Paladin of the Dead God-Chapter 387: The Breakwater Against Chaos (6)

It seemed like an attack against nothing, but a hollow thud resounded as if he had struck something solid. At the same time, part of the flock exploded in midair.

Shards of frost and ice fragments scattered like shrapnel from a bomb.

“Don’t attack the birds recklessly! They explode in front of you!”

Tuhalin urgently warned the other soldiers.

Pallor had condensed her power into the flock of birds, planning to make them all explode at once. It was a strategy akin to cutting away parts of herself to attack, but it was also a method that could inflict massive damage on the Dawn Army of Issacrea.

[How dare you!]

With a furious roar, Pallor unleashed her power. Fallen undead soldiers and Death Knights, which had been lying motionless, staggered to their feet once more.

The ice sheet Pallor had created on the slope still remained. The main force of the Issacrea Dawn Army had yet to overcome it, and most of their troops remained stuck at the bottom of the hill. Pallor aimed to isolate Isaac and his allies to annihilate them before the main force could climb up.

[I will kill you, Isaac! No matter what it takes!]

“I’m not fond of obsessive types.”

Isaac retorted bluntly as he switched out Kaldwin for the Luadin Key. Considering Pallor’s power of cold, the intense heat of the Luadin Key would be far more effective.

Tuhalin stood beside him.

Isaac glanced at him and asked, half-curious, “By chance, has the Thunder Artisan descended?”

“No.”

Tuhalin grinned as he replied.

“Not much of a crisis, I suppose.”

Though he spoke softly, it was loud enough for Pallor to hear.

Gone was the need for curses or provocation. Only silent, cold fury remained, taking shape and plunging straight toward Isaac and Tuhalin.

A blizzard of steel surged toward them in an instant.

Dudududududu!

The downpour of bone birds was like a waterfall crashing down. Since it was impossible to block them all, the two men split in opposite directions. With the flock dispersed, Tuhalin calmly started striking down the oncoming bone birds one by one.

Thud! Clang!

Every strike from his hammer was accompanied by a heavy impact sound. Bone fragments scattered with every hit, and bolts of lightning flashed, burning multiple bone birds to ash as they plummeted. The resulting shards and frost swept over Tuhalin, and his whole body was soon covered in frost.

But then, something incredible happened.

The surface of Tuhalin’s skin began to glow a deep crimson. Steam rose from his entire body, as if his skin were being heated from within. It was as if molten metal, not blood, flowed through his veins.

Even the cold of the weakened Pallor could not penetrate the divine protection that enveloped his body. Shards of bone scratched and stabbed at his flesh, but the wounds instantly closed, as if molten metal was welding them shut.

“OOOOOOOHHH!!”

Tuhalin let out a thunderous roar, his entire body engulfed in a furnace-like heat.

Tuhalin was known as the Thunder Hammer, a leader among the Artisans of the Forge.

Even without divine descent, he was one of the greatest warriors and craftsmen in existence.

***

Pallor tried to concentrate her power on Isaac instead, but that situation was even more baffling.

Isaac faced the incoming birds and summoned the Lion of his Inner Self. The golden-maned lion stood tall, lifting its head high even in the presence of heavenly authority.

Mimicking Dera Heman’s Golden Lion Stance to perfection, Isaac readjusted his grip on the Luadin Key and unleashed a powerful slash.

Bzzzt! Crackle!

The moment the slash was made, Pallor saw her bone birds plummeting without even touching Isaac. Her eyes went wide with disbelief.

She hadn’t even seen the swing of Isaac’s sword. She had only felt the burning heat radiating from the Luadin Key.

Even worse, when the flock of birds shattered, there was supposed to be an explosion of cold energy. But instead, only a faint white mist drifted into the air behind Isaac.

‘Is... is divine power being nullified?’

Her gaze locked on Isaac’s sword, and she finally realized what was happening.

Isaac’s sword wasn’t just cutting down the birds. It was dismantling the divine energy and soul force infused within them, all at once.

It was as if a hawk were snatching sparrows mid-flight.

Isaac’s ferocious, predatory sword aura combined with the Luadin Key’s power made it look like a massive claw was ripping apart the essence of Pallor herself.

Each swing of Isaac’s sword was like a savage tear at Pallor’s body. It wasn’t just her birds that were being torn apart.

With every swing, Pallor felt chunks of herself being ripped away.

The agony sank into her mind like poison. It was a pain she had not felt in ages.

Pallor desperately tried to push that feeling aside, scouring the battlefield for any variable she could exploit.

[Death Knights! What are you doing?! Move! Right now!]

Pallor tried to use the undead soldiers to hold back Isaac and Tuhalin.

However, the reborn undead soldiers and Death Knights were being overpowered by the Lycanthrope Warriors and Knights of Elil. From the moment the fortress walls were breached, the fate of the undead—poorly equipped and few in number—had been sealed.

While Pallor searched for variables among the hopeless soldiers, Isaac and Tuhalin pressed her, chipping away at her bit by bit.

Her mounting fury soon gave way to disorientation.

‘Am I… losing? Again?’

Her first defeat could be excused as overconfidence.

But this time?

She had prepared strategies in advance, fought with the fortress wall as her shield, and still faced total defeat. It was an indisputable loss.

The schemes she had devised to divide the Dawn Army of Issacrea had backfired. The Winter Maw she had deployed to cause confusion had, instead, united them. The natural fortress she had believed to be an impregnable stronghold crumbled with humiliating ease.

