Paladin of the Dead God

“Ciero Priest! What’s going on? Evacuate? But the zombies outside…”

“The vile undead attempted to infiltrate through a secret passage and were annihilated! However, we cannot know when those rejected by the earth might rise again. Now is our chance to escape from Kran Fortress!”

Ciero’s battered appearance lent his words a convincing edge, and the stigmata-like marks on his hands from dealing with Devan added an eerie, mysterious aura. Yet, rushing out of the fortress where zombies still lurked wasn’t an easy choice.

“B-but the zombies are still…”

As Ciero resisted the urge to slap the hesitant soldier, a moment of persuasion arrived without warning—a deafening crash shattered the air as one of Kran Fortress’s towers was severed and collapsed.

The sight of a tower crumbling—something that had never happened in the fortress’s long history of enduring wars—sent people screaming and fleeing in terror. Seizing the moment, Ciero shouted once more.

“Those forsaken by heaven are rising! Run for your lives!”

The soldier who had been talking to Ciero had already bolted, spurred by the chaos. But Ciero knew he couldn’t simply ignore the threat of the zombies.

“Dawn Army! Lead the way and clear a path! The zombies have lost their control and are no longer a threat! Everyone, evacuate now!”

The danger of zombies lay in their numbers and coordinated actions. Without control, they were little more than slow-moving, uncoordinated sacks of bones and flesh. Even the ragtag Dawn Army could handle them. However, as Ciero approached the fortress gates, reality started to sink in.

‘Breaking through a wall of thousands of zombies? Even without control, that’s…’

Isaac had insisted that once they got outside, they would be fine, but could Ciero really trust him enough to lead everyone into a horde of zombies?

‘If nothing happens once we’re out there, I’d be leading all these people straight into a death trap.’

Ciero glanced at his scarred hands and the two children clinging to him, trembling.

“Let’s go.”

Now, it wasn’t just the children in Ciero’s hands—it was the lives of everyone in Kran Fortress. If Isaac couldn’t help, he would have to do it himself.

***

*Shiiiiing! Crash!*

The Reaper’s scythe sliced through the air, tearing apart the fortress wall without mercy. The Kran Fortress, which had stood for centuries through countless wars, was experiencing unprecedented destruction.

Even withstanding catapults, battering rams, and miraculous bombardments, the walls had never crumbled. But faced with the relentless force from within, they could no longer hold. Isaac could only imagine his neck in place of the disintegrating walls.

‘This is insane.’

True to its name as the “Inescapable Death,” the Reaper steadily advanced, relentlessly pursuing Isaac. The Reaper moved slightly slower than Isaac at full sprint, so staying ahead wasn’t difficult. But unlike Isaac, who maneuvered around obstacles, the Reaper only focused on the shortest path to its target, demolishing anything in its way—walls, trees, or people.

Isaac chose to run along the fortress walls, minimizing civilian casualties. Though it was regrettable to see the historic site destroyed, he had already decided to surrender it to the Immortal, so it wasn’t his concern.

‘Have they evacuated yet?’

Isaac watched the massive crowd of people spilling out of the city, contemplating his next move. Only once everyone was out could he consider surrendering the fortress. Right now, he couldn’t even if he wanted to; the fortress wasn’t his to surrender.

That’s why he had pressured Ciero to flee. Once the Dawn Army and the respectable townsfolk were out, Isaac would be the only one in control of the fortress.

‘But who do I surrender it to? If I offer it to the Reaper, will that even work?’

*Shiiiiing! Crash!* Isaac’s brief distraction allowed the Reaper’s scythe to slash right at his feet, cutting off his escape route. Despite lacking reason, the Reaper’s pursuit demonstrated a deadly precision, comparable to a master swordsman with one single-minded goal.

The fortress wall began to crumble.

Isaac lost his footing and fell. The Reaper swung its scythe toward Isaac as he hung suspended in the air. Gritting his teeth, Isaac activated Issac Swordsmanship: The Eight Branches mid-air.

Without solid ground, his swordsmanship was little more than desperate flailing. Yet, miraculously, Isaac’s sword unleashed three slashing auras, colliding with the Reaper’s scythe.

*Scrrrrritch!* A chilling sound echoed as metal scraped against metal. Though the scythe shook off the sword aura, it still managed to strike at Isaac’s head. The sickening crunch of flesh and bone followed, sending a spray of blood into the air.

Debris and rubble poured down on Isaac as he crashed to the ground.

Anyone watching would have predicted death, but the Reaper hovered in confusion, failing to understand why it hadn’t yet claimed its target.

Cold air dispersed the dust, revealing the crumbled stone and dirt. Amidst the debris stood Isaac, still alive.

But his silhouette in the swirling dust appeared subtly different.

“Hah… I was hoping to just keep running and buy some time.”

The scythe of the Reaper had grazed Isaac’s left face, leaving it half-split open. From the gap, countless tendrils slithered out as if monstrous creatures hidden inside him were seizing the chance to crawl out through the wound.

Isaac’s eyes, now closer to crimson than purple, were stained with blood-red tears. His emotions—rage, pain, fear, and ambition—all mingled into an incomprehensible excess even to himself.

It was a sight that would terrify anyone, but the Reaper simply moved toward Isaac mechanically.

