Paladin of the Dead God

Isaac often imagined what it would be like to see the world’s end as an apostle of the Nameless Chaos.

The more brutal the wars became and the harsher the world seemed, the stronger those impulses grew.

It was particularly during times when the very systems he was meant to protect—such as the Codex of Light or the angels—appeared as nothing more than the worst kind of filth. If everything he struggled to preserve turned out to be disgusting, foul heaps of garbage... then wouldn’t it be better to simply wipe it all away?

After all, unleashing his tentacles could solve any situation with ease.

While Isaac had survived by mimicking a paladin of the Codex of Light, he had long since passed the point where such pretense was necessary. Had he abandoned morality and rules earlier, dedicating himself solely to growth while wandering the fringes, he might already be several times stronger.

If he had devoured without hesitation, abused strange rituals and sorcery, and torn holes in the world to summon minions of Chaos at will.

But he didn’t.

Because there were people he cherished, people who followed him.

Isaac feared betraying their expectations far more than becoming a monster himself.

“Do you think such shameless lies will work? Or did it not occur to you that once exposed, they’d make you look utterly ridiculous?” Isaac mocked.

Pallor, however, didn’t seem the least bit ashamed.

Meaningful conversation with an archangel, especially when meeting as enemies, was pointless. They were not beings who voiced opinions—they were messengers and enforcers.

[I know.]

“Know what? Shame?”

[That you rely on them. Even the Immortal Emperor mentioned as much.]

Isaac tried to make sense of Pallor’s words, but the archangel spread its wings wide and began to rise.

[Even confirming your weakness has meaning.]

Pallor flapped its wings powerfully, and the frost covering the desert spread further, becoming an even more brilliant white.

***

The approaching cold was so intense that large ice crystals became visible to the naked eye.

Bang, bang! The Armyes left behind on the battlefield by the Issacrea Knight Order exploded as they froze and shattered.

Even the armor of the Death Knights couldn’t withstand the ferocious cold, splintering with a sharp cry.

Though sheltered by the blessing of the Codex of Light, Isaac and the Issacrea Knight Order could still feel the chill creeping in.

Isaac drew the Luadin Key and plunged it into the ground. The heat radiating from the key reinforced their miracle, driving out the frost that seeped through the earth. But there were many to protect, and the miracle consumed immense power.

“Is the Sword of May not coming?”

He wasn’t counting on it, so he felt no disappointment. When Beshek or the Burning Maiden appeared, she had intervened only when there was no other option.

And right now, Pallor didn’t represent an insurmountable crisis for Isaac.

“Still, this is troublesome. How do I break through this frost barrier and deal with Pallor?”

Pallor’s power was simple but devastating: a cold so intense it froze even time.

Within her domain, molecules ceased to move. Nothing could vibrate, and no heat could transfer. The space became a static void filled with the absolute chill of zero-point cold.

Pallor called it simply, in the terms of the Codex of Light.

Heat Death.

The cosmic end where all energy dissipates, and no further change can occur.

“Of course, it’s far from an actual heat death or true absolute zero, but…”

The difficulty of breaching it was no less daunting. The only flaw was that Pallor, with her immense barrier ability, had little combat capability. However, reaching her was another matter. And she showed no intention of descending from the sky.

[Only immortals, those who live forever, can move and observe under the domain of heat death.]

Crack, crack. Pallor’s calm declaration accompanied the trembling of frost-covered Death Knights as they began to move. If her domain truly reached perfect heat death, they would not be able to move at all.

The mere fact that they could act indicated that the domain was incomplete.

But even this imperfect cold was more than enough to kill humans.

The Death Knights, under Pallor’s control, formed a tight encirclement as they advanced on the hymn-chanting Issacrea Knight Order. If the ongoing battle reduced their numbers further, the heat death domain would expand.

More would die, and the ranks of the undead would swell.

There was only one solution.

“Isaac!”

Boom! Ignoring Gebel’s urgent cry, Isaac activated the Lighthouse of the Watcher and leapt into the heart of the heat death domain. Radiant light surrounded his head like a halo, pushing back the "irrational" cold of the domain. As he charged forward, he swiftly cut down three or four Death Knights. Even they seemed to have their joints frozen, their movements sluggish in the cold.

[Stop him.]

Watching Isaac’s approach, Pallor issued a calm command.

Thud, thud, thud! The Death Knights surged toward Isaac en masse.

Isaac’s greatest challenge lay in this type of enemy. Cutting down a strong foe skilled in swordsmanship was straightforward, but being overwhelmed by sheer mass was far harder to counter. And these were undead—they wouldn’t die even when cut down.

At their center was Linde—or rather, Winterfang.

