Paladin of the Dead God

Isaac managed to stabilize the public sentiment in Kran Fortress by returning the looted goods and severely punishing the criminals. However, there was an even simpler and more effective method: aligning with the legitimate local leadership.

People have a psychological inertia; they don’t want the established order to collapse.

If Kran had a leader that Isaac could have persuaded to join his side, he wouldn’t have had to work so hard to control the public’s anger and prevent a revolt. Unfortunately, the king of Kran was now an undead outside the fortress, so Isaac had to bring in some moral justification.

Isaac had considered alternatives.

“Kran’s royal bloodline?”

“Yes. Batenna Kran must have had sons or daughters, right? Don’t tell me they were all captured and killed. Or perhaps they escaped with their father?”

Ciero looked puzzled at Isaac’s question.

“Well, I haven’t heard of anything like that, but I think there was a brother and sister.”

In the game, Kran Fortress was just a minor waypoint, only memorable because of its unique blessings, not because it was a significant strategic location.

After pondering for a moment, Isaac spoke up.

“If the children aren’t dead, Batenna Kran wouldn’t have taken them to the Immortal Order. Very few people are brave enough to bring their living children to that place.”

Isaac quickly changed his phrasing; he had almost said “no one” but remembered Angela, and the thought of her caused him to adjust. After all, it was because of her that he had rushed toward Odrif.

Isaac suddenly found himself missing the mercenaries and bandits that the Golden Idol Guild had sent relentlessly. If they were here, they could easily disrupt the Immortal Order.

“There’s a chance that someone among the residents is hiding them. Check with the servants, maids, or soldiers who worked at the palace.”

“You’re planning to take them as hostages?”

Ciero looked at Isaac as if he were contemplating something monstrous, and Isaac felt a gap between them.

He shook his head.

“That’s not my intention, but… it’ll inevitably look that way. But if we want to prevent the undead from swarming in through the secret passage, we need to catch them and show, ‘Your children are safe.’ We need to keep Batenna Kran from crossing the line.”

“A secret passage?”

Isaac, who was about to dismiss Ciero’s question with a brief command, felt a headache when he saw Ciero’s perplexed expression.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t checked for secret passages?”

“Do those… even exist?”

“Of course, they exist! How do you think Batenna Kran escaped after he was assassinated? Did he sneak past the main gates, teeming with Dawn Army members? Fortresses like this always have at least one or two secret passages. Dammit, you didn’t seal them, did you? Move!”

Ciero sprinted off like a horse whipped into action but hesitated and returned.

“Do we find the children first or the secret passage?”

“…Look for the heirs first! This is your chance to use your Nephilim charm to persuade them. I have a hunch where the secret passage might be.”

Ciero ran off again, with Devan following closely, looking conflicted. Isaac quietly watched their retreating figures before turning away.

‘It was worth mentioning the secret passage.’

It was time to make his move.

***

“Brother, this situation isn’t going well. What do we do?”

“Shut up. Dammit, if he’s a Holy Grail Knight, he should just fight monsters quietly. Why does he have to meddle with small folks like us…”

Devan anxiously chewed his nails as he paced around the room. He wasn’t pleased with the current situation.

When he first discovered Ciero, he found it intriguing. Some of his brothers had dismissed Ciero as a mere fanatical priest, but Devan didn’t think that way.

Ciero was lacking in many aspects, but he had a remarkable talent for incitement.

Devan, who considered himself adept at reading the times, foresaw that an era of madness and agitation was on the horizon.

Faith, nations—it didn’t matter. Those who couldn’t band together would be the first to die.

Devan became a fervent follower of Ciero and willingly joined his cause.

‘It was like that in the beginning. But then…’

Things took an unexpected turn.

Even Devan found himself influenced by Ciero.

It was as if he’d tried to deceive others, only to be deceived by his own lies.

Listening to Ciero’s impassioned speeches, Devan sometimes thought the man might genuinely mean what he said. As the Dawn Army’s madness swept through the empire, Devan even entertained the illusion that Ciero’s Dawn Army was invincible.

‘Things started to go awry from then on.’

