Paladin of the Dead God

Ciero gritted his teeth.

He couldn’t bring himself to say, “It wasn’t me, it was that scum Devan who did it. I knew nothing.” Not because of some noble thought that the commander bears the sins of his subordinates, but simply because Devan was already buried down in the underground waterway. Besides, it was likely that his excuse would fall on deaf ears.

Thud, thud. Batenna Kran, now undead, had grown significantly larger than in life, his body grotesquely swollen. The noise of his footsteps grew louder with every step, and the menacing spiked mace he wielded closed in, ready to smash Ciero’s skull.

“W-Wait.”

Instead of summoning a grand miracle to combat the undead monster, Ciero opened his mouth to speak. But Batenna only sped up, charging faster. Ciero knew that being bludgeoned to death by that mace might be one way to atone for his sins.

But he couldn’t let that happen.

“I-I have your children with me!”

Just as the mace was about to crush his skull, Ciero’s desperate shout made Batenna pause. His rotting eyes, glaring through his helmet, bore into Ciero with a fiery intensity.

“You bastard… Are you using my children to threaten me?”

The watching Dawn Army soldiers were horrified by Ciero’s words. Even after all their past atrocities, none of them had ever considered something as vile as killing a father, stealing his wealth, and then, when he returned as an undead, using his children to threaten him.

Ciero realized belatedly that his words had given the wrong impression and frantically waved his hands.

“No, no! Your children are still alive! They’re inside the fortress!”

“What? Then…”

“I’ve committed crimes worthy of death, and I’ll pay for them if I must! But the inside of Kran Fortress is in chaos! Do you see that black pillar over there?”

Ciero pointed to the dark pillar visible even from outside the fortress. Batenna Kran, already disturbed by the ominous sight, listened more intently to Ciero’s words.

“A creature summoned by the Immortal Order is wreaking havoc. The Holy Grail Knight is fighting it off, but he’s not confident it can be contained. If that creature destroys the fortress walls, will your children be safe? Help us get them out first.”

“…I’ll smash your skull first, then consider it.”

Batenna glared at Ciero with terrifying eyes, and just as Ciero bit his lip again, one of the Dawn Army soldiers stepped in front of him.

Batenna’s face twisted with anger.

“What are you doing? How dare you stand in my way!”

“P-Please don’t harm Priest Ciero,” the young soldier stammered, trembling as he spoke.

“If Priest Ciero were truly evil, he would have brought your children here to force you to clear the path. Or he could have used the flames that just swept away the zombies to fight you. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it, which is why he’s trying to talk to you.”

“You’re telling me Priest Ciero is a good man?” Batenna burst into a deranged laugh, the sound dark and pitiful.

“I have fourteen stab wounds on my back, one on my neck, and seven on my legs from your daggers! Do you judge morality by how many times a guest can stab their host?”

The young soldier fell silent, unable to respond. Yet, one by one, other soldiers timidly stepped forward to stand beside him.

Another soldier spoke up.

“There must be some misunderstanding. Those who committed atrocities inside the fortress have returned the stolen goods and been punished. Some have even been executed. So…”

Batenna Kran stared at the young soldiers before letting out another low, mocking chuckle.

“Now that I think about it, why am I even talking to you? You’re all part of the Dawn Army, the same ones who killed me. It’s criminals defending criminals. Fine, then—die with your precious Priest Ciero.”

As Batenna Kran raised his mace high once again, Ciero summoned flames to his hands.

He felt guilty, but on second thought, it wasn’t worth dying for sins he hadn’t directly committed.

Thunk! But before Ciero could use his flames, a crimson feathered arrow shot through the air and pierced Batenna Kran’s hand. The mace fell with a deafening crash, and a massive, mottled shadow loomed overhead.

“It’s a dragon!”

One of the Dawn Army soldiers cried out in terror.

Ciero recognized the dragon immediately. A moment later, the earth-shaking roar of trumpets filled the air.

From the distant rear, knights tore through the ranks of the zombie horde, cleaving them apart. Their banners, fluttering above their heads, were among the most talked-about in recent times.

