Paladin of the Dead God

Chapter 121:

Chapter 121. Urbansus (1)

“Was it because of this… that he told me to use the sword?”

The Luadin Key.

The Drowned King had been obsessively insisting that Isaac use the sword. Suddenly, Isaac realized that the sword he was holding was named ‘The Luadin Key.’

The sword is a key that opens both the inside and outside.

The Drowned King had intended to send Isaac beyond the door.

Creeeak.

The wound where The Luadin Key was inserted began to widen significantly. Soon, crimson blood started pouring out like a waterfall. Considering that The Luadin Key was essentially cooking the Drowned King’s body in real-time, this blood could not be his.

It was overflowing from somewhere beyond.

“Could it be?”

Isaac recalled that the Drowned King had never once performed the Moonwell Ritual in a thousand years, even though it was the only way to summon the buried god.

Of course, entering the afterlife without the god’s permission was akin to trespassing. Therefore, the Drowned King needed a safe way to send the traveler through.

That was to make a door using his own body as a sacrifice.

That’s why it was something that could only be done once, and why he had hesitated for a thousand years.

“But why now of all times?”

[Isaac. I apologize for testing you.]

The wound left by The Luadin Key tore the Drowned King’s body even longer and wider. However, the Drowned King whispered in a voice as weak as fading bubbles.

[But before I lay you before my god… I needed the courage to believe that you were not just a plaything of chaos.]

“Courage? Damn courage…”

Isaac wanted to retort, but the unidentified pressure pouring from the wound made it hard even to open his mouth.

[You said that this world has come this far, adding a thousand years to tens of thousands of years.]

Isaac remembered his own words.

The Drowned King had clearly remembered those words, which he thought had been ignored.

No, it went beyond that; it had become the reason to send Isaac beyond the door.

[Then I believe that you, like me, would wish for the perpetuity of this world.]

The Drowned King murmured in a voice that was indistinguishable between sobbing and pleading.

It wasn’t a plea for salvation or protection from the Salt Council, but rather an odd statement. Before Isaac could even ask what it meant, the blood pouring from the wound became a massive waterfall, engulfing him.

The sea turned a purplish wine color with the blood. The surrounding merfolk sang a strange hymn at the sight.

The heat generated by The Luadin Key evaporated the seawater, and salt crystals formed all over Isaac’s body.

The wound had widened so much that it completely split the Drowned King’s body in half.

And beyond that wound was a landscape even more vast.

***

Splash.

Isaac opened his eyes in a stark white landscape.

The sea, which had been dyed wine-colored by the gushing blood, the storm that seemed to bring down the sky, and the rough waves were nowhere to be seen.

Only a blindingly white horizon stretched out far into the distance.

Beyond the horizon, a pyramid of such immense size that it was difficult to gauge appeared. Atop the unrealistically large pyramid shone a sun that seemed to hang at its peak.

The shape of the pyramid was peculiar. There were red rivers flowing in some places, and broken fragments floating in others. Fierce flames burst forth from the cracks.

“Is this… the heaven of the Salt Council?”

Isaac felt as if he had entered a vast salt pan, seeing that his limbs were intact, and he still had his armor and sword. It was a ritual carefully performed by an angel sacrificing its own body. It couldn’t have failed.

Isaac had become one of the very few humans in history to reach the afterlife with a living body.

Beneath the shallow water pooled on the ground were white grains of salt covering the floor. Isaac felt as if he had entered a giant salt flat.

Even if the religion’s name was the Salt Council, there was no need for heaven to be a salt flat… Isaac thought, when he sensed someone’s presence above him.

Swoosh.

Isaac spotted a small boat approaching from a little above his height. A man with a somewhat thin and irritable appearance, who seemed to be the boatman, was looking down at Isaac.

There was a large wound on his forehead, which looked quite vicious.

Without saying much, he naturally steered the boat downward and brought it closer.

“Get on.”

“Do you even know who I am?”

The boatman glared at Isaac with a blank expression.

“Isaac Issacrea.”