Isaac mumbled as if he had expected this.

“Can’t avoid it? If it can’t be avoided… then, fine.”

In that instant, dark hues surged violently from Isaac’s body. They quickly spread, enveloping both the Reaper and Isaac, creating a black pillar that seemed to obscure them from the eyes of the world.

Inside, everything was concealed, unobserved, and unrecorded—a place where even death existed only as a probability.

The Reaper hesitated in the face of Isaac’s intense, newly unleashed aura. Isaac, no longer hiding his power, began to unleash it without restraint.

His silhouette twisted and distorted, releasing a strange and overwhelming force.

“Mr. Tax Collector, would you like to have a chat with my boss?”

***

“What is that?!”

The people gasped in horror at the sight of the towering black pillar that suddenly appeared in one part of Kran Fortress. Ciero was equally stunned, but he knew escaping was the priority.

Besides, the area was where the walls had collapsed just moments ago. It was clear Isaac had done something.

“Don’t worry about it! The Holy Grail Knight is conducting a sacred ritual to cleanse the wicked enemy!”

“A-Are you saying the Holy Grail Knight is using such an ominous darkness?”

“You fool! Darkness is merely the absence of light; shadows are the servants of light, and ashes are but the remnants of a fallen flame! Of course, the Holy Grail Knight of the Codex of Light would command darkness as his servant!”

Ciero’s words flowed easily when it came to making excuses, lies, and inciting the crowd.

While some still found it strange, Ciero’s explanation was convincing enough. After all, this was the knight who had charged in to save them. As long as tendrils didn’t start appearing right in front of them, they had little choice but to believe.

“C-Ciero Priest!”

A soldier from the Dawn Army, visibly flustered, ran over from the front lines. He was one of those who had gone out first to deal with the zombies outside the opened gates.

“What’s going on? If it’s the black pillar, the Holy Grail Knight is—”

“T-The black pillar isn’t the problem! The resistance from the zombies is stronger than expected! Escape might be impossible!”

“What?”

Isaac had said that the zombies would no longer be under control after the destruction of the Death Knights and the zombies underground.

‘Could it be that some of the Liches or Death Knights survived?’

It made sense, Ciero thought. It was unlikely that the enemy would throw all their key forces into the underground passage. Keeping one or two behind for emergencies would be the logical move.

Just as Ciero started to think it was over, a thunderous crash erupted from the gate.

“Ciero!!”

The voice was so loud it didn’t seem human, reverberating through the entire Kran Fortress.

Ciero was shocked and confused. Who would be calling for him? The Immortal Order must have known by now that he was nothing more than a figurehead. So, why would they be holding a grudge?

Then, Lehena Kran, who was standing beside him, started to move forward. Ciero instinctively grabbed him, but he seemed entranced, whispering softly.

“Father.”

Only then did Ciero realize the one who could control the zombies and have a grudge against him.

King Batenna Kran of Kran.

“Ciero, come out! You were welcomed as a guest, but you pointed your blade at me. Now, you will pay for your crime!”

The deafening voice echoed once more, and the zombies outside the gates seized the open opportunity to push forward. Ciero considered closing the gates, but doing so would prevent their escape, as Isaac had instructed.

Gritting his teeth, Ciero stepped forward. This was his responsibility to resolve.

All the debts he had ignored and deferred until now were finally catching up with him, with interest. Just as Isaac was facing his own reckoning, Ciero now realized that taxes, like death, were unavoidable.

Pushing through the Dawn Army soldiers, Ciero positioned himself at the forefront of the zombie horde.

“Stand back!”

As soon as he stood before the zombie wave, Ciero called forth celestial heat and scattered it in all directions. The Dawn Army soldiers, caught off guard by his sudden appearance, stumbled back from the intense heat.

Ciero had never once stood at the front lines before. He had always remained at the rear, giving speeches and showing off small miracles of fire.

But now, he was the unmistakable priest of the Dawn Army.

Roar! A wave of flames swept over the zombies, reducing more than a hundred of them to ashes on the spot. But in no time, even more zombies filled the gap.

“Ciero Priest!”

“I will handle this!”

Though his legs trembled with fear, Ciero shouted at the massive horde of undead.

“King of Kran! Your Majesty Batenna Kran, the jester Ciero has arrived! Weren’t you looking for me?”

Jester Ciero. Ciero knew that discerning, cultured people referred to him as such, mocking his smooth talk and his parlor tricks that captivated the masses.

Perhaps they were right. Or maybe it was the truth, which was why Ciero wasn’t even angry.

The jester’s feast was over. Now it was time to clean up the dirty table.

Thud. Armored from head to toe, Batenna Kran made his appearance.

The betrayed king.

For the Immortal Order, the nature of one’s undead form is determined by when and how they joined, as well as their deeds in life.

A knight becomes a Death Knight, a priest becomes a Lich.

So, what does a king become?

The vast horde of zombies advancing toward Kran Fortress was proof of Batenna Kran’s status.

“I was betrayed, defiled, and humiliated,” Batenna Kran hissed, his rotting breath seething with fury.

“I will make you just like me. You, who forced me to defile my own kingdom with my hands, will be brought low alongside your followers. You will suffer the same fate as them!”