Paladin of the Dead God

Chapter 102:

The Living Armors, merely commanded to guard and maintain this place, were infused with an alien emotion: fear. Isaac, with a flash in his eyes, ruthlessly tore through the armors. The tentacles, not leaving even a pinch of soul behind as they devoured, shocked the Living Armors spiritually.

The dozen or so Living Armors that had risen were quickly dispelled, their spirits ejected and vanishing into the cave’s exterior.

‘It’s fortunate their bond was weak.’

Isaac had intentionally infused his actions with divine power to amplify the effect, but the initial creation of these Living Armors hadn’t been particularly meticulous. However, the fact that the effect of the Dark Eucharist alone was this significant suggested that lower-ranked soldiers wouldn’t need much attention.

‘Of course, there’s the downside that I have to bring out the tentacles and kill them off spectacularly…’

Isaac turned his head to look at Eidan, who had witnessed the ‘Dark Eucharist’ effect. Part of the reason he had shown this ‘show’ was because of Eidan.

To manipulate him at will, just like the ghosts who couldn’t flee and were frozen in fear.

As expected, Eidan was sitting on the ground, trembling.

However, the emotion reflected in his eyes was not fear but something else.

Unexpected words flowed from his mouth.

“Dreamer…”

“What? What are you talking about?”

Isaac frowned, looking at Eidan.

Only then did Eidan seem to snap back to reality, hastily standing up. Yet, in his eyes, fear was replaced by admiration and awe, not what Isaac had anticipated.

Then, Isaac remembered another effect of the Dark Eucharist.

‘Those who witness the sacrament fall into fear or chaos, but your followers enter a state of religious ecstasy… was it?’

Ironically, Eidan seemed to be ‘following’ Isaac. Isaac briefly wondered when exactly Eidan had started following him.

“What… what was that just now?”

Eidan couldn’t explicitly say what ‘that’ was, but Isaac understood. He also realized he had completely misjudged the situation.

Eidan hadn’t been a follower before. It was the Dark Eucharist that made him one.

Specifically, the tentacles.

The Salt Council, a major religion with its peculiarities, had not a few followers who revered tentacles. Some of the Salt Council’s angels took the form of marine life… precisely, cephalopods.

And Isaac’s tentacles, at a glance, didn’t look much different from octopus arms. Though they appeared much more terrifying.

Realizing what Eidan was thinking, Isaac immediately adopted an ambiguous stance.

“It’s a miracle of the god I serve.”

“So you weren’t a paladin of the Codex of Light!”

“I can’t tell you the details.”

Isaac suppressed Eidan with authority.

The overwhelming charisma of a Nephilim silenced Eidan, lending credibility to every word. Already influenced by the Dark Eucharist, Eidan began to fervently rationalize Isaac’s identity.

“Yes… that’s why you said you could make any vessel into a Salt Council relic. You’ve been hiding within the Codex of Light to conceal yourself from them…”

Though Eidan seemed to be earnestly piecing things together, Isaac had no intention of explaining everything.

Some thought of him as a avenger, others as an angel, some as a devout grail knight, and still, others saw him as a revolutionary poised to end corrupt orders.

Now, someone mistook him for a deity, but Isaac had no interest in fitting himself to anyone’s perception.

If their misconceptions made them easier to manipulate, that was enough. He had no desire to sacrifice himself to fulfill their illusions.

‘Why should I take responsibility for their misunderstandings? It’s their fault for being deceived.’

***

Isaac checked the armaments hidden in the mine. Their condition was surprisingly pristine.

It was unclear if the Living Armors had diligently maintained them or if it was due to the cave’s structure. The design seemed to keep humidity low and oxygen slightly scarce, and the chill emitted by the undead made it an optimal weapons storage.

‘These aren’t weapons made by a blacksmith.’

He had hoped but, of course, the armaments weren’t crafted by blacksmiths. They preferred to delicately handcraft each weapon, not mass-produce military supplies.

‘They aren’t from the Immortal Order or the Red Chalice, either.’