It would be a lie to say that the famous ‘boat to the underworld’ didn’t come to mind. But Isaac had already arrived in that very underworld. Moreover, the chances were very high that this boatman was an angel.

One way or another, he couldn’t fall into a more dangerous situation than he was already in.

“It’s safer inside the boat than out there, so get on. We don’t have time to waste.”

With those words, Isaac obediently climbed aboard.

In the afterlife, there are gods, angels, and perhaps even ghosts – none of which are particularly welcome. Isaac, who was not a follower of the Salt Council, did not want to encounter them unnecessarily.

Perhaps he would soon meet the angels of the Salt Council.

‘Come to think of it, being a Nephilim is one thing, but it would be troublesome if they found out I’m a nameless offspring of chaos.’

If discovered, he would certainly not be welcomed. But now that he was already on the boat, Isaac had no choice but to leave his fate to luck and quick thinking.

As the boatman pushed off the ground with a long oar, the boat lifted into the air as if gravity didn’t exist. Isaac felt strange, but from this higher vantage point, he could see the salt flat.

There was nothing but a vast salt desert around them.

“Why is it dangerous here when there’s nothing around?”

“Don’t you know? Have you forgotten what your prophet did here?”

Isaac looked at the boatman with a puzzled expression, and the boatman frowned.

“If you stay there for half a day, you’ll be drained of moisture and turn into a dry salt pillar. If you want that, you can get off now.”

Of course, Isaac had no desire for that. But something about the boatman’s words triggered a familiar memory.

‘Is he talking about how Luadin turned the sea into a salt desert?’

Thinking about it, it was more rational to call this place a salt desert rather than a salt flat. But Luadin turning it into a salt desert was something that happened in reality.

Wasn’t he supposed to be in the afterlife?

While Isaac was lost in thought, the boat moved swiftly. There was no background to give a sense of speed, but it was incredibly fast.

“We’re almost there. Get ready to disembark.”

Isaac suddenly looked down. There was a city that seemed out of place where the salt desert met the real desert. It was a massive port.

It was a huge port that could accommodate hundreds of ships, but in front of it was nothing but a white salt desert. Isaac wondered why there was a port in the middle of the desert, but then he noticed things sticking out between the structures that looked like docks.

Masts and parts of ship hulls protruded like tombstones. It looked as if the ships had sunk and then been buried in salt.

The sailors would have had no chance to escape. The sea must have turned into salt instantaneously, turning the dock area into a graveyard for ships.

Thud. The boatman’s boat touched the dock floor.

Isaac looked around with an awkward expression. The surroundings were desolate. With the port city dried up, the residents would have been at a loss for how to survive. Many residents had left, and the few who remained wandered around with gaunt faces.

It was all too realistic.

Isaac couldn’t shake the thought that had been nagging at him.

“Isn’t this the afterlife?”

Finally, Isaac asked the boatman, who was walking ahead of him.

“Yes.”

“Then is this the hell of the Salt Council?”

The boatman stared intently at Isaac.

“You know nothing about Urbansus. Don’t you know who comes to the afterlife?”

“Aren’t dead people supposed to come here?”

“Yes. Dead people. Times that have passed. Urbansus is the accumulation of all the past. The past time. The dead time. The strata of the past. The dead are merely inserted into the crevices of those moments.”

Isaac didn’t fully understand what the boatman said. But then he remembered what Aidan had explained about the afterlife. The afterlife encompasses all cultures, morals, manners, norms, and more.

It wasn’t the exact phrase, but he remembered something similar.

However, reflecting on the current landscape and the boatman’s words, the true meaning finally became clear.

The scene before his eyes was indeed a moment that had truly existed.

It was an event that occurred not long after Luadin buried the Salt Council.

Isaac had arrived at the memory of that time.

***

The boatman, who turned out to be the captain named Amundalas, led Isaac to a ship nearly buried in the salt desert. As they entered below the tilted deck, they found it half-filled with salt, seemingly solidified during the sinking.

Isaac had to walk half-bent over because of it.

The captain’s quarters were their destination.