‘I miscalculated my strategy.’

Although Pallor had been dispatched in haste due to the unexpectedly sharp offensive of the Dawn Army, the majority of the Immortal Order’s forces remained focused on the northern front.

While the Order prepared for a decisive clash with the Codex of Light, Pallor had no choice but to defend with limited resources. The ideal strategy would have been to inflict continuous damage on the Dawn Army while stalling for time, slowly absorbing their forces into the ranks of the Immortal Order.

That was the most traditional—and most effective—tactic for the Immortal Order.

But she had grown complacent when the division tactics seemed to be working. Worse, her greed for Isaac as a “material” led to an irrational mistake.

‘No, from the very beginning...’

Pallor’s eyes locked onto Isaac.

Isaac’s strategy was the complete opposite of hers.

He displayed an almost obsessive avoidance of troop losses. He threw himself into the most dangerous positions first, and even the Armyes of ordinary soldiers were not carelessly discarded.

From a commander’s perspective, it was a disqualifying approach. But that very approach nullified the Immortal Order’s strategy.

Kwa-rrrrrumble!

A bolt of lightning struck in front of Pallor, snapping her mind back to focus.

Looking up, she saw Nel, the translucent dragon, hovering in the sky, her jaws brimming with concentrated lightning.

The next moment, Tuhalin’s thunderbolt, pulled from the ground, fused with the one Nel unleashed from the heavens, and both struck Pallor’s entire body.

[─────!!]

Her mental scream reverberated through the minds of everyone present.

Even the Paladins staggered, clutching their heads. For the undead, the effect was far more severe. Countless undead soldiers crumpled to the ground, their bodies disintegrating. Some of their souls even momentarily slipped out of their bodies. Pallor’s cry carried such immense psychic force that it dealt a catastrophic blow to the undead.

Annihilation.

For the first time, Pallor glimpsed the possibility of her own destruction.

The long-forgotten fear of death surged back into her.

The reason the Immortal Order could claim eternal life was because it was exceedingly difficult to annihilate their souls.

Their bodies could be discarded and replaced with new ones. They could detach their souls from their flesh at will. But the soul—there were no "new" souls, and no means of "repairing" them.

Annihilation wasn’t anything grand.

It was simply a slow process of wearing down, fraying, and tearing apart, until one’s sense of self dissolved into spiritual dust.

That was the annihilation of the soul.

And in Isaac’s attacks, Pallor could feel the impact on her very soul.

Her soul was being shattered piece by piece.

This was no ordinary power.

It was something more terrifying—an emanation from the depths of Isaac’s mind, drawn from his inner chaos and boundless potential.

Pallor met Isaac’s eyes.

Beyond him, she saw it. A vast realm of chaos and emptiness lurking behind him.

The next moment, Pallor’s form shattered. Her body splintered like scattered shards of glass and flew in all directions.

Seeing the sudden thinning of the flock of bone birds, Isaac and Tuhalin were momentarily puzzled.

They assumed Pallor had shifted to a new attack pattern.

But they were wrong.

“That bastard’s running away!”

Tuhalin roared with fury.

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He shot off another bolt of lightning, managing to hit several birds, but it was impossible to track down and strike every one of them as they scattered in all directions.

Isaac felt a pang of regret as he realized Pallor had once again escaped from right under his nose.

But in the next moment, darkness blanketed the sky.

***

The darkness was heavy.

There were no stars, and while it felt as though the space was filled with something, nothing could be touched.

But Pallor sensed it.

She understood who this presence was—the master of all that exists now and all that is yet to come.

The Immortal Emperor Beshek was watching her.

He had seen her flawed strategy. Her disgraceful defeat. Her pathetic escape. He had witnessed it all.

Pallor spoke calmly, appealing to him.

[“Your Majesty once said that fear of death and the anguish of unfulfilled desire are the very foundation of the Immortal Order!”]

Pallor believed she still had a chance.

The Immortal Emperor was a merciful being. He granted opportunities to all creatures. No matter how heinous a criminal, he allowed them time for repentance and reflection.

Yes, this humiliating defeat was shameful, but what was a moment of shame compared to the eternal time he had promised?

[“Through this defeat, I have grown wiser and stronger! Please, grant me your mercy and allow me to face them once more!”]

The darkness twisted.

Pallor felt it. Beshek was smiling.

A massive hand cradled a small bird, lightly stroking its feathers.

[“Yes, you’re right.”]

Beshek’s tone was gentle.

But then, in a voice tinged with deep sorrow, he whispered:

[“But there are no second chances.”]

In an instant, Pallor was struck with a thunderous realization.

No, it wasn’t her own realization. It was as if someone had forced the knowledge into her mind.

The Immortal Emperor’s “mercy” had already ended the moment she fled from Isaac the first time.

But to flee twice from the same man?

Such an act would strip the Immortal Order, and all its associated faiths and divine authorities, of their fearsome reputation. That disgrace would be a far greater loss for the Order than her death.

It was better for Pallor to die here and now.

If she died, she wouldn’t be known as a coward who ran away twice.

Instead, she would be remembered as one who died to "a chosen warrior of the gods."

It was the same logic as a soldier boasting of being injured by a tiger, not a rat.

Pallor now understood she had been made into a scapegoat.

But it was already too late.

Beshek’s massive hand gently pressed against her face, covering her eyes.