Paladin of the Dead God-Chapter 67:

Chapter 67. The Prophet of the Red Flesh (3)

Will you oppose the angel at the risk of your life, or will you simply pass on the free subordinate and easily claim victory?

‘To leave a part of one’s power must mean to leave a piece of flesh.’

With that, it was possible to succeed in the quest proposed by the nameless chaos. Moreover, this was not a bad proposal for Hesabel either. Only the prophet of the red flesh would taste humiliation and loss, but she surely did not want to engage in reckless gambling.

A simple negotiation would result in a win-win.

Isaac pretended to ponder for a moment before smiling.

“Shall we swear upon our faith?”

Raela also smiled twistedly.

“Good. I will show you something that can serve as a token.”

Raela’s mouth opened, revealing a piece of red flesh. A sweet scent wafted towards Isaac, even from some distance away.

Raela picked it up with her fingers and said,

“Take this. It is a part of my body, flesh containing the blood of the red chalice.”

Isaac lowered his sword and slowly approached Raela. Raela remained still, her hand on Hesabel’s head. The moment Isaac reached out to pick up the piece of red flesh from Raela’s hand, Raela’s body moved as if it had been waiting.

Pffft! The flesh burst, spraying blood all over Isaac.

Covered in blood, Isaac felt a sting as if he had been bitten by a bee and was flung backward. He inspected the area where the blood had splattered on him. Blisters swelled up as if poisoned but quickly subsided.

It must have been a dreadful poison. An ordinary person’s skin could burst and melt away in an instant from such a toxin.

But to Isaac, it was just a slight sting.

“Huh… How, how did you?”

The problem, rather, was Raela.

She glared at Isaac with her face split from chin to forehead. Her pronunciation was odd due to her tongue being split in two.

Isaac watched the blood on Raela’s sword burn away and said,

“Didn’t trust each other after all? What now?”

The moment Raela burst her blood, Isaac also swung his sword with his left hand as if he had been waiting.

The sword, entangled with tentacles, moved in an entirely unexpected angle, slicing Raela’s face. He had intended to cut her body in two, but this was the best he could manage.

[How are you still standing after being covered in that blood!]

A booming voice erupted, not from Raela but from the prophet of the red flesh.

“Inside my body flows something no less toxic than your blood.”

The blood Raela had spread contained the poison of the red chalice, a divine miracle.

However, Isaac had devoured the plague god, Zihilrat. If it was about resistance to divinity, especially to plague, he had plenty. Moreover, having devoured an abundance of abominations and possessing regenerative abilities, it was natural that Raela’s poison didn’t affect him.

Isaac had no intention of chatting with Raela for long. He immediately kicked off the rampart and ran out.

***

Raela flailed her body irritably and swung her arm. A long wound appeared on her arm, and blood sprayed out.

It seemed like she was making the same attack, but what emerged from the scattered blood was a massive barrier of thorns. It wasn’t just a barrier for blocking; it aggressively grew towards Isaac, aiming to stab him.

[Dare you, a human, oppose an angel!]

‘As if you’re not even the main body.’

Isaac wanted to scoff at the red thorns brushing past his face, but honestly, it was not easy.

Rotten or not, a strategist like the prophet of the red flesh was still an angel.

With Isaac in his current state, winning was almost impossible unless the right conditions were met.

Shrriiiikk!

Following Raela’s right arm, her left arm also tore, spilling blood generously over the rampart. The thorn barrier now entangled the rampart like a bush, ceaselessly rushing towards Isaac. Instead of rushing in recklessly, Isaac calmly struck down the thorns while waiting for an opportunity.

[Surely that’s not all the strength you have!]

The Prophet of the Red Flesh screamed and drove Isaac with a thicket of red thorns. She knew that Isaac was hiding something.

That mysterious power had defeated Hesabel and the enhanced Owen.

Convinced that she could also meet the same fate, the Prophet of the Red Flesh did not let her guard down and attacked with utmost caution.

Unless Isaac revealed his true power, she had no intention of using all her strength.

But she was starting to feel anxious.

The sky was brightening. The sunrise was delayed due to the mountains, but the sun would soon rise.

The night belonged to the Red Chalice, but the day belonged to the Codex of Light.

[If you’re not going to use all your strength, I’ll crush you right there!]

Crack! The thorn bush, rooted firmly on the rampart, suddenly swelled up. A massive thorn spear, more like a battering ram than a spike, surged towards Isaac.

Realizing he had no choice, Isaac’s left hand moved strangely.

Tentacles sprouted from his hand, entangling and tearing at the thorn spear while he swung his sword.

Isaac’s swordsmanship: The Red Thorn’s wounds, torn by Eight Branches, allowed Isaac’s tentacles to burrow in instantly, splitting the massive thorn spear along its grain. Bursting tentacles scattered in a blood-red spray over Isaac.

The Prophet of the Red Flesh shivered at the sight.

[That’s it! That was it! Your true nature is…!]