Reality did not unfold according to Ciero’s eloquent speeches.

Ciero’s excellent rhetoric did not translate into the ability to manage an organization or command intelligence. Had Ciero been left to manage the Dawn Army alone, it would have been a sandcastle of a group, gathering people only to collapse repeatedly.

Devan, who had some experience in organizational management, took it upon himself to hold things together with sheer willpower and increasingly desperate measures.

It started with intimidation, then robbery, followed by looting… It quickly escalated to murder, justified by eliminating witnesses or preventing retaliation.

By then, Ciero’s Dawn Army had turned into an unstoppable monster.

People incapable of taking responsibility were controlling an organization that was too powerful for them.

Devan, and even Ciero, were terrified.

But there was no stopping now.

If they faltered here, the main Dawn Army would catch up and chastise them, asking, “Why haven’t you moved on?”

After hearing rumors of an angel appearing and annihilating an emperor, their compulsions only worsened.

But they lost battle after battle.

Facing Olkan Code’s orcs and undead was far different from extorting the meek and poor in the safe confines of the empire.

At that point, the Dawn Army began to crumble beyond Devan’s control.

And that’s when the tragedy occurred.

They killed the king of Kran.

“We never should have killed the king of Kran…”

Someone muttered bitterly, and Devan’s bloodshot eyes glared at him.

“Shut up!”

“…”

The man fell silent, but the resentment in his eyes did not disappear.

The killing of the king of Kran was not an accidental event—it was a deliberate murder.

Even in a small country, targeting royalty, especially a follower of the Codex of Light, made even Devan’s long-time brothers uncomfortable. After all, they were still part of the Dawn Army.

But Devan was desperate.

He had struggled to secure a base of operations, believing that having a stronghold would allow the army to regroup even if it temporarily fell apart. An organization with a base was fundamentally different from one without.

However, it was unthinkable to touch the Gerthonia Holy Empire, which was practically territory owned by the Codex of Light.

Kran Fortress appeared to be the perfect opportunity for Devan. It was a foreign country, a key location along the Dawn Army’s route, and protected by powerful blessings. If Ciero could lead the Dawn Army from this stronghold, it would be much safer to operate the organization. In some ways, it seemed like a secure escape fund for retirement.

But who could have anticipated that the king had a death insurance contract?

Afterward, the Death Knights and Lich of the Immortal Order attacked. Most of the Dawn Army, which had been camped outside the city walls, either fled or became zombies. Devan and his faction, who had been relieved to have taken the throne, were now trapped inside the fortress.

When Priest Ciero fled with a handful of his followers, the charm that had held Devan was completely shattered, especially when he realized that Ciero hadn’t taken him along.

‘Still, when Ciero returned with the Holy Grail Knight, I thought it was a chance to start over properly…’

Devan bit his lip and struck the wall.

Isaac already suspected him. Devan had thrown a few of the more extreme members of his group to Isaac as bait. Although he had silenced the last executed soldier before he could say anything incriminating, it hadn’t changed the suspicious looks directed at him.

Now, there was only one option left.

“…What about the children?”

“Ciero went to find them with some of our men. They’ll be found soon.”

In truth, Devan had already located the secret passage long ago, thanks to the bloodstains that Batenna Kran couldn’t hide when he fled. He hadn’t revealed it for fear that Ciero would run away again.

Devan muttered with bloodshot eyes.

“Bring them to me as soon as they’re found. Negotiating with King Kran outside the fortress is our only option.”

***

“Yes. You must be Lehena Kran, and you are Helga Kran.”

Ciero whispered as he looked at the small siblings before him. The young girl, Helga, was hiding behind her older brother, but Lehena was glaring fiercely at Ciero. Yet both were still cowering behind their maid.

They looked about twelve and nine years old—old enough to understand everything. The maid had stubbornly denied hiding the royal children, but she eventually relented under Ciero’s calm persuasion.

“If King Batenna Kran learns that the prince and princess are safe, will he withdraw?”

“Why do you think he hasn’t attacked outright? He’s afraid of hurting the royal heirs. Even if he pledged his soul to the Immortal Order, he wouldn’t want Kran to fall to the undead. Neither do the residents.”