Producing such quality armaments in large quantities would require state or church intervention. However, the style of the armaments didn’t match the Codex of Light, nor did it resemble those of the Immortal Order or the Red Chalice. The Salt Council lacked skilled blacksmiths.

‘Could it be the work of the Olkan discipline?’

It could indeed be the Eastern Orc nomads. Another religion was involved, but Isaac considered it a relief. He couldn’t just melt down all these weapons; they had to be used, and if they were weapons from the Immortal Order or the Red Chalice, involved in many disputes with the Gerthonia Empire, they would be immediately recognized.

The Olkan discipline, being too distant from the White Empire, was likely to be considered merely an exotic weapon.

While inspecting the armaments, Eidan kept stealing glances at Isaac, seemingly bursting with questions about what he had witnessed, including whether it was real.

‘It’s understandable, really.’

The followers of the Salt Council were desperate to find traces of their god buried under the salt deserts. Their ultimate goal was also to shatter the salt deserts and declare the resurrection of their god. In the midst of this, if someone who held a clue appeared, it was natural that they would be eager to speak with Isaac.

But Isaac was more curious about what he could answer than what Eidan was curious about.

Inspecting the inside of the armors from which the Living Armor had escaped, Isaac discovered a magical catalyst. Curious about its composition, he rubbed it with his finger.

Instantly, whether from the remnants of a ghost or the power of the catalyst, a tingling sensation brushed through his body. It was too faint to harm Isaac, but a fleeting afterimage flashed before his eyes.

[The Nameless Chaos watches over you.]

“Damn it…”

Isaac barely managed to keep from staggering.

The afterimage imprinted on his cornea was none other than a man dressed in yellow.

The same man who had constantly appeared in Isaac’s nightmares and gestured towards him when the afterlife overflowed.

Although the afterimage vanished quickly, Isaac couldn’t easily shake off the shock. At the same time, he wondered what the hell this was that tormented him so.

Suddenly, Isaac remembered something Kalsen Miller had said in a dream or delusion, blurring the lines between reality and fantasy.

‘If you’re curious about your current situation, ask the salt merchant.’

It was clear that referred to Eidan. The nickname pinpointed the characteristics of a follower of the Salt Council precisely.

‘I was going to ask him once I had properly tamed him, anyway.’

“Are you alright, Lord Isaac?”

Seeing Isaac lost in thought, Eidan approached cautiously. He would be disappointed to learn that what he regarded as sacred was actually a tentacled monster, but there was no need to disappoint him prematurely. Pressing his throbbing temples, Isaac spoke.

“It seems like some aftereffects from fighting that bishop of the Immortal Order.”

“The bishop of the Immortal Order… Ah, I saw the remnants. You had opened the door to Urbansus. It’s natural to suffer aftereffects from being involved in such an incident, even temporarily.”

Urbansus.

The precise term for the afterlife.

Ancient language, or the language of the gods, but from the perspective of angels or divine beasts, it’s not precisely the afterlife since it’s the world they inhabit.

Isaac didn’t find it strange that Eidan knew these things.

Most followers of the Salt Council are well-versed in theology. They have the knowledge to distinguish what is a relic. Among them, certain professionals, the ‘archaeologists’ who wander in search of the relics and legacies of the Salt Council, were exceptionally knowledgeable in theology.

Eidan Bearverk was one of those archaeologists.

***

“I’ve heard that people who wield strong divine power often connect with the afterlife. That’s why some get corrupted by strange powers or fall into decay. Please be careful, Lord Isaac.”

Isaac felt intrigued by Eidan’s words.

When he had only known this world as a game, Isaac had no interest in the afterlife.

He knew that the afterlife was important in all religions, but frankly, as a player who could simply start over upon death, it was a matter of indifference.

But in ‘reality,’ it was different.

Some devoutly sought monastic life or threw their lives into battlefields to reach heaven, while others became societal outcasts, the Barbarians, out of fear of hell. Conversely, there were those who betrayed their families and lords to devote themselves to heretical faiths, aspiring to become angels.

