Paladin of the Dead God
Chapter 118

After being hauled in by the Fisher King’s net, whaling equipment was deployed to hunt the Drowned King.

This was the irreverent yet crude strategy established by Hyanis.

The Drowned King thought the Fisher King’s net was plausible, but found it absurd that whaling equipment was all that was summoned for the hunt.

Could a few mere harpoons used for whaling capture an angel?

But this was a misconception of the Drowned King.

The whaling industry, also known as whaling, had developed beyond the Drowned King’s imagination over the past millennium.

“Fire!”

As soon as the ships adjusted their angles, the whaling harpoons hanging from the ballistae were simultaneously launched towards the Drowned King. Even without the Fisher King’s net, hitting such a massive target was more challenging.

Boom, boom-boom!

The Drowned King couldn’t help but be astonished by the giant harpoons that instantly pierced through his torso.

Harpoons nearly the size of anchors were embedded in his body.

In the past, whaling meant driving whales to the shore and throwing harpoons or causing them to beach. However, these harpoons were equipment designed to finish off the whales and drag them to the harbor.

The Drowned King felt a strange sensation upon seeing this.

He had spent a millennium buried in the deep sea, declining to the level of beasts without even speaking. But during that time, his followers had continuously advanced to survive in a world without the miracles that protected them.

“Jam them in with everything we’ve got!”

The sailors of the Salt Council closed their eyes tightly and fired the harpoons. The Drowned King did not attempt to dodge or block with his tentacles; he simply took the hits. Some sailors cried as they fired the harpoons at the Drowned King, who was bleeding miserably.

They all grew up hearing stories of the angel who remained in this world to protect the Salt Council after God had left. Of course, the Drowned King had spent most of that time asleep in the deep sea, but the mere fact of his existence allowed the followers of the Salt Council to feel a connection to God.

But now, they were severing that connection with their own hands.

“The first fleet’s work is done!”

“The second fleet is finished!”

As the notifications of the harpoon work’s completion followed one after another, Hyanis gave the next order.

“If the harpoons are set, the first fleet will immediately break formation!”

The ships promptly exited the formation and began to move. In traditional whaling, this would be the process of dragging the catch to the harbor, but there was no direction to this fleet’s departure.

Rather, they were scattering in all directions.

It was a process designed to tear the Drowned King to pieces.

The ropes attached to the harpoons made a fierce vibrating sound. The whaling ships used every sail and oar to pull the Drowned King in their direction with all their might.

Thud, thud-thud.

With gruesome sounds, the flesh of the Drowned King began to tear. Some pieces flew off with the harpoons, leaving behind massive wounds, while others were dragged out whole, tangled in the Fisher King’s net.

The Drowned King was being disassembled alive.

[So it is.]

The Drowned King muttered calmly as he watched his body being torn apart, in a tone that belied the brutal dismemberment he was undergoing.

[This is the decision of the Council.]

The Drowned King remembered the time before the Salt Council was formed when it was called the Salt Sect.

Those left behind, severed from God, feared making decisions on their own without God’s will. Instead, they created the Council so that everyone could share the responsibility.

If a decision was made by the will of all the followers, it might not be much different from God’s will.

Thus, the Drowned King had respected the decisions of the Salt Council.

And now, the Salt Council had decided and was executing his death sentence.

A fitting conclusion for a heretic.

[If that’s the case…]

***

Isaac squinted his eyes as he watched the Drowned King being torn apart.

Hyanis seemed to think the battle was already decided. But Isaac had a different view.

‘It would be nice if this was the end of the Drowned King, but…’

The regenerative abilities of the Drowned King are nearly infinite. The current scene may seem horrific, but if he decides to resist, it wouldn’t be surprising if half the fleet were to be sunk immediately.

If the Drowned King dies here, it would be because he has given up himself. Respecting the Council’s decision, realizing his sins, and repenting for his crimes.

In fact, this was one of the strategies Isaac had considered.

However, Isaac deemed the likelihood of this happening to be low.

At that moment, Isaac noticed the Drowned King’s body writhing.

Creak, creak-creak.

The Fisher King’s net began to scream. Seeing this, Isaac immediately shouted.

“Cut all the ropes!”

Hyanis, who was vigorously pulling the sail ropes to encourage the ships to depart, did not hear Isaac’s voice. Even if he had, it would have been difficult to respond immediately to Isaac’s command to release the Drowned King in the current situation.

Without much thought, Isaac kicked off the surface and cut the nearest ropes. Bang. The taut ropes snapped, whipping the surface of the water. The suddenly freed ships shot forward, tossing the sailors about.

Hyanis, seeing some ships teetering as if about to capsize, realized that Isaac had cut the ropes. Just as he was about to scold Isaac, the Drowned King violently twisted his body in midair.

Boom. One of the Salt Council’s most precious relics, the Fisher King’s net, was torn to shreds, and dozens of ships were lifted into the air.

A deafening roar swallowed all other sounds.

The large ships fluttered lightly like fallen leaves. After a brief silence, dozens of ships collided and shattered in the air and sea in an instant.

Kaboom!

A terrifying roar echoed.

In a situation where even the sturdy ships shattered like glass, there was no chance for human bodies made of flesh and blood to withstand.

Mangled debris, blood, and flesh mixed together and poured down with the rain.

Only the ships that Isaac had cut the ropes of, those that had already lost their anchors, or those fortunate enough to have their ropes snap due to poor condition, survived. The Brave Salmon, which Hyanis was aboard, was one of those lucky ships.

