Paladin of the Dead God

Isaac could clearly sense the abnormal events occurring within the Issacrea estate. Fortunately, the miracle of the Orc Horde was something he had somewhat anticipated, so he had already requisitioned most of the food supplies and stored them in the monastery.

The food stored in the monastery was protected by the priests and sacred artifacts. However, just like everyone else, they couldn’t prevent people from stashing away extra food in their own pockets. As a result, any food that the residents had hidden away for emergencies was completely looted.

‘It can’t be helped.’

If they had tried to confiscate even what was hidden in private stashes, the residents’ morale would have hit rock bottom. Some might have even tried to flee before the battle began. However, having seen the orcs loot their food right before their eyes, that anger would now be directed squarely at the Olkan Code.

The monastery had more than enough food, even when considering distribution to all the residents. Compared to the rapidly rotting food under the Olkan Code, they could hold out much longer.

Sh-sh-sh-sh… At Isaac’s command, Hectali began to move the forest, twisting the terrain. The goal was to make the orcs lose their way and head off in the wrong direction. However, the shamans of the Olkan Code were not so easily deterred as to leave the miracles happening in real-time unchecked.

As Hectali was intricately weaving the paths of the forest, she suddenly snapped her neck 180 degrees and stopped moving.

‘An evil spirit has attached itself to me, Isaac.’

‘Alright. Take a break.’

The shamans had keenly sensed where the miracle was being performed and had sent an evil spirit to cast a deadly curse.

If it had been a typical human priest, they would have died the moment their neck snapped, but Hectali’s form, closer to a plant than a human, didn’t even have a clear “neck” to speak of. However, since it was difficult to remove such a powerful curse, Isaac ordered Hectali to rest.

‘Traelgul? Still can’t move?’

‘…’

There was almost no will to respond from Traelgul, the lord of the castle. When Sahulan Khan had fired the Netherworld into the Pers Valley, Traelgul had been nearby. Perhaps he had been shattered into pieces by that strike. Although he wasn’t completely dead, it didn’t seem like he would be of any help. The mist he had summoned was also naturally dissipating.

In the meantime, Isaac was heading to the location where Hesabel had fallen. He had sent Zihilrat to Nel, who had fallen far away, but in this situation, Nel might actually be safer.

There were too many shamans, too many armies, and too many miracles being unleashed all at once.

In fact, this was the normal course of events. No matter how hard Isaac tried, his opponents were nations, religions, and peoples. No amount of tricks by a single individual could overturn that power.

Cutting off supplies and food spoilage? The orcs of the Olkan Code considered the corpses of their comrades as emergency rations. It wasn’t something they preferred, but in dire situations, they could eat them. It was an efficient use of resources.

More dead orcs meant more food.

Sniping and lowering morale? With just Hesabel, effective sniping was impossible. Given the disparity in power, expecting a significant drop in morale was unrealistic. Assassinating the shamans to instill fear, as had been done in Soir, was also not feasible due to their sheer numbers.

Isaac’s minions? The ancient gods were nothing more than slightly stronger monsters. While Isaac himself was strong enough to compete for rank even within the Olkan Code, his subordinates were not on the same level. Moreover, there were plenty of powerful beings even within the Olkan Code.

For example, Atlan, who was currently holding Hesabel by the throat.

***

“Isaac, you’re here.”

Atlan spoke as he coldly stared at Isaac. Hesabel, with her neck gripped tightly, struggled to scratch and pinch Atlan’s hand, but she didn’t seem to have the strength to do more. Her wings were broken, likely from wrapping them around herself to shield from the fall.

“She’s a sharp woman. It’s not easy to avoid the Netherworld, but your winged pet managed it as well. Is she your woman?”

“No. I’m a married man.”

“I figured. A woman from the Red Chalice isn’t a good wife material.”

Isaac didn’t bother asking since when they had become close enough to discuss girlfriends. There were more provocative words to use.

“Still, it’s better than bedding a horse.”

Atlan’s expression hardened.

Isaac’s remark hit Atlan’s only complex—the great and powerful warrior of the Olkan Code. While most orcs didn’t see it as a major flaw, Atlan was particularly conscious of it.

Atlan tightened his grip on Hesabel’s throat. Her face flushed red.

“Do you want to watch your subordinate die before your eyes?”

“You’re not going to kill her.”

Isaac responded calmly.

“If you were going to, you would have done it before I got here. You’ve been waiting because you want to fight me again, haven’t you?”

Atlan bared his fangs in a grin.

The Olkan Code didn’t obsess over honorable duels like Elil did. However, they did respect blood-soaked battles that showcased each other’s valor. Of course, they were more rational than the knights of Elil in that they had no qualms about using dirty tricks if things went south.

“Yes. I’m glad you understand. Let’s settle the score from last time!”

Atlan flung Hesabel aside and charged at Isaac with two scimitars.

Boom. The ground trembled as his four hooves thundered forward, and Atlan charged with incredible speed.

Isaac had no intention of taking the charge of a nearly one-ton behemoth head-on. He swiftly dodged, slipping into Atlan’s blind spot. Though he avoided the swords, he was still in a position to be trampled underfoot, but Isaac didn’t hesitate. He instead inflicted a wound on Atlan’s leg and quickly moved to Hesabel’s side.

Atlan snorted, looking slightly disappointed. Isaac checked Hesabel’s condition.

“Hesabel, can you escape?”

“I can fight, Sir Isaac.”

“It’s worse for me if you get taken hostage. I’ve already invested too much in you. I believe your future value will steadily increase, so don’t put on a brave front here. If you escape, I’ll have a better chance to run myself.”

