Paladin of the Dead God

Chapter 55:

Naturally, Isaac decided not to travel to the Hendrake domain with Count Reinhardt.

Reinhardt had merely stopped by Seor with a few knights on his way to meet Isaac.

To capture the lord of Hendrake and extract what was owed, more thorough preparation was needed, meaning many swords and spears. Since Reinhardt’s route was closer to Hendrake, it was expected that their arrival times would be similar, or Reinhardt’s slightly earlier.

“That’s why I gave the horse as a gift. To ensure you’re not late.”

As Isaac explained to Hesabel, the knight who brought the horse had a troubled expression and offered an excuse:

“The lord’s intention was purely out of goodwill and admiration for the Holy Grail Knight…”

“Yeah, yeah. So, I’m supposed to ride this horse?”

The horse brought by the knight was a fine white steed that matched Isaac’s new armor in color. It seemed obedient enough to follow commands, but Isaac was not impressed.

“It seems more like a horse for a young noble than a warhorse.”

Given it was a gift, it appeared they chose a well-behaved and pretty one over a tough one. The presentation of a gift is crucial, after all.

Then, Isaac’s gaze shifted to a horse further back. It was a black horse ridden by the knight.

“That horse?”

It was a black steed, significantly larger and more rugged-looking than the white horse Reinhardt had gifted. It looked like a true warhorse.

At Isaac’s inquiry, the knight looked at him in surprise.

“That one? It’s quite difficult. It has a terrible temper, having thrown off several riders. It’s not that the horse adjusts to the rider, but rather the rider must adapt to the horse. I’m not doubting the Holy Grail Knight’s skills, but…”

“You’re worried I might get hurt and arrive late. Bring it here.”

Reluctantly, the knight brought the horse over. Although the white horse seemed of better lineage, it was suited more for pretty and elegant riding, not for Isaac, who needed to consider mounted combat.

The brought horse, true to its size, behaved wildly as if showing its temperament to the unfamiliar Isaac.

Or perhaps, it sensed something ominous about him.

Regardless of the reason, Isaac did not want to waste time taming the horse. As he reached out, the horse opened its mouth as if to bite him.

But at that moment, Isaac grabbed its muzzle.

A parasite from beyond quickly burrowed into the horse’s brainstem, dominating its brain. The horse twitched before becoming docile. Isaac checked the sensations of fear, excitement, and other feelings through the horse.

Isaac didn’t want to go this far with a speechless animal, but frankly, he wasn’t good at riding. The most he had ridden was a pony at a monastery.

“This way, at least, I can control it as I wish.”

It wasn’t complete domination but enough to induce pain or forcibly calm it, which was still useful. However, the knight, unaware of what had happened, was astonished.

“Amazing. You’ve turned that wild warhorse into a docile lamb…”

“Let’s consider this as the gift. Tell him I’m thankful for the good gift. Tell him I’ve exchanged the white horse for this one and that it’s okay to take it.”

At Isaac’s words, the knight joyfully said goodbye and left. Apparently, even the knight found the black horse’s temperament difficult to bear and was happy to leave it behind.

But to Isaac, it was now as docile as a lamb.

“Let’s depart.”

Isaac mounted the horse and instructed Hesabel. Since the sun was still up, Hesabel wore her hood deep enough to cover almost her entire face. Despite seemingly barely able to see, she moved well, indicating no issue.

Hesabel already had her own horse, so there was no need to find another for her.

Although they were riding, Isaac didn’t want to rush and arrive before Reinhardt, so he didn’t feel the need to hurry.

“Wouldn’t we then avoid crossing paths with Reinhardt?”

“If Reinhardt wants to solve this calmly and with justification rather than rushing into a siege, then it’s essential I be there. If Hendrake still acts arrogantly despite my presence, then it truly means he’s been influenced by sorcery.”

However, for Hesabel, who came from a land of conspiracy, disruption, and assassination, such actions seemed unfamiliar.

She tilted her head with an awkward expression.

“Hmm, I don’t quite understand. In our kingdom, we would have simply put a bounty of a thousand gold coins on the head of Lord Hendrake. It’s cheaper than deploying soldiers. Or we could bribe an insider to assassinate him, poison his food…”

Hesabel listed all sorts of underhanded tactics that could occur in the Kingdom of Wallachia. It seemed that concepts like face, justification, or honor didn’t matter much in her homeland.

Isaac might have fit in with that approach, but the White Empire had a stronger sense of maintaining appearances.

The fact that options like suing or appealing to the Red Chalice didn’t even come up indicated that in the Kingdom of Wallachia, one had to take responsibility for their own actions.

“We generally try to avoid outright war if possible. There’s always the risk of too much bloodshed.”

“Right. A misstep could lead to many casualties…”

“Yes. It’s a waste for so much precious blood to be spilled.”

Isaac momentarily thought the Kingdom of Wallachia had a deep respect for human life, before realizing he had completely misjudged the situation.

The nobility of Wallachia literally thrived by sucking the blood of their citizens.

Not metaphorically, but literally.

Initiating a war meant wiping out the crops they would otherwise harvest themselves.

“You are… never mind. Better not to say it.”

Deciding whether it’s better to bleed people dry through war or to suck their blood in peacetime was a difficult comparison. Isaac had seen an ending involving the Red Chalice Club’s faith in a game. According to its portrayal, the people of Wallachia weren’t treated like livestock.

