Paladin of the Dead God

Chapter 93:

Isaac had made a rushed assault to quickly clear the surroundings of the castle and to support the blacksmith.

“Hasabel, have you not found him yet?”

“Not yet. He’s well hidden.”

Isaac had sent not only Isolde but also Hasabel ahead as reinforcements. The night was Hasabel’s main stage, and assassination was her specialty. She had been searching around the procession at the northern edge, trying to find the priest believed to be a key figure of the Immortal Order, even before Isolde arrived.

While she managed to decapitate the attacking undead from time to time, she had yet to find the priest, their most important target.

“Zihilrat, how’s the situation?”

Instead of answering, Zihilrat shared his senses with Isaac. Zihilrat, akin to Isaac’s summon, could share sensations through his ability ‘Mouse in the Wall’. Wearing Baxter’s skin and dispatched as reinforcements along with Isolde, Zihilrat was in the midst of fierce combat.

The fire beasts summoned by Isolde were illuminating the surroundings, allowing for a clear view of the situation.

“The situation doesn’t look good.”

Though fewer in number than the zombies surrounding the castle, there was a considerable presence of what could be considered elite skeleton soldiers. Fortunately, there were no Death Knights in sight, and the wagon that the northern edge procession had arrived in seemed out of the ordinary.

“What’s that?”

It was unclear what it was, but a skeleton soldier that approached was electrocuted or something similar, then shattered by a scimitar wielded by a northern edge trader.

It seemed to be the blacksmith.

It looked like they were holding out because of this ability, but it didn’t seem like it could be used indefinitely. The priest of the Immortal Order would have learned of the battle’s outcome at the lord’s castle by now and would be hurrying to find a way to break through.

Then, the awaited information came from Hasabel.

“I think I’ve found it.”

“What does he look like?”

“Black robe, golden halo, skull lantern, in front of a bonfire.”

Isaac’s eyes sparkled. He immediately recognized who it was.

“The Liberation Bishop, Al Duard.”

He was too famous an NPC in the original game to be unknown. Echoing Isaac’s knowledge, a message from the Nameless Chaos was delivered.

[The Nameless Chaos watches over you.]

[The Nameless Chaos desires the demise of the Liberation Bishop ‘Al Duard’.]

[The reward of Chaos awaits you.]

***

“Just hold on a little longer! If we hold, we can win!”

“Holding out won’t do! We need to break through!”

Arriving as reinforcements, Isolde felt like she was going out of her mind.

Until she arrived, she was full of worries about how to calm and rescue the merchants, who she thought would be scared and frightened. She was bracing for a tough fight, even preparing for extreme situations. But upon arrival, the situation was different from what she had imagined.

The merchants were holding their ground too well.

They were repelling the undead forces converging on them in the middle of the bridge, centered around their strange wagon. Whenever the odd wagon emitted a bizarre wave, the undead of the Immortal Order staggered and were unable to move. Moreover, the people she had assumed to be mere merchants were all robustly built, with dark skin, wielding wide scimitars as if they were extensions of their own limbs.

Even a man named Eidan, who looked genuinely like a merchant with a weak appearance, was skillfully fighting with a scimitar in each hand.

‘Why are the guildsmen of the Salt Council here, so far inland?’

Isolde, true to her role as an inquisitor, recognized that they were not ordinary merchants but followers of the Salt Council. However, she had no time to delve into that matter. Finding a way to survive was more urgent. Even though they were holding off the enemies surprisingly well, the number of enemies was overwhelming. Moreover, there was no telling when a high-ranking undead might appear.

“How can we deal with this undead army if we leave the bridge now?! We must hold out until sunrise!”

“The monastery side is already struggling just to hold out! I will try to break through so we can join forces with the power at the lord’s castle!”

Isolde, not yet aware of the overwhelming victory at the Isacre Monastery, saw joining forces with Isaac as the way to survive. On the other hand, Eidan believed that if they could hold out on the bridge until sunrise, they could win.

“Why isn’t Lord Isaac coming?!”

Eidan cried out desperately.

Isaac is both the abbot and the lord. It was natural for him to prioritize the protection of his own people. To come rushing out to save the merchants? Although Eidan mentioned it because he was promised protection, Isolde, unaware of the circumstances, was left speechless.

It would have been better if their opinions were unified, but either way, the situation was difficult. Isolde actually saw breaking through as difficult, and Eidan, too, thought it hard to survive until sunrise, so he couldn’t forcefully push his opinion.

“We must at least hold out until reinforcements arrive from the castle! We can’t do anything in this situation!”

Eidan’s words made Isolde agree, at least this time. It was hard to give up the geographical advantage of the bridge. However, Isolde felt a sense of self-loathing for being unable to do much even after coming to rescue.

‘If Isaac had been here instead…’

Of course, Isaac had to be at the monastery to protect more people. But she couldn’t shake the thought that if Isaac had been here, he would have been able to do more than she could. Even Eidan had shown an openly disappointed face when the rescue forces arrived.

Thump. Then, a wave was emitted from the wagon once again. Isolde felt a slight sense of alienation but nothing else, while the skeleton soldiers slinking across the bridge hesitated and stopped in their tracks when they encountered the merchants of the northern edge. The merchants did not miss the opportunity to smash their skulls.

The wave emitted by the wagon was undoubtedly a miracle. The vibration of ultra-low frequency, inaudible to ordinary people but specifically affecting certain targets, could not be explained as anything but a miracle. Isolde realized it was a heretic miracle but did not show it. There were more important matters at hand.

‘The interval between waves is getting longer.’

Since miracles couldn’t be used indefinitely, it was right to break through and find an escape route. Otherwise, they would be surrounded and annihilated. If they could get close to the castle, reinforcements would help.

Isolde gritted her teeth.

