Paladin of the Dead God

The massive sea serpent, with its bronze-hued scales, struck Isaac as oddly familiar.

"This must be the serpent I saw watching me when I consumed the Caller’s flesh."

Feeling a suspicion stirring within him, Isaac opened his mouth to speak.

“Amundalas, is that you?”

The bronze sea serpent flicked its tongue briefly before answering Isaac through a mental ripple.

[Yes, it is I. We seem to meet quite often lately.]

It had only been earlier that evening when Isaac last encountered Amundalas in Urbansus. Yet, here he was, back again—or so it seemed. Twice in one day was more than enough for someone who rarely ventured into Urvansus.

Even accounting for Miarma being the sacred ground of the Salt Council, this felt excessive.

Amundalas’s mental tone carried a mix of emotions as she spoke again.

Isaac noted how unusually formal Amundalas sounded. While she was always polite, there was a nervousness in her manner that hinted at deeper concern. Rather than attributing this change to his elevated status, Isaac recalled the vision he had witnessed.

Perhaps what almost happened to him triggered a past trauma for Amundalas.

“Don’t worry about it. All’s well as long as I’m safe, isn’t it?”

Isaac’s calm response seemed to bring her relief. She had likely remembered the Salt Council’s betrayal of Luadin and its consequences. While Isaac wasn’t yet comparable to the Lighthouse Keeper, he had achieved feats that rivaled those of the living Luadin.

[To prevent you from being drawn further into the Summon, I forcibly pushed you back onto the shore. However, when you didn’t wake, I considered summoning Chorong Anglerfish before your vassal appeared.]

Isaac turned briefly to Hesabel, who was watching the exchange with a mix of curiosity and suspicion. Since she couldn’t hear Amundalas’s voice, she was piecing together context from Isaac’s reactions. She seemed to decide that if Isaac was accepting Amundalas’s explanation, she had every right to hold her head high even before an angel.

"So, the Summon wasn’t intentional after all."

Nodding, Isaac asked, “The Caller is still asleep, correct?”

[That is correct.]

It seemed Amundalas wasn’t aware that Isaac had met Rael. Isaac hesitated, contemplating how to share what he had seen, and then began speaking.

“In truth, while I was submerged in the water…”

Isaac described the vision or experience he had witnessed—the flourishing city of Miarma, Amundalas standing on the pier, the boy priest Rael, and the destruction of Miarma after orders were given.

If what he had seen were truly Urvansus, Amundalas would have known. As an Archangel, she often traversed Urbansus freely. This implied that what Isaac had witnessed was something else entirely.

Hearing that Isaac had seen “erased history,” Amundalas seemed deeply shocked. However, Isaac deliberately omitted the part where Rael had murmured, “I don’t know who the Dreamer is, but they’re better than the Lighthouse Keeper or the White Owl.”

The Caller had predicted Isaac’s existence and even foreseen the shattering of the Salt Desert. If the god of the Salt Council had anticipated their own order’s destruction, who knew how Amundalas might react? ʀΆꞐ𝘖ＢÈş

Indeed, what Isaac had seen wasn’t Urvansus.

[What you saw did happen in Miarma, but it was not entirely accurate.]

“Not accurate?”

[Rael—or rather, the Caller—is not capable of speaking so coherently. The Caller would stubbornly wait a hundred or a thousand years until their desires were fulfilled. Sometimes they have profound intentions, but even I, as an Archangel, cannot comprehend their transcendent judgment.]

Isaac couldn’t tell whether her words carried sarcasm or resignation. Regardless, it implied that Rael, in reality, was merely a child throwing tantrums, incapable of rational persuasion.

A god’s personality isn’t necessarily mature or wise. After all, even a mere natural phenomenon can become a god if it garners enough worship and faith.

Amundalas, reflecting on Isaac’s account, spoke again.

[Perhaps what you saw was the Caller’s dream.]

“A dream?”

[The Caller might have wanted to express such thoughts to me, but they couldn’t. So, in their dream, they grumbled about it instead. To witness a god’s dream—it must have been a rare experience.]

Peering into a god’s dream was certainly remarkable. It seemed the Caller had recalled the day Miarma fell as a tribute to its restoration.

Still, Isaac couldn’t shake the feeling that this incident wasn’t so simple.

"The Caller wanted to show me something."

By revealing its own destruction, it seemed to be urging him to choose a path better than the Lighthouse Keeper or the White Owl.

"What choices did they make, and why are they so critical?"

***

The shattering of the Salt Desert’s effects extended far beyond the vicinity of Miarma.

The shattering of the Salt Desert had sent a ripple throughout the world, and nearly all Salt Council captains heard the Summon. Wanting to understand the situation, they contacted one another, convening meetings across various locations. Ultimately, they concluded that the situation in Miarma needed to be assessed immediately.

“Captain Eidan, a ship is approaching!”

Standing at the docks in front of Miarma, Eidan recognized the incoming ship immediately.

The vessel glided smoothly to the dock, almost as if it had been waiting for this moment. Even before it fully stopped, Yenkos Hare leapt from the ship and landed on the dock, bounding toward Eidan with excitement.

“Eidan! Captain Eidan!”

As soon as Yenkos spotted him, her face lit up with a mix of astonishment and joy, and she threw her arms around him.

Eidan understood her emotions and returned the embrace.

“Is this a dream or reality? Am I truly the first captain in a thousand years to dock at Miarma’s harbor?”

“It’s real, Captain Yenkos. And like reality, it comes with a mountain of problems.”

Yenkos was about to rebuke him for such irreverence on such a momentous day, but as her gaze wandered, she fell silent.