The notion that life is short and the afterlife is eternal made such actions understandable. However, Isaac couldn’t grasp how ‘that’ afterlife could cross into reality, influencing and corrupting people.

It seemed absurd, yet perhaps it was happening to Isaac as well.

“Strong divine power connects with the afterlife?”

“Yes. Divine power is a force that descends from Urbansus. The more one accepts this power, the more the boundary between worlds blurs. I’ve heard that’s why angels primarily dwell in the afterlife.”

Isaac was intrigued.

The recent events surrounding him didn’t seem unrelated.

As expected, the Salt Council’s archaeologists knew a lot.

“Can you explain more about that?”

After pondering for a moment, Eidan began with a comparison.

“Are you a begotten son?”

“What?”

“Ah, um. It means being born alone. A being born without borrowing from any ancestors, lineage, or connections. Like a figure from myths. Such beings don’t really exist, of course.”

Eidan cleared his throat and continued.

“Do you believe that everything you say and do is entirely your own will? It’s not. It’s Urbansus commanding you. It’s the same for all people.”

“I don’t recall experiencing any majestic light commanding me to eat or whispering to step with my right foot followed by my left when I walk.”

“But you know how to use a spoon and how to walk. Every living thing is influenced by the past. Precisely, by those who have died. The ways you eat, sleep, and walk are all methods created by the deceased.”

What Isaac initially thought of was the collective unconscious or genetic memory imprinted in DNA. But there was no need to bring up such grand concepts.

Ordinary culture, morals, etiquette, and norms all subtly govern human subconsciousness.

“So, all those are summed up as Urbansus?”

“Yes. So, it’s more accurate to call it Urbansus rather than the afterlife. Calling it the afterlife seems to imply it’s just the world the dead go to.”

“Then, the stronger the miracles I possess, the thinner my free will becomes, and the will of the afterlife replaces mine?”

“That could be said. Some might call it true faith, enlightenment, sainthood, or even… being an angel.”

Having faith itself implies ‘how one should act,’ a kind of pressure.

A newcomer to faith retains much of their essence. Faith doesn’t exert much pressure on them.

But as one gains more power and higher status over time, the pressure applied can only intensify.

The individual might think of it as ‘deepening faith.’ However, Eidan explained it as a phenomenon where the consciousness of the afterlife and the individual merge.

Isaac thought over Eidan’s words before responding.

“But isn’t that something that happens in general groups, not just among the faithful?”

When an individual joins a group, it’s common to be influenced by that group. There’s no need to involve grand concepts like the afterlife, gods, or angels.

Eidan seemed a bit perplexed but then nodded.

“Ah, um. That could be seen that way. Perhaps all of this is metaphorical.”

In the end, he was just a scholar who studied through records and books. There was no way to confirm what Urbansus or gods really were.

However, the nightmares Isaac had been frequently experiencing could be fully understood through Eidan’s explanation. They weren’t just nightmares but actual existences in some part of Urbansus, the afterlife.

The malice and obsession of Urbansus were precisely targeting Isaac.

Then Eidan added,

“By the way, the traces left by Al Duard were indeed strange.”

“Strange? How so?”

“Usually, when the door to Urbansus is opened, the afterlife related to the opener appears. Since Al Duard was from the Immortal Order, one would expect environments similar to the Black Empire to appear. Desolate lands with ghosts and creatures contaminated by frost, something like that. But…”

Initially, such phenomena did appear. Haunting ghosts and frost-killed plants. However, the world that began to reveal itself shortly after was entirely different.

A world where everything melted and twisted.

“Thanks to your powers, the ‘normalized’ world became intact, but not the land underneath. It had nothing to do with the afterlife of the Immortal Order.”

“How was it different?”

“Beneath the dead grass was filled with white sand.”

Upon hearing this, a term immediately came to Isaac’s mind.

The Nameless Chaos that had once erased a third of humanity in an infamous event.

The White Death Plague.