Paladin of the Dead God-Chapter 393: The Monster Wearing a Mask (5)

"Because of Isaac, the Dawn Army will fail."

At those words, Ciero flinched, gripping his teacup tightly.

Had he been an ordinary priest, he might have scoffed at such nonsense.

How could the Holy Grail Knight, who had achieved more than anyone else, be the reason for their failure? He would have dismissed it as jealous ramblings from an unremarkable commander of the Imperial Knights.

But Ciero knew better.

He knew that Isaac was not the "pious Holy Grail Knight" that others believed him to be. He had also witnessed Isaac perform inexplicable miracles, the kind that defied explanation.

Because of this, Ciero couldn’t dismiss Feltrein’s provocative claim so easily.

Feltrein, head of the Imperial Knights’ intelligence network, didn’t miss Ciero’s reaction.

He realized that Ciero knew something about Isaac — likely a secret even Feltrein hadn’t uncovered.

"You’re acquainted with the Holy Grail Knight, aren’t you?"

"Ah, well… only briefly…"

Ciero stammered, but Feltrein was now certain.

Ciero knew something about Isaac, something deeply hidden.

Clearing his throat, Ciero tried to steer the conversation.

"But why would the Holy Grail Knight cause the Dawn Army to fail? I’ve heard that he crossed the Nightmare Strait and even subdued the Salt Desert. Isn’t he more likely to reclaim the Holy Land of Lua than the main Dawn Army?"

"Precisely," Feltrein replied with a smile.

"The Archangels’ proxies have staked everything on the success of this campaign. But do you think it’s purely to fulfill the will of God?"

"Well, of course…"

"No. Whether highborn or low, humans are the same. They strive to be more recognized, more beloved, more successful. Right now, the leadership of the Codex of Light has thrown themselves completely into the Dawn Army. But imagine their reaction when some nobody suddenly shows up and steals all the glory. Wouldn’t they lose their minds?"

"Then… what would they do?" Ciero asked nervously.

Surely the Codex of Light wouldn’t turn on Isaac?

"It’s simple. The main Dawn Army only needs to fail. Or even pretend to retreat. What do you think would happen then?"

Ciero was puzzled.

Would Isaac fail just because the Dawn Army did? Isaac had already achieved what no one thought possible by crossing the Nightmare Strait and the Salt Desert. The Immortal Order’s forces barely opposed him.

Then, the realization struck him.

"The Immortal Order’s main force! Are you saying that with the pressure gone, the Eclipse Legion of Urdantu Empire would withdraw to reinforce the Holy Land of Lua?"

Feltrein smirked. At least Ciero wasn’t entirely clueless.

"Now you’re catching on. Yes. Right now, the threat from the main Dawn Army keeps the Eclipse Legion defending Capital Ushak. But if that pressure eases, they’ll redeploy to the Holy Land of Lua in force." fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm

If the frontlines faltered even briefly, Isaac could end up facing the Immortal Order’s elite troops.

Of course, if Isaac somehow defeated the newly deployed Eclipse Legion, it would be a feat worthy of a demigod.

Though part of Ciero believed Isaac capable of such a miracle, it was little more than blind faith.

"But surely the Lighthouse Keeper wouldn’t allow such a situation to occur…"

"Do you think sabotage requires permission? Ineptitude needs no justification. Whatever grand plan the gods might have, I’m convinced the Dawn Army is poised to fail."

Feltrein chuckled as if imagining the leadership of the Codex of Light throwing tantrums like spoiled children demanding attention.

"It’s amusing, isn’t it? That the Millennium Kingdom’s descent is being thwarted not by the Immortal Order but by human envy and jealousy."

To Ciero, it wasn’t amusing at all.

If Feltrein’s prediction came true, the Dawn Army would suffer catastrophic losses for no gain, leaving countless Armyes for the Immortal Order to claim. Isaac, isolated in the southern lands, might die alone.

Ciero, who had once promised to do everything in his power to minimize the sacrifice, felt a wave of despair creeping over him.

"Regardless, the Dawn Army is doomed. What I’m thinking about is what comes next. When the campaign fails, someone will have to take responsibility. And the first to be dragged out will be the figurehead — Dera Heman."

Feltrein touched his lips thoughtfully, a faint smile on his face.

"I want to be the one to bring Dera Heman to justice. Cleaning up after a defeat will be a grueling task, but it’s also an opportunity to seize power."

Feltrein pointed at Ciero.

"That’s where I’ll need your cooperation, Priest Ciero. Together, we can criticize the incompetence of the leadership, oust the defeated priests and Paladins, and fill the void with our people."

"Is… is that even possible?"

"It is."

Feltrein’s eyes gleamed with a crimson light.

"By then, Emperor Waltzemer will have returned to overthrow the empire."

The seeds of rebellion Feltrein had planted within the empire were already beginning to sprout.

Feltrein had carried out purges, yet he spared certain "selected" rebels.

Among them were factions like the Brant Family, carefully preserved to serve Emperor Waltzemer’s eventual return to power.

Ciero found it difficult to breathe as he listened to Feltrein’s audacious plans.

The man spoke casually about dismantling the Codex of Light and overthrowing the empire — and he was asking Ciero to stand by his side while doing it.

Feltrein declared his intent to topple the entire system and rise above its ruins, prompting Ciero to cautiously ask:

"Aren’t you a devout follower of the Codex of Light? By denying the Millennium Kingdom, what is it that you really want?"

"I want an age of humanity," Feltrein said with a scoffing laugh.

"‘The heavens for the gods, the earth for humen.’ That’s my creed. This land isn’t meant for angels and gods; it belongs to heroes and kings."

His response was unwavering, almost rehearsed.

