isaac to escape.

He switched the sword to his left hand to replace his shattered right one.

Dera Heman tilted his head, seemingly surprised.

“I apologize for calling you someone who boasted in safety because your constitution only allows you to survive in Lichtheim. I take that back.”

Instead of replying, Dera Heman simply watched him. Bashul, with a faint smile, prepared to swing his sword.

“But as a paladin who fought on the frontlines, I cannot show an unsightly side. As your senior, I’ll set an example for you.”

***

Splash.

In the southern marshes of Lichtheim, Isaac and Waltzemer emerged from the reeds along the riverbank. Although they were still close to Lichtheim, it seemed Bashul had done exceptionally well, given there were no pursuers.

‘He probably didn’t kill the Golden Lion Paladins. Perhaps he’s still evading them well.’

If Dera Heman’s abilities were as he remembered, Bashul couldn’t defeat him. As long as the location was right, even the true form of an angel would find Dera Heman a difficult opponent.

As Isaac wrung out his wet clothes, Waltzemer gazed toward the eastern sky where the sun was just beginning to rise. It was still dim with dawn, but no one doubted the bright sun would soon rise and paint the sky blue.

Whether the Emperor was excommunicated or trust in the Codex of Light was lost, the world simply carried on with its duties in silence.

This indifferent, steady order gave Waltzemer a sense of both resentment and reassurance.

“What do you plan to do now?”

“Well, what do you plan to do? Didn’t you say the Olkan Code had invaded?”

Isaac had already filled him in on their situation during their journey. From temporarily holding back the Olkan Code to promising Archangel Manseungja to halt the Great Raid in exchange for forbidden knowledge.

But Isaac had failed to acquire the forbidden knowledge. He had nothing to offer Manseungja.

Isaac absentmindedly flicked away the mud stuck to his head and looked up at the sky.

“Well… I promised Manseungja, so I should return to the estate. Although I’m uncertain about what to do, I’m not entirely without a plan.”

In truth, Isaac didn’t completely trust the promise with Manseungja. The army set in motion for the Great Raid was too significant to turn back for a piece of knowledge alone.

Relying on the goodwill of the powerful is foolish. One must always have a second and third strategy prepared.

Waltzemer gave a bitter smile at Isaac’s mention of having a plan.

“The empire owes so much to just one person like you. While I ruined everything with foolish ambition… Honestly, I have no plan. I’ve lost all means and methods, and I don’t know how to rise again.”

Isaac discerned the underlying message in Waltzemer’s words.

“Do you want to go to the Issacrea estate?”

“Is that possible?”

Isaac pondered for a moment.

Waltzemer was a dangerous yet powerful symbol. It could form a point of connection for alliances, not just with the Northern Alliance, which had lost Duke Brant, but also with Elil and the World’s Forge.

But he couldn’t be used openly. The Codex of Light would certainly react violently.

Isaac didn’t want the Lighthouse Keeper appearing over his estate.

“Go to Rougeberg.”

“…Rougeberg?”

“With Dietrich Brant dead, the Brant territory will be temporarily governed by Duchess Freya. For the sake of the family, Duchess Freya will likely turn a blind eye to her husband’s death. Otherwise, she might have to fight against the Church—against the Empire.”

“…”

“But she won’t forget. Neither will Isolde.”

Isaac pointed north.

“Go there and let yourself be used as a symbol of anti-church sentiment. Even if you’re treated harshly, accept it as fate. Duchess Freya and Isolde will find a useful role for you, even without your horns.”

Am I just dumping a useless and dangerous card on my in-laws?

In a way, yes. But to handle a wildcard like the excommunicated emperor effectively, he needs to be in the Brant territory rather than Issacrea. Isaac lacks the clarity needed to become a figurehead of the anti-church movement. His foundation is still based on being a ‘Paladin of the Codex of Light.’

Moreover, the Freya Brant Isaac remembered would thoroughly verify and confirm several times before exposing Waltzemer.

If Waltzemer stirs the church externally, Isaac will shake it internally.

“What if Duchess Freya hands me over to the church?”

“I told you, accept it as fate.”

Waltzemer burst into laughter. At that moment, he showed a glimpse of his old imperial self.

“Very well. But I can’t show up empty-handed when seeking their aid. I should bring a valuable gift so that Duchess Freya won’t abandon me.”

“Do you have something to offer?”

“A leader must always have an emergency fund.”

‘How proudly he says it.’

Isaac smirked internally but thought Waltzemer might be a decent leader after all.

In this era, leaders often equate national wealth with their own. However, the very concept of an emergency fund implies a distinction between public funds and personal assets, which is quite progressive.

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