But Hyanis could not consider himself fortunate.

Those who survived had to witness hell with their own eyes.

Splish-splash. Unrecognizable human fragments and broken ships poured onto the deck. One ship, impaled by a large mast, tilted and eventually sank.

Hyanis felt deaf.

It seemed his hearing had gone when the Drowned King blew all the ships away.

Or perhaps he had lost his mind.

“…Hyanis!”

Why did I try to confront an angel? Did I underestimate the angel because of rumors that a nearby Holy Grail Knight had banished an angel alone? Did I really think we could win with just the relics and whaling equipment?

Was the angel who helped the sect build a maritime empire a thousand years ago that laughable?

“Hyanis!”

Annihilation.

That word flashed through Hyanis’s mind. The Salt Council’s largest and most expensive ships had almost all gathered here. Including the rare priests who were captains.

All those assets would be worthlessly sunk to the bottom of the sea.

With no one left to tell of their deaths.

And the person who led to this tragedy was none other than Hyanis himself.

“Hyanis, snap out of it!”

Slap! Hyanis’s cheek turned.

Finally, Hyanis came to his senses and turned his head. Yenkos, covered in blood, clenched her fist. She thought Hyanis was still out of it and slapped him again.

“That’s enough. I’m awake. Stop hitting me. I lost a tooth.”

“Are you back? So, what’s the next move? You must have a next strategy, right?”

Yenkos asked for the next strategy, seemingly unfazed by the shocking scene. Suddenly, Hyanis realized his proficiency in archaeology. He knew far more about the Drowned King than others. He must have known that this would be the outcome if they faced the Drowned King.

Only then did Hyanis understand why Yenkos had been so reluctant to confront the Drowned King. And that it must have taken her several times more courage to decide to face him than anyone else.

But Hyanis felt like crying.

“There is no next strategy.”

“No? Is this all you have against an angel?”

“Yes.”

There was a plan.

But the moment he saw this catastrophe, he realized that a second or third plan was useless. It would only increase the food for fish and the trash in the sea.

Everything he had prepared was useless against the overwhelming power of the angel.

Yenkos silently looked at Hyanis. There was no blame or resentment in her gaze. She turned her head calmly, her eyes empty.

“Then we have no choice but to pray.”

Hyanis followed Yenkos’ gaze with tears in his eyes. She was not looking at the sky.

Her gaze was on the sea, towards the only person who could save them in place of the silent God.

***

Isaac watched the tragic scene of the ships being shattered.

The scene seemed to symbolize the relationship between the Salt Council and the Drowned King.

The Drowned King had shown leniency and forgiveness to the Salt Council, even when they took a subtle stance and resisted passively. Even in that fierce situation, he tried to ensure that not a single sailor of the Salt Council died.

But he declared the end of the relationship in a gruesome and cruel way.

It meant that the Drowned King was no longer the angel of the Salt Council but had become a monster of the deep sea.

Of course, the god of the Salt Council could neither make him a fallen angel nor punish him.

The Fisher King’s net, even torn, squeezed out the last miracle to hold onto the Drowned King, but it didn’t last long. The Drowned King returned to the sea as if flowing down.

The sea was blackened with the blood of the Drowned King and the sailors.

His body was holed, torn, chopped, and mutilated. But as soon as the seawater seeped in, the wounds healed as if filling the gaps.

The Drowned King’s azure eyes flickered as they turned towards Isaac.

[It’s hard to deny that you also bear responsibility for this scene, Holy Grail Knight.]

“Talking big.”

Isaac felt not even a speck of guilt.

But he gestured towards Hyanis. The morale of the Salt Council must have been at rock bottom, and they had no means to attack anymore. It was better for them to be gone if even the Fisher King’s net, their only hope, was destroyed.

The ships of the Salt Council hesitated but eventually began to drift away slowly. The Drowned King did not pursue to destroy them as they retreated. Or perhaps he believed that even if they retreated, he could soon follow and sink them all.

[Why do you oppose me? Because you think I aspire to become an ancient god? No, even the term ‘ancient god’ is laughable. Until the rise of the Codex of Light, the ancient gods were simply the gods of this world!]

The Drowned King seethed with anger.

[They were the gods and the very order that ruled this land for tens of thousands of years! The era of light created by Luadin has lasted merely a thousand years! We’re merely returning to the starting point!]

“It took a thousand years to get this far.”

Isaac muttered as he drew out the key of Luadin.

“Having consumed a domain, I understand now. Even now, I think it’s barbaric. Every time I open my eyes, I grumble about how to make these ignorant and lacking zealots come to their senses.”

The Drowned King quietly listened to Isaac’s sudden soliloquy.

“At least these people don’t sacrifice humans, and in their own ways, they wish for as many people as possible to be happy, and they believe that living a good life by their moral standards will get them to heaven. I’m thankful for that.”

Isaac gripped the key of Luadin again and lifted it. The sword was slippery with blood and rain. It was hard to even keep his eyes open.

It’s all about living well and prospering, so why has it come to this?

But this was precisely what Isaac was doing to live comfortably and well.

It was also the reason he couldn’t actively accept it until he knew the inner workings of the nameless chaos.

“It’s not that we should return to the times when ancient gods ruled for tens of thousands of years… It’s that we’ve only just progressed to this level after adding a thousand years to those tens of thousands of years. You’re talking about returning to such a primitive era. I can’t stand to watch that happen.”

He desired light and order.

[The nameless chaos watches over you.]

The Luadin Key flared up with a red heat again.