Hesabel understood roughly what Isaac meant and nodded. Her earlier claim to be able to fight had been just to make a good impression.

Hesabel glared at Atlan for a moment before quickly fleeing. As expected, Atlan didn’t pursue her. Instead, he turned his warning to Isaac.

“If you run, next time, I’ll kill everyone around you to make sure you come to me yourself.”

“Do I owe you a grudge? What do you want? To slay a monster and prove your valor?”

“I just feel like I’ve met a worthy opponent. The Olkan Code no longer has anyone who can challenge me.”

He must have been excluding Sahulan Khan. The Kheshig couldn’t retaliate even if the Khan attacked. Isaac sighed and raised his sword. Atlan spun his scimitars in a flourish before charging again.

Boom, boom, boom! The two scimitars slashed at Isaac with blinding speed. The tremendous weight, power, and speed behind the swords made even Isaac’s arms go numb. Though Kaldwin withstood the impact, the damage steadily accumulated in Isaac’s bones.

“Is this all you’ve got, the famous Grail Knight of the West!”

At that moment, Atlan suddenly lowered his body and then sprang forward like a launched arrow. It was one of Atlan’s advanced sword techniques. Isaac quickly employed his Eight Branches Strike to narrowly deflect the incoming scimitars.

Boom! Boom! Boom! Atlan reappeared far behind him, as if he had pierced right through Isaac. Thick trees along his path were sliced cleanly and toppled over. Isaac could only imagine the countless soldiers that would have been cut down if this had been a battlefield.

Atlan bared his teeth and spoke.

“Bring it out.”

“What?”

“That thing. The tentacle. I was caught off guard last time. Manseungja won’t be intervening this time, so bring it out. I’ll show you my true power.”

It seemed that being knocked out by the Abyssal Grasp last time had been a severe blow to his pride. Isaac wondered just how far Atlan’s arrogance would go. But now that Hesabel was far away, Isaac decided to teach him a lesson in humility.

Isaac raised his left hand as if to grant Atlan’s wish. The Color from Beyond began to ooze out, enveloping him. Atlan, sensing the shift, braced himself, raising his swords. The Color from Beyond swelled like a tall tree. Then suddenly, it formed a writhing vortex, from which an enormous tentacle burst forth. This tentacle was far larger and thicker than the one that had struck Atlan before, and it came down on him in a single blow.

At that moment, Atlan let out a fierce roar and slashed at the tentacle with his scimitars.

Thud! Thud! The two scimitars shredded the tentacle into three pieces in an instant. The gushing fluids drenched Atlan’s body as the tentacle let out an eerie wail and retreated back into the Color. Covered in the hot

, viscous liquid, Atlan roared in triumph.

“You look pleased.”

Isaac’s voice echoed from beyond the Color. Atlan, still high on his victory, pointed his scimitars at Isaac. Now that he had overcome the tentacle, Isaac was no longer a match for him.

However, as the Color dissipated and revealed Isaac’s figure, he didn’t seem at all diminished in spirit. In fact, he looked at Atlan with a faintly amused expression, as if he found the situation ridiculous. Moreover, something about him had subtly changed.

“I acknowledge it. You are the strongest warrior of the Olkan Code.”

Isaac was now wrapped in crimson tentacles around his neck, shoulders, and even parts of his face. Atlan, seeing that even Isaac’s eyes were covered with fine, glistening tendrils, realized that Isaac was up to something. He hurriedly raised his scimitars.

“But you’re not the strongest here.”

Isaac quietly took a step forward.

***

Isaac recalled his duel with Elil.

Someone like Atlan was, of course, nothing compared to Elil. But focusing and gathering his strength as he did during that fight would make it difficult for Isaac’s body to hold out even for a brief moment. That duel had been possible only because it was with Urbansus.

But having witnessed Elil’s light-swallowing sword that could cause a nuclear explosion, Isaac had wondered how he could possibly counter it.

It was not an easy question.

Even a genius like Isaac could only fumble with vague concepts, trying to piece them together. However, today, at this very moment, while facing the Olkan Code, Isaac finally obtained a complete image.

A sword that could swallow light.

The fact that Atlan reminded him of Elil was enough for Isaac to acknowledge his strength.

Therefore, Isaac decided to show Atlan a sword deserving of reverence.

Isaac’s Swordsmanship: Event Horizon.

Atlan felt his vision distort.

The world caved in around Isaac’s sword. The most ferocious predator, one that even devoured light, with an insatiable hunger, had opened its maw.

Atlan couldn’t recognize or comprehend what it was.

He instinctively tried to retreat but soon realized it was impossible.

Isaac was still far away. Yet, his sword was already slicing him in half. It was a predetermined outcome, an inevitable result, and Atlan was merely lingering in the past.

It was a phenomenon that should have been impossible, but here, it was.

In this place, inside the event horizon, no one could escape, and no one could observe what was happening. They could only wait for the moment when they would be devoured by that monstrous predator.

Calmly, as if following a predetermined script, Isaac’s sword approached. Atlan, as if performing in a play, raised his scimitars to block. The two scimitars, blessed by angels and imbued with holy power, shattered like they were being chewed up before Isaac’s blade. Atlan’s arms broke under the strain.

And then…

Boom! The gust of wind created by the impact sent Atlan’s body flying. The air, which had briefly gathered in one place, dispersed all at once, creating a near-explosive shockwave. Atlan tried to stand up but collapsed again.

He had clearly seen his own future of being split in half. Yet, he couldn’t understand why he was still alive.

In the center of the clearing stood Isaac. Around him, the trees, rocks, and ground seemed to bow toward him, as if worshiping.

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