Salt Council devotees often grew up hearing tales of the Final Day of Miarma, a story that painted the city as a vibrant, prosperous paradise. Yet, what lay before Yenkos was nothing but a barren, crumbling ruin. Few buildings remained intact, and the air reeked of decay from the uncleaned carcasses of monsters scattered about.

Nevertheless, Yenkos quickly regained her composure.

“This isn’t exactly the sight I dreamed of, but recovering our sacred ground and the voice of our god is blessing enough.”

“You arrived later than I expected. I thought you’d come as soon as the desert broke.”

“Then you must not have seen the state of the outer salt dykes. The seawater rushing through the collapsed dykes was overwhelming—it would’ve been suicide to sail through. We only came in after it stabilized and widened enough for safe passage.”

“I see… But even now, we might need to leave Miarma again. With no housing, sanitation, or infrastructure, we’ll need to bring in supplies before we can repurpose this place as a base.”

The land, long abandoned under the Cursed Sun, had lost all fertility, turning into a barren wasteland. There were no neighbors to call for aid—only skeletal remnants of settlements left behind.

“Our biggest issue is food. There’s no fish in the waters off Miarma.”

“No fish? Hm, it might be the salt levels.”

Though the Salt Desert was dissolving rapidly, its waters were still several times saltier than normal seas. Even marine life couldn’t survive in such conditions.

In reality, the lack of marine life was primarily due to the Caller’s fissure, which continued to devour creatures from the surrounding sea. Unaware of this, Eidan could only assume it was a salinity issue.

Yenkos, however, grinned confidently.

“Don’t worry—I didn’t come empty-handed.”

Thud. Another ship docked at the pier. The large, ornate vessel that followed Yenkos’s ship bore the flag of the Golden Idol Guild. The merchants who responded swiftly to the Salt Council’s revival were keen opportunists.

A gangplank was lowered, and a woman emerged, accompanied by a guard. It was Leonora and her escort, Shalok. Unlike her usual attire, Leonora was dressed in practical traveling clothes, layered with light armor.

At Leonora’s command, the unloading of supplies began immediately. Barrels and crates filled with wine, wheat, medicines, fabric, and other essential resources began to pour onto the dock. Watching the supplies being unloaded, Eidan felt a weight lift from his shoulders, as if a centuries-old burden had been resolved.

“Lady Leonora, how did you manage to bring exactly what we needed?”

Leonora gave Eidan a look as if the answer should be obvious.

“It’s a city that’s been abandoned for a thousand years. If a merchant can’t predict basic supply and demand, they’re worthless.”

“…We don’t have the money to pay for all this, though…”

“Don’t worry. I’ll charge it to the Holy Grail Knight’s account.”

Leonora said this casually as she surveyed the area.

“Where’s the Issacrea Dawn Army? I don’t see their banners.”

Yenkos, having been preoccupied inspecting Miarma, realized she had overlooked something important. Eidan scratched the back of his head, looking sheepish.

“Sir Isaac has already departed for the Holy Land Lua. He believed the Immortal Order would have noticed the desert’s collapse, so he moved quickly.”

“Is that so? Then he must have gone east.”

Seeing Leonora’s expression, Eidan grew uneasy. She looked ready to follow Isaac immediately.

“Lady Leonora, surely you’re not planning to follow him?”

“I have something to tell the Holy Grail Knight,” Leonora said with a nod.

“The Dawn Army’s main force is moving at an alarming pace. They’ve already burned Belslav and are marching south. Even with Khan’s army joining the fight, the Red Chalice forces were defeated. The main force is advancing much faster than anticipated, even without an angel’s intervention.”

“You mean…”

Eidan sensed the grave implication behind her words and tensed.

“Exactly. The Immortal Order is conserving its strength, likely to strike the Issacrea Dawn Army. If that happens… the Holy Grail Knight will be in serious trouble.”

***

Belslav: The Flower on the Hill

Belslav’s name translates to "Flower on the Hill."

Despite its beautiful name, the "flower" refers to an impregnable fortress resembling rose petals layered atop a hill. According to legend, the Red Chalice deity—the Dancer—had named it after admiring the site’s beauty. Now, no trace of that flower garden remains.

Located at a crucial military and economic crossroads, the city was fought over for centuries by the Olkan Code, the Red Chalice, and the Codex of Light. Each new ruler expanded the fortress, adding layer upon layer of defenses.

Ultimately, after countless changes of hands, the city fell to the Immortal Order.

As the easternmost stronghold, Belslav served as the northernmost city of the Urdantu Empire under the Immortal Order’s rule.

At least, until yesterday.

[Retreat to the inner fortress!]

CRASH! The sound of scorching heat and blinding light scraping against the fortress walls echoed violently. A Death Knight crushed beneath the molten stone froze solid, petrified by its own chilling aura. Yet the radiance pouring from the “Lighthouse” melted even that stone statue.

Witnessing the destruction, the Death Knight commander trembled in fury and shouted:

[Those wretches have no intention of capturing Belslav! Retreat!]

Most armies would retreat through the rear gates, but for the undead, the options were broader. They chose the fortress well, a waterway leading to a nearby river, as their escape route.

The undead, capable of surviving a century underwater, could afford such a choice.

The Death Knight commander couldn’t comprehend the Codex of Light’s methods.

To deny other factions the use of this strategic stronghold, one should seize and fortify it. For centuries, factions had fought over this city, always using it as a foothold. But the Dawn Army outside the walls seemed indifferent, intent instead on melting the entire city of Belslav into oblivion.

"As if they have no intention of ever using it again…"

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