The only way Ciero’s side could sway the residents was with the argument: “Humans are still better than the undead.” While some people are drawn to the allure of the undead, it’s still a niche fascination. Most people naturally feel a visceral revulsion toward the undead.

Ciero extended his hand toward Lehena, but the boy only glared and muttered.

“Murderer.”

Ciero had never killed a living person with his own hands—except maybe zombies—because he didn’t have the guts. But upon hearing the child’s harsh accusation, Ciero found himself unable to utter a single defense. The boy was right.

Only then did Ciero truly understand.

The blood on the hands of the Dawn Army was also on his own.

He was already one of the empire’s most notorious murderers, robbers, rapists, and arsonists.

‘I can’t undo what’s been done, but if I can’t even protect this child, I won’t be able to atone at all. Even having this opportunity is a miracle bestowed upon me…’

Ciero bowed humbly, assuming a reverent posture.

“I cannot undo my sins, Your Highness.”

Lehena continued to glare, skeptical of Ciero’s words.

“But I swear I will protect both of you with my life.”

Ciero resolved to protect the two siblings no matter what.

It might be a momentary whim, or perhaps arrogance, but Isaac had risked his life to show kindness to people he had never met before. Surely, Ciero could do at least this much.

Lehena was still trapped between fear and hatred. But the sincerity of a Nephilim’s appeal was too much for the emotional depth of a child to withstand. In the end, Lehena hesitated, but under the pretense of protecting his sister, he took Ciero’s hand.

The maid and attendants watching them finally let out a sigh of relief.

***

Ciero led the Kran siblings back toward the fortress.

Now that the heirs were secured, there might be a chance to negotiate with King Kran. Ciero was already considering releasing the heirs in exchange for a safe escape route for the Dawn Army. As Isaac had pointed out, it might look like they were hostages, but it was better than letting the children get caught in the chaos of war. Zombies wouldn’t spare them just because they were royalty.

Then, Ciero suddenly realized that the path they were taking back to the fortress was different from the one they had used before. Ciero turned to the two men escorting them and asked.

“Is this the right way? It’s getting narrower and darker.”

“Ah, this route is quicker.”

Not yet familiar with the layout of Kran, Ciero accepted the answer, though he still felt uneasy. It wasn’t a suitable path for escorting children.

“We should stick to a larger road. This one’s too messy.”

“If you prefer, we can take the children. Priest Ciero, you can take the main road…”

Ciero’s sense of unease intensified. He subtly pushed the children behind him and spoke.

“You two have been sticking to my side all this time, and now you want me to go separately? What’s your plan? If you don’t explain, I’ll report this to Devan…”

The two escorts exchanged awkward glances before suddenly lunging forward and striking Ciero’s face. The nose Ciero had only just managed to mend was smashed again, and he collapsed. One of the men drew a dagger and pressed it against Ciero’s throat, whispering.

“Don’t think about using any miracles. The kids will burn with you if you try anything.”

The children, who had tried to run, were already in the hands of the men. Ciero’s body froze, unable to do anything, and the man laughed mockingly as they prepared to leave. In a desperate impulse, Ciero lunged and grabbed the men’s legs.

“What the—!”

“Take me too!”

The man, startled by Ciero’s sudden move, kicked him away, but Ciero, rolling in the dirt, still clung tightly to his leg.

“You’re trying to escape! You know the secret passage, don’t you? You’re planning to take the kids as hostages and run! Take me too, you bastards! Take me with you!”

The men exchanged bewildered looks, some of them visibly disappointed. Finally, the one whose leg Ciero clung to spat on him. Ciero remained unmoving, even as the spit hit his face.

“Well, whatever. Having the priest and poster boy around won’t hurt. Let’s do that.”

“Thank you, thank you!”

Ciero staggered to his feet, following the men. His position among them was now drastically different, but Ciero, covered in filth, didn’t care.

His eyes remained fixed on the two siblings, his fingers scratching nervously at his ears.

Praying that Isaac would understand what was happening.