Upon opening the door, an old woman, half-buried in salt, was revealed.

“Ah… we have a guest.”

The old woman’s eyes sparkled as Isaac entered.

Despite her haggard appearance, the unnatural gleam in her eyes made Isaac realize she was not human. The oppressive aura she exuded was overwhelming, even more so than the Drowned King’s.

“Forgive me for greeting you while seated, Isaac Issacrea. My current state is rather… fixed.”

Isaac wasn’t surprised that she knew his name. The boatman knew it too. It was clear that the Moonwell Ritual had imparted the necessary knowledge to them.

“I didn’t even realize you were sitting.”

Isaac barely managed to keep his knees from buckling and leaned against the wall as he spoke.

“…Are you the god of the Salt Council?”

The old woman laughed heartily. Isaac thought he had been too hasty in his judgment.

“Hardly. Thank you for thinking so highly of me. But don’t speak too loudly. The one who calls has become too weak and doubtful.”

‘The one who calls’ was a rarely used name for the god of the Salt Council, especially after being buried beneath the salt desert, it became a name almost unmentioned, almost like a mockery by the followers.

The old woman, pointing to her lower half, rooted like a trunk, said,

“I am Amundalas. The captain who decided not to board Luadin. Now, I am the one responsible for the Salt Council’s current state and the captain who remained on the sinking ship.”

***

The boatman, now known as Captain Amundalas, left Isaac alone with the woman.

Though she merely referred to herself as a captain, Isaac was certain she was a seraph.

‘So it wasn’t just the greedy captains who decided not to board Luadin… Was it the result of divine intervention?’

That would change the narrative significantly.

A god wouldn’t have committed such acts just to extort a few pieces of gold.

The tale shifts from a story about human greed to a conflict between a once-powerful god and a newly rising deity. It’s about the fall of one religion and the rise of another.

“So, the one who calls refused to board Luadin to check the growth of the Codex of Light?”

“That’s right. After safely delivering Luadin, the Codex of Light flourished too mightily. It seems that wasn’t satisfactory to the one who calls. But as you know, the result turned out even worse, and we lost the chance to reverse it.”

Isaac found her words strange.

Unsatisfactory results? A chance to reverse?

‘Did she foresee the future if Luadin had been boarded? And the refusal of that choice led to the Salt Council’s current state?’

It sounded like a hint of foresight or regression, and such questions flitted through Isaac’s mind. Amundalas looked intrigued as if she had noticed his confusion.

“Hmm, just as I’ve heard. You seem to know nothing about Urbansus. Have you lost your memory? Or do you think it’s better to leave it unknown?”

“I don’t understand what you mean. I have no lost memories, nor have I ever heard of it.”

Isaac said so, then remembered what Aidan had told him.

“My friend said that Urbansus is something like a collective unconscious that controls people, but this place… it feels like we’re on a timeline from the past.”

Amundalas laughed out loud.

“Your friend told you correctly. But to be more precise… this method is better.”

She began to scratch the salt-crusted floor with her fingernail, drawing lines. It was the image of a ship rocking on the waves under a scorching sun. Despite the doodle-like style, the drawing conveyed a vivid sense of life, as if it could move at any moment.

As Isaac stared intently at the drawing, Amundalas leaned in and whispered.

“You are on the ship.”

In an instant, Isaac found himself standing on the ship.

‘What?’

The sun was blazing so intensely it hurt his eyes.

Isaac went to shield himself from the sunlight and realized he was not wearing his usual armor but an outfit that felt ancient, reminiscent of Greek or Egyptian attire. And beside him, hundreds of ships were lined up, all looking in one direction.

Isaac’s gaze naturally followed the ships’ focus, towards the harbor.

Across the blue sea, something stood at the harbor.

A pale-faced man, his body engulfed in flames, was there.

At the sight of the man, Isaac immediately thought of one of the most famous figures in the world.

‘The Lighthouse Keeper, Luadin.’

–TL Notes–

Hope you enjoyed this chapter. If you want to read up to advance 20 chapters or support me, you can do it at /Akaza156