“I will lead the way, everyone follow me…”

Kugugugung.

At that moment, a massive vibration that even the darkness seemed to tremble at was felt from the mountain side. Isolde saw dust rising from the direction of the mountain. And through the rows of trees, she spotted a flaming sword. She immediately knew who the sword’s bearer was.

“Isaac…!”

***

The Immortal Order believes that human souls are trapped in their bodies and must be “liberated.”

According to them, the existence of a physical body leads to the suffering of life and death, resulting in disparities in wealth, discrimination, and conflict. Indeed, those who have become undead do not suffer from the physical distinctions or the pains of living and dying, making their logic sound plausible at first.

However, ironically, the Immortal Order itself was not free from disparities in wealth or discrimination. After all, it was still a community of people, minus the flesh.

But more importantly, within the Immortal Order, there was a division between moderates and extremists regarding the concept of “liberation.”

Moderates thought that people would gradually become liberated over time anyway, while extremists argued for more proactive measures to liberate others.

The “Liberation Bishops” belonged to the extremist faction, venturing outside the Order’s territory to carry out “liberation” operations.

They could be seen as somewhat radical evangelists.

From the victims’ perspective, they were simply terrorists, but from the perspective of the Black Empire, which needed to steadily increase its population, the rampages of the Liberation Bishops were sometimes deliberately overlooked.

However, the experienced Liberation Bishop, Al Duard, was feeling a minor annoyance in this operation.

‘To be entangled with a Holy Grail Knight, of all things.’

The Liberation Bishop’s main targets were the unprotected residents of the borderlands and Barbarians. The Immortal Order, despite being antagonistic to the Codex of Light, didn’t immediately resort to physical confrontations upon encounter to avoid diplomatic issues.

For Al Duard, “liberating” the citizens was of utmost importance. Pointlessly tangling with the Codex of Light within the territory of the White Empire and getting chased by paladins would result in losing the liberated zones he worked hard to create.

Thus, Al Duard was initially reluctant about this operation.

Attacking a monastery, especially one under the protection of the recently famous Holy Grail Knight?

However, Al Duard had no choice but to follow through with the mission.

It was a direct order from the Immortal Emperor Beshek, the god he served.

‘I thought securing the blacksmith would be enough…’

It was supposed to be an easy task. However, the sudden intrusion of the inquisitor and paladins complicated matters. As a Liberation Bishop, he had the power to annihilate them instantly. But ensuring the blacksmith’s safety in the process was uncertain, and if the paladins and inquisitor were to be massacred, it would surely cause an uproar from the Codex of Light.

When the zombie forces sent to the lord’s castle were decimated, he had no choice but to stand up.

‘It seems I must take matters into my own hands.’

He hoped the Holy Grail Knight would be slightly delayed by the victory’s aftermath and damage assessment.

At that moment, something caught in Al Duard’s senses as he stood in front of the bonfire. Something fast, powerful, filled with fear and destruction.

The moment his skull turned, the world in front of him was torn apart.

Crack!

A giant tentacle tearing through the darkness from the sky swept away Al Duard along with the bonfire, erasing him as if sweeping the foothills with a broom. The tentacle, as thick as a sturdy oak tree, devoured the debris and vanished back into the darkness.

Atop the ruins, Isaac’s horse galloped forward.

Despite the ghastly scene, Isaac kept his vigilance, surveying his surroundings.

The next moment, he felt a chilling presence and twisted his body strongly. No sound or visible effect was evident, but it felt as if a cold hand had grasped Isaac’s heart. His horse collapsed without even a whimper or scream.

Isaac quickly leaped from the horse but was startled to see it dead on the spot.

“A death curse right off the bat? You’re quite something.”

Isaac lifted the Luadin key, illuminating the surroundings.

The surroundings lit up, revealing a silhouette burning in blue flames. It was a Lich, dressed in a black robe with a golden halo around its neck, holding its head like a lantern, and glaring at Isaac, just as Hasabel described.

Isaac closely observed the golden halo of Al Duard, noticing a black pattern burning away.

Meanwhile, Al Duard was beyond disbelief, astonished.

‘He avoided the death curse? Without even knowing where it was cast from?’

Al Duard couldn’t even guess what had swept him away. It was clear it wasn’t a miracle from the Codex of Light, but whether it was a summoned entity or a one-time miracle was unknown.

He had planned to feign death and ambush Isaac but was now being mocked by Isaac for evading his strongest curse.

“It seems we both failed to finish each other off with our strongest abilities right from the start, Al Duard.”

Isaac knew Al Duard hadn’t died from the first strike since he didn’t receive a “quest completed” message. This was a situation he had hoped to avoid.

As expected of a bishop, Al Duard possessed formidable powers.

Of course, a bishop’s combat ability was far inferior to an angel’s. But the prophet of red flesh that Isaac had faced wasn’t a combat-oriented angel to begin with, nor was it at full strength.

In a serious fight, Al Duard in front of him would be a more challenging opponent for Isaac.

“…So you’re Isaac Isacrea, the Holy Grail Knight.”

Isaac’s surprise attack seemed to have left a strong impression. Al Duard cautiously guarded against Isaac, not making any rash moves.

“What was that miracle just now? It certainly didn’t seem like something from the Codex of Light.”

“What do you know about the Codex of Light?”

“I was a priest of the Codex of Light 180 years ago.”

Isaac recalled that the Immortal Order, being a relatively young religion of just 300 years, had quickly risen to divide the world’s major faiths alongside the Codex of Light. It wasn’t surprising, considering they could absorb talents like Al Duard who had reached the end of their lifespan.

“It’s a new miracle I created while you were decaying. It’s called Octopus Legs Stir Fry… no, Gospel…”

“Such nonsense…”

“What do you know! Are you a Holy Grail Knight of the Codex of Light?”