Paladin of the Dead God
Chapter 98

“I have received a mission to serve the Light.”

Isolde stood at the door, reciting a short prayer.

Hesabel looked at her strangely for standing still, but Isolde paid her no mind.

“As before, grant me wisdom and patience moving forward, and help me fill my life with light. Assist me in serving you without tiring.”

With a firm resolve, she opened the door.

Inside, Isaac sat on the bed, his complexion pale. Yet, despite this, he was as beautiful as the first time she saw him.

As if the sight from last night was a lie.

Wondering how to start the conversation, Isolde decided to ask something she couldn’t help but wonder.

“Why did you apply flour to your face?”

At that, Isaac glared at Hesabel. He roughly wiped his cheek, muttering,

“I told you it was useless. Did you really think the inquisitor would fall for such a trick?”

“It worked up until now…”

Wiping his cheek, the pallor seemed to return to a normal color. Isolde burst into laughter upon realizing Isaac had been pretending to be sick.

“You didn’t need to go through such trouble. Lord Isaac, you already look frail enough. It hardly makes a difference.”

Hesabel glared at Isolde, but Isolde paid her no mind.

Though their plan to garner sympathy failed, it seemed to lighten the mood. Seeing Isolde laugh, Isaac thought she wasn’t about to attack him yelling, “You tentacle monster!”

Isaac gestured towards Hesabel.

“Step out for a moment.”

“Lord Isaac…”

“If you’re here, it might deepen misunderstandings. After all, what could happen that I couldn’t handle, that you would be able to stop?”

Hesabel grumbled but, knowing he was right, quietly stepped out. Before leaving, she pointed from her eyes to Isolde with two fingers, warning her.

Of course, Isolde seemed unfazed.

With Hesabel gone, Isolde spoke up.

“It seems you really do have control over her, as expected.”

“Yes. I was worried if she might have caused any trouble while I was unconscious.”

Before losing consciousness, Hesabel and Isolde were on the brink of a fight. Despite Hesabel’s often clumsy demeanor, she is the heir of the Wallachia Duke, with a number and power of kills that Isolde couldn’t match. Had a fight broken out, Isolde might have disappeared without a trace.

“She was a bit aggressive but complied in the end, especially while taking care of you…”

Isolde began to speak naturally but paused, seemingly recalling that moment.

Isaac felt it was time to discuss matters seriously.

“I imagine you were quite shocked at the time… but first, I want to thank you for not reporting me.”

“Before that, could I ask what exactly happened back then?”

Isaac had endlessly pondered how to excuse himself, but seeing Isolde’s demeanor, he felt confident enough to be honest. It was unclear whether it was a matter of life or death, but Isolde seemed to have postponed judging Isaac.

There might be a chance to persuade her.

“It was as you saw.”

“So, it really was…”

Isaac nodded.

“Yes, I am…”

“… indeed suffering from a peculiar curse of the undead order, causing my body to transform!”

Isaac nearly blurted out that he was using the power of the nameless chaos but swallowed the words just in time.

Looking hurriedly into Isolde’s eyes, it didn’t seem she was joking.

Isaac recalled the moment he revealed his tentacles in front of Isolde, his hands and eyes sprouting tentacles at the threshold of the netherworld portal opened by Al Duard, creating a bizarre scene.

‘Could she have misunderstood?’

Instead of eagerly agreeing and lying, Isaac opted for silence and a pained expression, thereby fueling Isolde’s imagination. People are often more deceived by their own imaginations than by others’ lies.

Isaac could deceive Isolde if he wanted to.

But he had already read her inner thoughts.

She was prepared to be deceived. No, she wanted to be deceived.

That the figure she saw was merely a hallucination caused by a curse from an evil priest, and that the person before her was a wholly pious and righteous Grail Knight.

She wanted to believe that.

And Isaac had no intention of letting her believe so.

Isaac smiled bitterly.

“No. That’s my secret.”

The expression on Isolde’s face faded.

Isaac could deceive Isolde. But what then? Could he hide the truth forever?

This situation made Isaac realize that he could face unforeseen circumstances beyond his preparation or prediction.

Especially before verifying the identity of the figure in yellow clothes from the afterlife.

Killing Isolde was an option, but despite considering it several times, he never followed through.

Isaac didn’t want to.

For the same reasons Isolde didn’t want to accuse Isaac.

“I am not cursed, Inquisitor.”

***

Isaac spoke honestly.

He explained that the tentacles had manifested since his time in the monastery, he fed on small animals to grow them, and that what the tentacles consumed had also helped his growth and survival. He even admitted to relying on the tentacles to stop the Walraika human hunters in the valley.

However, he didn’t tell her everything. It was a selective confession.

‘There’s no need to mention coming from another world, consuming Kalsen or Heinkel…’

Truthfully, Isaac felt no qualms about whom he had consumed. They were either beasts or those unworthy of life. He had even refrained from consuming humans, even the most criminal.

“…And that’s how I defeated the Prophet of Red Flesh and repelled the bishop of the immortal order. But I cannot deny that I borrowed the power of an unknown divinity in the process.”

While he had to admit to the tentacles since Isolde had seen them, he avoided mentioning the nameless chaos or the distasteful acts of consumption. After all, the negative perception built by the nameless chaos wasn’t Isaac’s concern.