They were the banners of the Kingdom of Elil and the forces of Issacrea.

***

Thud-thud-thud!

The Elil knights’ horses pounded the wasteland like drums, charging so fiercely that even those far away could feel the ground tremble.

A bit behind the frontline, Edelred, guarded by the Knights of Aldeon, spotted the people gathered outside Kran Fortress. He quietly lowered his visor and grasped the royal sword, Kaldbruch, in his hand.

“Rescue the Ciero Dawn Army.”

His voice was soft, barely audible amidst the thunder of hooves, but Commander Delfric Hilde, who accompanied him, amplified the king’s command with a powerful shout.

“Rescue the Ciero Dawn Army!”

“Advance! Reach the Ciero Dawn Army at once! Push forward immediately!”

The commander’s order was repeated by the knights, each putting their unique spin on it, and by the time it reached Reyna Hilde, it had morphed into, “Kill everything but the living ones!” Her subordinates found the command somewhat contradictory, but it wasn’t hard to understand—zombies surrounded them on all sides.

Edelred could feel the power of Kaldbruch coursing through him, seeping into his veins as the angelic force surged within. His breath carried the scent of the forest, and his eyes burned with the radiant heat of the sun.

Without hesitation, Edelred spurred his horse forward.

Crash! The power flowing through Kaldbruch seemed to extend to his mount, crushing zombies underfoot as if they were nothing more than twigs. To Edelred, cutting through the horde felt no different from slicing through air.

Despite Edelred’s sudden rush, his escorting knights quickly adjusted, moving in to cover him and maintain formation.

With Edelred at the spearhead, the Elil forces sliced through the zombie horde like scissors tearing through paper. King Kran, caught off guard by the rear attack, had no time to prepare.

Edelred pushed forward, not with a battle cry, but with the memory of Isaac’s request that had brought him here.

“Master, I’ve arrived.”

The Kran Fortress was not originally part of the planned route for the Elil Kingdom’s advance. They had not yet heard of the impending destruction of the Ciero Dawn Army.

However, a few days earlier, Hesabel had arrived riding Nel and delivered Isaac’s message. Isaac had requested that they come to Kran Fortress and, curiously, asked them not to intervene until the people inside the fortress emerged on their own.

Edelred found the request strange, but it was from his mentor, so he didn’t hesitate and changed his advance route.

Within a day of arriving near Kran Fortress, a black pillar had risen, and the fortress soldiers were voluntarily opening the gates and rushing out—a turn of events that confirmed to Edelred that this was the moment Isaac had spoken of.

“Repel the unholy ones!”

At the king’s command, the knights charged forward with fierce shouts. The advanced swordsmanship of the knights grew stronger when used en masse. As Elil’s distinctive battle fervor and miracles spread across the battlefield, the Immortal Order was reminded of Elil’s formidable might for the first time in a long while.

Regrettably, the only ones experiencing this power were the zombies, mere fledglings in the ranks of the undead, and those outside Kran.

“These damn elf-loving kingdom dogs!”

Batenna Kran shifted his focus from Ciero to Edelred. Ciero was stunned by the sudden change in events but realized that this was the “it will work out somehow” moment that Isaac had foretold.

“Stop those war-crazed invaders!”

Batenna Kran turned his attention from Ciero to the Elil Kingdom’s army. Perhaps it was easier for him to deal with the straightforward choice of fending off “foreign invaders” than to confront the more complex and unsettling matter of Ciero. Still, he forced himself to deny this truth.

‘I’ll crush the Elil Kingdom forces first, then Ciero.’

But deep down, Batenna knew.

His pitiful zombie horde wouldn’t be able to topple even a single one of Elil’s elite knights. Thus, without hesitation, he hefted his mace and charged.

At the forefront, Edelred noticed the hulking, heavily armored figure charging toward him. Recognizing the opulent armor that a king would wear, Edelred adjusted his posture and came to a halt. As Edelred suddenly stopped, Batenna also came to a stop and stared at him.

Edelred lifted his visor and spoke first.

