Paladin of the Dead God

“What in the world is that…?!”

“It’s the sign of a vile heretic!”

As the Commander exclaimed in shock, Soltnar blurted out nonsense. To someone who followed the Codex of Light, it seemed contradictory for something to absorb light like that. However, experienced paladins like Dera Heman immediately recognized it as a form of high-level swordsmanship.

They had seen strange phenomena emerge from the fusion of relics, sword aura, and sword techniques before. Yet, the overwhelming power Isaac was displaying was something beyond anything they had encountered.

In the next moment, Dera Heman stepped forward. It was bold of him to approach such a terrifying mass of power, but common sense dictated that, with such a potent force, one should avoid it and wait for an opportunity.

However, instead of retreating, Dera charged straight at Isaac.

At that moment, Isaac realized something.

‘Damn.’

Before Dera could get any closer, Isaac struck with Isaac Swordsmanship: Event Horizon. The black sword aura collided head-on with Dera’s drawn Luadin Key.

*Boom!*

A tempest erupted, sweeping through the monastery. The paladins, barely able to stay on their feet, widened their eyes to witness what would be a moment for the history books.

However, there wasn’t much to see. As the dust whipped away in the wind, the scene that unfolded revealed the courtyard shattered into pieces, as though a monster had clawed through it. Walls and floors were cracked in bizarre shapes.

But the most gruesome sight was Isaac himself. It looked as if he had borne the brunt of the explosion alone, leaving him covered in wounds.

Of course, Dera was not unscathed either. His once pristine white armor was now in tatters, resembling a rag. His mask had been cracked in several places, and from behind it, Isaac saw Dera’s deformed eyes.

Three eyes emerged from behind the broken mask, all fixated on Isaac. The moment their gazes met, Isaac felt his strength draining. At the same time, the Luadin Key flew toward him.

*Shhhk, clang! Crack!*

Isaac barely managed to block with Kaldwin. He was using every ounce of strength he had to fend it off, but it was clear he was struggling.

Watching this, the Commander let out a sigh of relief.

“…It seems using such a powerful technique right from the start has backfired on the Holy Grail Knight.”

“A powerful technique? You’re telling me that was swordsmanship?”

“It’s an incredibly advanced sword technique. Most people would have been shredded to pieces in an instant. But not our commander. A move that strong must have a significant recoil, so Isaac must have been overly confident.”

As the Commander pointed out, Isaac was barely managing to hold on.

However, the Commander couldn’t fathom how Dera Heman had managed to deflect such a potent technique. Still, after closely observing their battle, he found a clue.

‘Could it be… the influence of Kalsen Miller?’

Isaac was aware that Kalsen Miller had decisively defeated Dera Heman in a duel.

What he didn’t know, though, was that after the duel, Dera had relentlessly studied and trained to surpass Kalsen Miller.

The Commander now understood why this battle was so one-sided.

Whether Isaac was a hidden disciple of Kalsen Miller or a member of his renegade knight order, the influence of Kalsen was evident.

And Dera Heman had spent countless hours preparing to defeat that very Kalsen Miller. He had studied their fight to such an extent that even if he were to face Kalsen again, he would be able to crush him.

‘It’s over.’

Isaac was barely holding on. In fact, Dera could have knocked him down at any moment. Yet, for some reason, he wasn’t finishing Isaac off, as though he was waiting for something.

*Crunch!*

But no reversal came.

Isaac’s wrist twisted at an unnatural angle, rendering him unable to hold his sword, and Kaldwin was sent flying. At that moment, Dera hesitated, then raised his sword, ready to deliver the final blow.

That’s when Hesabel and the Commander rushed forward instinctively. The Commander frantically stopped Dera, while Hesabel shielded Isaac.

“Commander, Commander! We agreed to put him on trial! You can’t kill him now! Think of the Issacrea Dawn Army!”

Thankfully, Dera Heman lowered his sword. His bloodshot eyes, still full of rage, stared at Isaac before he finally sheathed his weapon and left the courtyard without a word.

The Commander let out a sigh of relief as he glanced at Isaac and the other paladins.

“Isaac Issacrea. The duel is over, and as of now, your position as the commander of the Issacrea Dawn Army is revoked. Inquisitor Soltnar Culvain has also charged you with heresy. Until a fair trial is conducted, you will be held under the custody of the Golden Lion Paladins.”

The words struck like thunder, and one would have expected immediate backlash.

Yet, Isaac showed no resistance. Far from looking like a defeated man, he appeared calmer than anyone else, even more composed than Dera. The Commander found this unsettling but gestured for the paladins to take Isaac away.

“Escort him.”

***

Every monastery of the paladin orders was equipped with a prison meant for confining heretics, apostates, and pagans.

Of course, most of those confined were apprentice knights who were caught sneaking out of the monastery to drink.

The Milishar Monastery had its own underground prison as well.

What set it apart from other prisons, though, was that its windows faced the sea, allowing saltwater to seep in with every crashing wave. The walls were rough, cold, damp, and reeked of fish—a prison in every sense of the word.

“We understand that it’s improper to place a renowned Holy Grail Knight in such a place, but we ask that you quietly await your trial. We are certain there will be a fair outcome.”

One of the paladins who had escorted Isaac cautiously spoke. As with most prisons of this nature, prayers and seals had been placed to prevent the activation of miracles, though no one knew if they would still work after being neglected for so long.

But Isaac had no intention of causing trouble. The paladins seemed visibly relieved.

They kept their distance from Isaac’s cell and whispered to each other.

“If even half the rumors about the Holy Grail Knight are true, this prison wouldn’t hold him for a second, right?”

“Commander’s keeping watch. If you try to escape, he’ll behead you on the spot. What choice do you have?”

Isaac chuckled bitterly but didn’t bother to argue.

‘So it’s come to this,’ he thought, glancing around the prison.