Paladin of the Dead God

Chapter 46:

A bit of time passed before Isaac spoke up.

“So you’re saying you’ll go back if I return the rite of division?”

But if you’ve already left a relic as collateral, shouldn’t you retrieve that as well?

Hesabel seemed perturbed by Isaac’s point.

“Hm? Ah, yes. The relic I left as collateral… It’s not as important as the rite of division… I did lose out significantly, but still…”

Though Hesabel grunted in discomfort, it seemed she couldn’t easily give up the Loracus Coin. Recovering the rite of division was important, but not to the point of suffering a great loss.

Of course, Isaac had no intention of returning the rite of division.

“Fine. It was a pathetic reason, but my curiosity has been satisfied. And here I thought Yukhar had the savvy to involve a Wallachia hunter as well.”

It was doubtful if there was anyone as foolish as Hesabel. Of course, there were likely a few knights who were duped by the surge in Loracus, thinking Yukhar could act boldly in front of Isaac for that reason.

“Come then, try to retrieve it. Your uncle’s skills were pitiful. Let’s see how impressive the niece is.

“You’re not going to return the rite of division? Even though you swore on the Codex of Light?”

“The Codex of Light says not to return it.”

That was a lie. Hesabel, being a paladin, seemed to experience cognitive dissonance realizing that Isaac, who had sworn an oath to God, would break it so readily.

Such a thing was unthinkable in this era, especially for paladins and priests, as they would face immediate repercussions. But for Isaac, who was not a Codex of Light paladin, it was irrelevant.

Isaac immediately charged at Hesabel.

Hesabel, hissing, raised her spear. The tip of her spear sharply aimed at Isaac, but what appeared in front of her was the division ritual.

“Damn you!”

She screamed, barely twisting the tip of her spear away.

“That’s not a weapon, you madman!”

“I know.”

The rite of division was a ceremonial sword, sharp enough to cut bone but not sturdy, used for sacrifices or rituals. Hesabel, aware of this, feared her spear might damage or break the delicate blade of the division ritual.

In essence, Isaac was swinging around something equivalent to a national treasure of Wallachia.

“Enough!”

Struggling not to clash with the enemy’s weapon while attacking, Hesabel was at a significant disadvantage. She gritted her teeth and transformed her body into a red mist, attempting to attack Isaac from behind.

However, at that moment, Isaac’s body also transformed into red mist. The two red mists violently mixed together.

Crack, thud!

A sound like bones breaking followed as the two were violently thrown apart. Hesabel lay on the floor of the underground waterway, gasping.

‘What the?!’

Transforming into mist was common for her, but mixing with another mist was unprecedented. The mists, upon merging, were expelled by a powerful force as if something that should not happen had occurred.

More shockingly, Isaac had used the ‘Red Prayer,’ a miracle of the Red Chalice.

‘How could he use the Red Prayer?’

At that moment, Hesabel recalled Isaac casually breaking the oath he made on the Codex of Light and mentioning the prophet of the red flesh at the site of Heinkel’s death. That ominous thought quickly overwhelmed her.

‘Could it be? For real?’

“This doesn’t feel right.”

Isaac, already standing, looked down at Hesabel.

“I wanted to try a few experiments, but this should be enough.”

Violet eyes gleamed menacingly in the darkness, surrounded by eerie tendrils.

Certainly not the appearance of a Codex of Light paladin

“What is… this…”

“Let’s end the conversation here.”

Hesabel reflexively hurled her spear at Isaac. Isaac did not move. Instead, something that sprung from his left arm quickly wrapped around Hesabel’s spear. The thing, as thick as a forearm, snapped the spear as if it were a toothpick and even crunched the fragments.

Hesabel dumbly watched the tentacle that had shattered her spear, harder than steel.

In the meantime, the tentacle, like a snake, crawled up Hesabel’s body and pressed its end in front of her eyes.

Accustomed to darkness, Hesabel could see teeth, thorns, and eyes wriggling between the tentacles.

With a scream, she immediately fled the spot.

***

Her breath was short. Hesabel was lost in the maze-like underground waterways of Seor.

“Where is this? Where on earth is the exit?”

The structure of the waterways was complex and dark. The waterways seemed to have been built a long time ago, with layers of stones of different styles and materials piled up. Even as a vampire familiar with darkness, this ancient darkness made her feel afraid.

No, what truly frightened her was the unidentified entity chasing her through the darkness.

“Pant, pant…”

When her breath became short and her movements slowed, Hesabel felt a hot breath and sticky warmth on her back. She screamed and started running again.

She had already given up on escaping by transforming into a red mist. It was a limited ability, and she had exhausted its uses. Moreover, the opponent could transform into red mist too, making it nonsensical to try and escape that way.

‘What exactly are you, uncle? What have you fought against?!’

Fear consumed her mind. The terror was so intense that she thought it might be better to fight and die. At least if she were eaten, she might find some peace.

But the reason she couldn’t stop was that the identity of that thing was unknown.