Linde’s headless body had been entirely overtaken by Winterfang. It twisted grotesquely, using the other Death Knights as extensions of itself to attack Isaac.

While Isaac had defeated Winterfang once before, there was no guarantee he could do so again. And now, the tide of Pallor’s domain surged like waves around him.

Hiss… As Isaac cut through one Death Knight, shards of ice scratched his cheek. The radiant heat of the Lighthouse instantly melted and vaporized the ice, but the clash between the miracle and the angel’s power took a toll on him. Simultaneously, he had to fend off the Death Knights’ relentless blades.

[Have you come to die, Holy Grail Knight?]

Winterfang sneered mockingly.

It might have seemed that way. Pallor was still far away, and Isaac was now too distant from the Issacrea Knight Order to count on their aid. Perhaps someone might have been desperately trying to save him, but Isaac judged this choice as the best course of action.

The moment he decided he was far enough from the knight order, Isaac deactivated the Lighthouse of the Watcher.

The radiant glow receded, and the frigid cold instantly enveloped him. Frost began to form on his armor, spreading rapidly.

In its place, Isaac invoked a different miracle—one suited not to order but to chaos.

A black shroud descended around him, cutting him off from the world.

***

As the color emanated outward, centered on Isaac, the undead experienced an unprecedented darkness.

Though undead had excellent night vision, their sight was no better than humans when it came to obstacles like dense fog or heavy rain. For a moment, they were blinded within the overwhelming torrent of color.

Swish! Clang! Crack! At the same time, Isaac darted forward, cutting down the undead still faintly visible to him. Pallor’s cold could no longer stop him.

Heat naturally flows from warmer to cooler areas. Pallor’s chill drained heat from matter at an alarming rate. This near-absolute zero cold was so destructive that humans and objects alike would shatter before even reaching its center.

However, Isaac—and the dense, chaotic color exuded by the Hidden Rite’s shroud—resisted that rapid heat loss. The shroud acted like an insulating barrier enveloping him. It also created an impenetrable darkness so thick that even the undead were left blind.

“I need to move quickly.”

But Isaac couldn’t maintain this state for long. He was just as blind as the undead within the dense color. The suffocating atmosphere made breathing difficult, and even the faint warmth the color provided would eventually be leeched away by Pallor’s heat death domain.

This was a temporary defense—one with strict time limits.

Winterfang came to a similar realization.

Though it didn’t fully understand Isaac’s power, Winterfang assumed that Isaac’s vision was just as obscured. Confident in this belief, it commanded the Death Knights to attack.

[Kill the Holy Grail Knight!]

The Death Knights flailed blindly in the darkness, groping for Isaac. All they found, however, were the cold edges of his blade.

Slash! Crunch! Crack! Isaac sliced through the Death Knights with precision, advancing steadily. Winterfang initially dismissed this as luck or instinct, but as Isaac continued cutting through its forces with unerring accuracy, it began to realize otherwise.

“How?”

Could this strange color somehow not impede his vision?

Winterfang wanted to confirm this but couldn’t see Isaac either. All it could do was infer his position from the sounds of clashing metal and shattering bodies.

Reluctantly, Winterfang began to retreat.

Isaac noticed. Turning his attention to the fleeing Winterfang, he smirked. It couldn’t escape within this shroud. But Isaac had no intention of wasting more time.

He raised a hand, pointing toward the sound of retreating footsteps.

Crack.

[Kiiiiiieeeeek!]

Winterfang let out a distorted shriek, writhing in agony. Isaac approached, his pace measured. Linde’s body was ensnared by tentacles rising from the ground. Only now did Winterfang realize how Isaac had been tracking it and the Death Knights so accurately.

Countless tendrils, like fine cilia, extended across the ground, transmitting sensory information back to him.

The entire space was effectively Isaac’s tongue.

Just as a tongue could map the position of teeth in a dark mouth, Isaac could perfectly pinpoint Winterfang’s location without sight.

Keeping his gaze distant, Isaac raised Kaldwin high.

The blade’s energy, once aflame, now condensed into a dense, black radiance.

Since its first use against Atlan, Isaac had honed and refined this power, pushing it to the next level. While he was still far from mastering its full potential, he didn’t need that much strength now. All that mattered was destroying Winterfang.

With a swing that erased space itself, Kaldwin descended like a lightning strike upon Winterfang.

A cacophony of screams erupted.

Not one or two, but hundreds, thousands of voices shrieked in unison. The shockwave from Kaldwin’s collision with Winterfang pushed back even the dense, chaotic color surrounding them.

Isaac looked down at the point where his sword had struck and grinned.

“So, you’ve finally come down.”