Ciero searched for alternatives in his mind. But he knew the moment Feltrein sought him out, there were no other options left. If he refused, there was no guarantee he’d live to see another sunrise.

Still, instead of outright agreeing, Ciero asked a more pointed question.

"In the end, doesn’t this mean you intend to let the Holy Grail Knight die?"

If Feltrein’s plan succeeded, the Dawn Army would fail, and the Millennium Kingdom would not descend.

That failure would almost certainly lead to Isaac’s death.

Feltrein idly touched his lips before answering.

"It doesn’t have to mean his death."

"What do you mean by that?"

"It’s simple," Feltrein said, his smirk widening.

This was the true heart of his plan, a more decisive course of action.

"We bring the Holy Grail Knight to our side. There’s no need for a hero to die because of the foolishness of the Codex of Light."

Ciero closed his eyes for a moment.

How could he convey this situation to Isaac, far away in the southern lands?

If the Dawn Army was truly doomed to fail and the Codex of Light was as selfish as Feltrein claimed, the only way to help Isaac might indeed be to cooperate with Feltrein.

Ciero just needed one last confirmation — a guarantee of safety.

"Commander Feltrein, I trust your words… but how can you defy the Codex and still survive?"

"Don’t worry about that," Feltrein said, nonchalant.

"I’m protected by the master of all conspiracies and deceit."

***

The Labyrinthine Canyon was the result of an ancient, cataclysmic flood that had swept through the land.

The flood had carved through a patchwork of solid and soft earth, leaving behind a maze of deep valleys and intricate rock formations when the waters finally receded.

Had the waters continued flowing, they might have merged into rivers over time.

But as the region became a desert and the Immortal Order rose to power, the waters dried up completely, leaving the canyon a bewildering maze from which few emerged alive.

"Impressive, but irrelevant," Isaac thought as he gazed down at the canyon.

His confidence didn’t stem from an intimate knowledge of the labyrinth, but from his familiars, which scouted the maze from above.

They were already hunting throughout the canyon, preying on the stray, weakened monsters that wandered into the wrong crevices.

But Isaac wasn’t interested in those dying creatures. His gaze was fixed on something far more significant.

His eyes glinted as he focused his consciousness through Zihilrat, whose forehead sprouted a new eye that belonged to Isaac.

"Found it."

Nestled within a crack in the canyon wall was a cluster of strange, fleshy folds, writhing like a mass of parasitic tissue.

What might look like an odd geological phenomenon to others was immediately recognizable to Isaac for what it was:

One of the canyon’s deadliest threats.

"Everyone, converge on that location. This must be dealt with before the Issacrea Army arrives."

While Isaac justified this as eliminating a threat to his soldiers, it was clear this creature would make for a highly desirable target for Predation.

Originally intended as a sacred offering to break the Salt Desert, the entity was brimming with holy power.

As Isaac made his way toward Zihilrat’s location, a sharp sound sliced through the air near his ear.

"Tch."

Letting out an annoyed sigh, Isaac unsheathed Kaldwin.

He had entrusted the Luadin Key to one of his split selves, leaving him without access to its powers for now.

The moment he drew his blade, something heavy struck it with a dull clang.

[Krrrrkkk!]

A piercing psychic resonance emanated from the attack — the unmistakable signature of an undead.

What confronted Isaac was a grotesque fusion of human bones and bird wings, a makeshift avian undead.

These creatures, wielding enormous scythes or spears, flapped their featherless wings as they circled Isaac like vultures.

"I was wondering when you’d show up."

These undead, known as the Angels of Death, served as guardians of the canyon.

Their unholy name was given by none other than Pallor, and no one dared dispute it.

Hiding in the canyon’s crevices, these creatures ambushed unlucky travelers, silently descending to decapitate them.

While they could pose a serious threat as a unit like Death Knights, their poorly fused human and avian souls made them incredibly dim-witted.

[Krrrrkkk!]

Isaac’s blade cleaved through one of the Angels of Death with ease, splitting it in two.

Yet the others seemed unfazed, circling him like ravenous crows, their screeches echoing through the canyon.

They appeared torn, caught between their primal fear of the Crawling Horror mask Isaac wore and their directive to prevent intruders from entering deeper into the canyon.

Narrowing his eyes, Isaac kept his focus.

"Master, do you require assistance?"

The voice of Hectali echoed from somewhere unseen, but Isaac dismissed the offer with a scoff.

Instead, he cupped his hand, summoning the Color Beyond.

In one swift motion, he released it into the air.

The colors erupted like a cloud, enveloping the Angels of Death.

For a moment, they flapped their wings furiously, thinking it was harmless smoke.

But they failed to realize what lurked within the vibrant mist.

Tentacles emerged from the Color Beyond, lashing out to seize the undead creatures.

The tendrils crushed their spines, wings, and skulls with brutal efficiency, dragging them into the abyss of colors.

Some of the Angels of Death managed to escape the tentacles’ grasp, but Isaac swiftly grabbed one of them mid-air.

Activating Predation, he unleashed the Black Communion.

[The Black Communion is activated.]

The tentacles writhed with fervent devotion as they consumed the creature, their act of feasting spreading terror among the remaining undead.

The rudimentary intelligence of the Angels of Death worked against them.

Like animals paralyzed by sudden fear, they froze mid-flight, their wings folding as they plummeted to the canyon floor.

Isaac watched dispassionately as their brittle bodies shattered upon impact.

"The effect seems stronger than before. Not bad as an area fear tactic. The only downside is needing to show the tentacles feasting..."

His familiars, however, seemed thoroughly impressed, expressing their admiration and delight.

But their celebration was cut short by an urgent message from Zihilrat.

"The canyon… it’s starting to move."