Isaac wanted to be responsible only for what he had to. In that regard, he acted out of selfish motives but hadn’t committed any evil deeds.

Isolde listened to Isaac’s confession silently for a long time. She wasn’t a priest hearing a confession but someone more accustomed to extracting the truth under intense pressure.

Ironically, she found this straightforward confession unfamiliar.

After a while, Isolde finally spoke.

“Then, do you not believe in the Codex of Light?”

“I suppose you could say I don’t actively deny it.”

In a world where gods and miracles existed, denying faith seemed absurd. Rather, he had no intention of actively praising or worshiping any god.

“But the abbot performed a proof of faith for me. I believe faith isn’t solely proved by praising and worshiping a deity.”

Faith.

The Codex of Light teaches universal physical laws as the “Codex of Light,” essentially codifying the universal order itself. To Isaac, it seemed every other faith, in some form, adhered to the order led by the Law of Light.

Though the form of worship varied, all acknowledged the world’s existence in its current form.

“Then miracles too…”

“Yes. If you were to call it a miracle, this would be my miracle.”

Isaac blatantly showed his tentacles to Isolde. The crimson tentacles emerged from his palm, longer than a finger, undulating gently. Isolde inhaled sharply out of a physiological repulsion but didn’t immediately proclaim to burn Isaac at the stake.

Suppressing her aversion, she cautiously reached out to touch the tentacle.

The tentacle lightly wrapped around her fingers, not appearing ferocious in any way.

‘This thing is cunning, too.’

Isaac was momentarily taken aback that the tentacle didn’t show teeth or eyes.

Although the tentacle didn’t seem eager to reveal itself in front of Isolde, it followed Isaac’s intent, not feeling ‘threatening’ by somewhat concealing its appearance.

After a moment, Isolde withdrew her hand and sighed deeply.

She seemed to be wrestling with complex thoughts and didn’t speak for a long time. Isaac, understanding her position, thought she would need at least half a day to find words again and patiently waited.

Fortunately, Isolde didn’t take half a day to respond.

“Sometimes, the miracles of God come in astonishing forms.”

Isaac looked at her, wondering what she was getting at.

“A mercenary sending children saved from battlefields to orphanages, a merchant selling food at low prices in famine-stricken areas, a mother who jumps into a fire to save her child and returns alive… I consider all these also miracles.”

“Are you saying this tentacle is a miracle?”

“Miracles don’t come only to save us from hardships. Sometimes… the hardship itself is the miracle. Like when Luadin wandered the lowest places and then stood at the stake.”

Isolde gripped Isaac’s hand firmly, not caring whether it had tentacles or not.

“You have already shown a miracle. Even in situations where ‘it’ could be easily misunderstood and miracles are hard to expect, you have done good and defended the weak. Unlike the priests who, despite performing miracles daily, don’t even glance at what’s under their feet!”

This time, Isaac was startled by Isolde’s unexpectedly radical words.

Her eyes were on Isaac’s hand, but it was clear she was seeing some past only she knew.

What she had seen during her time as an inquisitor.

Contrary to what Isaac might have thought, Isolde’s mind wasn’t a bed of roses.

“You don’t need to loudly proclaim your faith in the Codex of Light. There are already too many of those types. You are already living by the values and rules that should be protected. That’s enough!”

Isaac was taken aback by her words. He had planned to rely on sentiment, not a real miracle, but he hadn’t expected such an overflow of emotion.

Her logic was not that of an inquisitor.

‘Wait, does this mean I should be distancing myself from this crazy inquisitor?’

Isaac’s aim was to become a knight within the Codex of Light, to live well and eat well. Making Isolde an ally in the process was sufficient.

But to discover Isolde was such a radical…

“Inquisitor, please calm down for a moment…”

However, Isolde grasped Isaac’s hand even more firmly and said,

“Lord Isaac, you are undoubtedly a messenger sent by the Codex of Light to reestablish order!”

***

‘This is madness.’

After Isolde left, Isaac reflected on her for a moment.

It was clear Isolde did not follow the typical path of an inquisitor. Her infamy as an inquisitor was such that even Gebel openly despised it.

Yet, Isolde was sincere and upright.

Not exactly traits befitting an inquisitor.

Isaac thought this was due to her being from a noble house that ‘didn’t get its hands dirty’ with inquisitorial tasks. However, his view of Isolde changed today.

‘A reformer. And a quite radical one at that.’

Nobles are divided into those aligned with the church and those with the emperor.

Among them, the Brant ducal family is known for its deep piety. Was this solely her own will?

Isaac considered that unlikely. If the church were to undergo radical reforms, who would benefit?

‘Is this mingled with the intentions of the imperial faction nobles?’

Or was it genuine disappointment with the church?

Isaac couldn’t tell how purely Isolde wished for the church’s reform.

Just as Isolde chose not to accuse Isaac and to trust him, he also wanted to trust her.

Whether for practical reasons or personal ones.

Isaac recalled the moment when the afterlife overflowed through Al Duard’s spell.

When the world was crumbling, and the boundaries were blurring.

When his body, too, was filled with chaos, and tentacles overflowed.

Only Isolde remained unshaken, capable of pulling him back into the realm of order.

Isaac felt this was an important clue for his future.