Disciples of the Red Chalice Club are invited to the banquet of the Red Chalice upon death. There, enjoying beautiful things, gourmet food, and pleasures was the heaven of the Red Chalice. But now, she was at risk of becoming the menu at that banquet, not a guest.

‘Is it okay to die? Is it really okay to be eaten by that thing?’

Some kinds of death offer a more terrible fate than ordinary death, robbing the disciples of their promised afterlife. There was a rumor that being killed by Barbarian meant neither heaven nor hell, but generally, it happened when cursed by a god or killed by an entity one should never meet.

Hesabel worried that Isaac might be such an entity.

Eventually, when she could hardly take another step due to shortness of breath, there were only two choices left.

To fight bravely, risking her life to enter the banquet of the Red Chalice honorably.

“Please save me! Please, just spare my life!”

Or to grovel pathetically for her life.

Hesabel chose the latter.

With the identity of Isaac unknown, she couldn’t gamble. As the heir to a ducal family, she had the duty to pursue the lost relic and uphold her family’s honor. Above all, she couldn’t afford to die just anywhere.

She rather hoped Isaac was indeed the prophet of the red flesh.

If Isaac was truly the prophet of the red flesh or his representative, perhaps she could be forgiven for interfering with his plans.

If not, she might wander some horrendous place neither heaven nor hell.

Hesabel waited for Isaac’s mercy, her head buried in the mire. Though no sound was heard, the presence of Isaac beyond the darkness was palpable. The air in the hot underground waterway carried the stench of stale blood.

Then, Hesabel felt something probing at her nape.

Chills ran down her body. She knew without looking that it was the tentacle that had devoured her spear. If it bit into her neck and head as it had with the spear, she would die without even screaming.

“Please save me…”

Yet, all Hesabel could do was beg in a mosquito-like voice.

She felt a gaze upon her for a moment before a sharp pain at her nape. She tightly shut her eyes.

After a while, Hesabel slowly opened her eyes.

She thought she might be dead, but there was no banquet, no hell-like scene. She was still face-down in the damp underground waterway. The air around her was no longer hot, and the foul smell had vanished, but it took almost ten minutes before she could lift her head.

Realizing there was nothing around her, Hesabel immediately got up and started running.

But fearing her footsteps were too loud, she began to walk quietly again. Half crying, half laughing, Hesabel vowed to herself.

‘I must never get close to that man again. Never…’

***

‘Hmm, maybe I should have just eaten her.’

Isaac felt an odd sense of hunger as he licked his lips. Initially, he had no intention of sparing Hesabel, who lay prostrate in the mud. It had been a while since he had eaten, and he rarely spared those who sought his life.

However, the reason he spared Hesabel was simple.

Having already consumed Heinkel Gullmar, a superior entity, he didn’t see any additional abilities to gain from her. Moreover, her earnest pleas for forgiveness somehow made him lose any desire to kill her.

‘Knowing their true intentions breeds unnecessary sympathy.’

Had he not been able to see into Hesabel’s heart with the Eye of Chaos, he would have simply devoured her to prevent future trouble. However, what he saw within Hesabel through the Eye of Chaos was nothing but fear of Isaac and a promise to never confront him again. It seemed unlikely that her resolve would change easily.

Isaac implanted a ‘Parasite from Beyond’ in her nape. If Hesabel were to betray or divulge information about Isaac, her brain would explode. Otherwise, she would suffer from headaches for a while.

‘A small price to pay for sparing her life.’

Isaac continued through the underground waterways.

He had let Hesabel go with the parasite because he thought she might lead him to Yukhar.

He had hoped that the panicked Hesabel might stumble upon Yukhar’s location, but it ended with her just wandering aimlessly until this point.

Though disappointed, the venture was not without its gains.

Wandering around, he stumbled upon the aura of a sanctuary.

[The Nameless Chaos watches over you.]

“Don’t rush me.”

As Isaac followed the underground waterway, he felt his heart pounding more with each step, a symptom of nearing a sanctuary. It wasn’t Isaac’s heart that pulsed, but the tentacles, the beating transmitted from the watchful eyes of the Nameless Chaos from beyond.

Around the corner of the waterway, a soft yellow light leaked out. Approaching the flickering light, he finally entered a large space filled with the sight he had anticipated.

This was the sanctuary of the Golden Idol.

The room was filled corner to corner with brilliant gold and silver treasures and dried Loracus petals. In the center, surrounded by odd ceremonial patterns and decorations, sat Yukhar, clutching a shepherd figurine tightly to his chest as if it would crumble

Isaac, seeing this, couldn’t help but comment sarcastically.

“Were you sad that the Golden Idol guild lacked a proper order? Or did you just want to imitate other orders?”

Yukhar’s mouth dropped open as he stared at Isaac.

[This pitiful human claims he can become the true god of the non-existent Golden Idol, replacing it.]

It wasn’t Yukhar’s voice.

Isaac quickly recognized who the speaker might be.

“Are you also an ancient god?”