Instead, since the nobility didn’t need food, the peasants could keep all the food they produced. The surplus food allowed the population to grow, leading to the development of industry and the arts. Conspiracies and conflicts were matters among the nobles.

If someone seemed useful, they would willingly share their blood and adopt them as their own, elevating them to nobility, so the social structure wasn’t rigid.

‘Of course, a few families would monopolize wealth forever.’

However, the nobility didn’t live exceptionally long lives.

In a country rife with conspiracy, disruption, and assassination, murder was the leading cause of noble deaths. But the hidden number one cause was disappearance.

For vampires who consume bodies, disposing of a corpse is not difficult. Especially if the deceased noble had valuable blood, they would fight over even a bone fragment, a strand of hair, or a drop of blood.

‘Which is better… I don’t want to say, but emotionally, the Codex of Light seems better.’

This, of course, was a modern perspective, and it was uncertain how people of this era would see it.

Someone conscripted to war or exploited by nobles might say Wallachia is better.

“By the way, you’re the heiress of the Gulmar family, right? A maiden? Almost a princess in rank, but are you allowed to wander like this?”

In Isaac’s memory, Hesabel was confined to her domain at the start of the game, heavily protected. It was puzzling why she had ventured out here.

Hesabel’s expression hardened before she finally spoke.

“Well, it’s because of the Red Chalice Club…”

The scream came from nowhere in particular, not aimed at Isaac or Hesabel, but it erupted from the direction they were heading towards.

***

With a loud crash, a log struck the ground with force.

The log, as thick as a thigh, scattered dirt and stone fragments around. People in heavy armor tried to scramble away, but it seemed not an easy feat.

‘Knights?’

Isaac scrutinized the group being attacked by the log.

“Damn it, fire! Where are the fire arrows? Go shoot them!”

“Use torches to burn it!”

Another log flew in, indicating the situation was not favorable for the knights. The area, a sloping valley with signs of logging, was filled with chopped trees.

Above all, their assailant was a troll, towering at 3 meters with pale, rock-like skin.

‘A troll this close to human settlements?’

In the White Empire, encountering a troll required venturing deep into the mountains, as their natural predators were the priests of the Codex of Light.

The troll, though wounded, was quickly healing thanks to its regenerative abilities. The knights’ calls for fire arrows and torches seemed futile amid combat.

‘If there were a priest with flame blessings or one who could apply heat, this would be easy. But their absence suggests no priest is among them.’

At a glance, they were not part of a Holy Knight order. Nor did they seem like Imperial Knights, more like local lord’s knights.

“Should we help?”

As Isaac observed, Hesabel inquired.

With her intervention, it would be simple. Hesabel, capable of wielding the miracles of the Red Chalice, could counter the troll’s regeneration.

Having assessed the situation, Isaac made his decision.

“They could be knights of Count Reinhardt. I’ll handle it.”

Isaac spurred his horse forward. The sudden approach drew the knights’ attention. Brandishing the Sword of Judgment, Isaac charged at the troll.

“Uwooooo!”

The troll hurled a massive log at Isaac, who had no path to evade. A direct hit seemed imminent.

Isaac gripped the reins tightly.

In that moment, the horse nimbly dodged, leaping sideways. The log crashed into another tree, shattering. The knights were astonished by the seemingly miraculous riding skill.

‘I thought about something like a drift… the horse is more cooperative than expected.’

Perhaps because his will was fully transmitted to the horse. Regardless, they charged again at the troll, which, surprised by Isaac’s evasion, swung the log instead of throwing it.

Whoosh! The attack aimed at Isaac forced him to dismount. The horse quickly moved away as instructed upon Isaac’s landing.

Now it was Isaac’s turn.

He dived into the troll’s reach, slashing upwards with the Sword of Judgment.

Screeeeech! The unholy creature’s chest was marked with a large wound, burned by the holy fire. Though aiming for the neck was ideal, the troll’s height made it unreachable. However, the troll, which had been regenerating from the knights’ attacks, screamed in terror.

“Assist the Holy Knight!”

The knights, realizing the situation, hurriedly shouted. Surrounded, the troll had no chance of escape. It swung the log, trying to maintain distance.

Frustrated by the troll’s defense, Isaac pondered the strength of his new armor. The nearby broken logs, seemingly weak pine, caught his attention.

Isaac closely watched the trajectory of the log and stepped forward.

Crash! The ground buckled under Isaac as he was pushed back, but it was the log that shattered, not him. Wood chips flew in all directions.

‘As expected, nothing but a bit stiff.’

The Paladin’s armor, armed with protective miracles, was robust enough to be considered a weapon.

‘Had it been swung upwards, the lack of weight might have sent me rolling…’

Though not dangerous, it would have been an embarrassing sight.

The troll, left holding only a piece of the log, appeared stunned. It bent down to grab another log when it felt intense heat pierce its neck. Isaac had waited for this moment to strike.

The intense heat burned the troll’s neck as hot as its blood.

“Phew…”

After regaining his breath from the battle, Isaac was approached by a knight. With an excited, perhaps even love-struck face, the knight exclaimed.

“That was incredible, Paladin! Which Paladin order do you belong to? I wish to know your name!”

“Who are you?”

Realizing his rudeness, the knight hastily pounded his chest and announced.

“I am Owen Renly, vice-captain of the Hendrake Knight Order! We were on a mission directed by Lord Kyle Hendrake!”

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