“I am Edelred Aldeon, son of Alfred, lord of knights, bearer of Kaldbruch, and king of Elil. And you are?”

Introducing oneself on the battlefield was a customary practice among those of noble birth. This tradition was clearly defined in Elil’s code of conduct.

Batenna Kran found it odd but couldn’t help but smirk.

“I am Batenna Kran, ruler of Kran Fortress, master of the Rehe Plains, and king of Kran. It’s an honor to meet the king of Elil.”

“The honor is mine as well.”

Edelred dismounted to match his opponent’s status. If Isaac had seen this, he would have sighed, but Edelred had no way of knowing that. Despite his disdain for chivalry, Edelred had grown up observing and practicing these formalities, so he found nothing strange about them.

To Batenna Kran, though, all of this felt strangely refreshing.

Having been betrayed, disgraced, and meeting a miserable end, Batenna felt as if Edelred’s actions were rewriting his final moments into something noble.

No longer was Batenna Kran the betrayed and backstabbed king meeting his end. Now, he was a valiant defender of his fortress, dying gloriously on the battlefield.

Locking eyes with Edelred, Batenna charged at him with a hearty laugh.

Edelred couldn’t simply cut down such a worthy adversary. With all due respect, he unleashed the most powerful strike he could muster.

Combining the swordsmanship of Aldeon, known for cleaving and shattering anything in its path, with the ferocious predatory power of Isaac’s swordsmanship, the clash between sword and mace resounded with a deafening roar.

But for Batenna, it didn’t feel like a clash of weapons. Instead, it felt as though he’d been thrown into a meat grinder.

Batenna couldn’t even withstand Edelred’s first strike. His vision tilted slowly. In his dizzying view, he caught sight of the people standing at the gate: Rehena Kran and Helga Kran, held in the arms of the soldiers.

Ironically, Batenna found himself left with no choice but to trust Ciero.

He had to hope that Ciero would protect his children from the ominous force lurking within the black pillar beyond the fortress.

***

The Reaper felt no pain. But it was not without sensation.

The moment Isaac’s “Hidden Rite” activated, the Reaper was overwhelmed by an unfamiliar feeling. Though normally invisible, its body draped over Urvansus sensed the anomaly, signaling that this was a miracle—a powerful one at that.

It felt as if each strand of darkness was licking its form, playfully nibbling and sniffing, like a massive predator rolling its prey around in its mouth.

Fortunately, the Reaper didn’t feel fear. But that didn’t mean it was devoid of emotions.

Fear and anger are neural responses designed to navigate dire situations—fear warns one to flee, while anger triggers adrenaline, preparing one for battle. The Reaper simultaneously felt both conflicting emotions.

To resolve this contradiction, the Reaper concluded that it must eliminate Isaac.

Of course, no matter what “thoughts” it might have, the Reaper’s conclusion would always be the same.

Swoosh, thud!

The Reaper’s attacks became more relentless, bearing down on Isaac with even greater fury.

The Reaper’s scythe brutally tore through the space shrouded in the colors of the beyond. However, Isaac, now moving with far greater speed and agility than before, evaded the Reaper’s attacks effortlessly.

Every inch of ground, every breath of air, every fleeting moment seemed to aid Isaac.

His form, distorted beyond recognition, only added to his advantage. Even when slashed, only a few tendrils were cut.

The Reaper, growing increasingly agitated, swung at Isaac with frantic aggression.

Crack! Kaldwin clashed with the Reaper’s scythe, roaring like a beast. But Isaac understood fully that this shapeless entity could neither be cut down nor killed.

There was only one plausible attempt he could make.

To entrust it to another being of Urbansus.

“Then let’s try this again.”

Isaac planted Kaldwin into the ground and twisted his fingers into an intricate shape. With tendrils sprouting from every knuckle, it was impossible to tell how many fingers he had. Isaac used the tendrils to trace and define the Reaper’s position.

It wasn’t a grand ritual. Just setting coordinates and direction.

“…This is round two. Eat him up.”

Isaac summoned the “Claws of the Abyss” once more.

A dreadful wail erupted from within the shrouded rite’s veil.