Groaning in pain, she expressed her disgust and anger towards Isaac.

Now everything made sense.

The submission of Hesabel, Owen’s defeat, and the fact that Isaac, despite being a Grail Knight, never once used the miracles of the Codex of Light.

[Was there still an unrotted corpse left!]

Isaac could not understand her incomprehensible emotions, nor did he want to. The Prophet of the Red Flesh focused all her attention on him, spreading her shoulders.

Now that Isaac had revealed his nature, it was her turn to exert all her power.

[I didn’t know among those with heads there was one who carried that seed! And to think that seed was hiding under the lighthouse keeper?]

Instead of engaging in conversation, Isaac approached Raela. The Prophet of the Red Flesh gathered her power, watching Isaac’s tentacles closely. But Isaac didn’t use them. Instead, he retracted the tentacles back into his body.

He raised his sword high.

Seeing him not use the tentacles as if choosing to confront her without them, the Prophet of the Red Flesh was momentarily lost for words.

[What? What the…?]

At that moment, she felt a piercing pain in her eyes. The morning sun had risen.

With the pain as if being burned, she frowned but did not make the foolish mistake of losing focus on Isaac. Instead, she pretended to be caught off guard and closed her eyes.

As expected, Isaac charged with the morning sunlight.

The Prophet of the Red Flesh, in turn, raised spikes from the blood spilled on the rampart. She scoffed at Isaac’s rash movement. Did you think I wouldn’t know you were waiting for the morning sun? Even if the sun rose, someone like you…

But why did he retract the tentacles?

The moment the Prophet of the Red Flesh wondered this, she realized her spikes couldn’t penetrate Isaac’s armor, bending or bouncing off instead.

‘What?’

The Prophet of the Red Flesh was astonished at the sight and then belatedly heard some voices.

“Look there! It’s the Grail Knight!”

Due to her focus on Isaac, she hadn’t noticed the area still hidden in the shadow of the valley below Hendrake Castle.

There, Count Reinhardt and his soldiers were standing by, watching as Isaac had instructed them earlier.

The Prophet of the Red Flesh felt her powers weaken amidst those countless gazes.

The Red Chalice encouraged conspiracy, seduction, and assassination. Naturally, her powers were strongest in darkness and secrecy. The revealing light weakened all her powers.

Exposed in this bright dawn and the gaze of many witnesses, she could not exert even half of her original strength.

The Prophet of the Red Flesh desperately unleashed her thorns in a final struggle. But Isaac’s body moved in a peculiar way.

After absorbing the abomination, Isaac had learned a new technique, the advanced swordsmanship that Owen had used.

Isaac’s body moved in two directions at once. The thorns pierced one, but the other was unstoppable.

The blade flashed in the sunlight.

Thunk.

Before Raela could react, the sword blade swiftly sliced through her neck. The Prophet of the Red Flesh realized her neck was severed even before the blade made contact.

A burning pain was felt.

With his eerie purple eyes, Isaac looked at Raela and spoke, his voice carrying the scent of blood.

“Shall we see who really ends up crushed like a mosquito?”

***

Raela staggered and leaned against the rampart. In that moment, her head tilted and rolled off her shoulders, tumbling down the wall. Her neck made a hollow sound as it followed.

The soldiers of Reinhardt, waiting below the rampart, fell silent at the sudden turn of events. However, they soon realized everything upon seeing Raela’s head rolling to their feet, the Hendrake Castle entangled in red thorns, and Isaac standing victoriously atop the rampart.

“Woah! The Grail Knight! The Grail Knight!”

“Sir Isaac, the Grail Knight, has slain the witch!”

Before the soldiers, an old legend had come to life.

A corrupt lord, an evil witch, and the Grail Knight who emerged to mete out justice.

Of course, there was no evidence of the lord’s corruption or Raela being a witch, but they had deeply recognized Hendrake Castle as an enemy, especially after Owen’s commanded knightly assault.

Thus, Isaac, who subdued the castle single-handedly, was the epitome of a legendary hero.

“Hurray for the Grail Knight! Long live Sir Isaac, the Grail Knight!”

Cheers praising Isaac echoed from here and there. Listening to the sounds, Isaac felt something warm rising within him.

He quickly recognized it.

‘Faith?’

A faith incomparable to when he was preaching to the Barbarians was seeping in. The pure adoration of the people seemed to infuse him with strength. Of course, he had performed feats when using the “Lighthouse of the Watcher” in Seor, but honestly, he hadn’t received praise then.

Back then, he had merely sobered them up and reprimanded them.

‘Indeed, showing once is better than preaching a hundred times.’

Perhaps that’s why gods bestow miracles upon their followers.

However, Isaac felt the soldiers’ praise was premature. Even he hadn’t sheathed his sword yet. He gripped his sword even tighter than before and stared straight ahead.

The real battle, as he saw it, was just beginning.

Raela, despite her severed neck, stood askew without falling.

Blood spurted incessantly from the stump of her neck.

Soon, the severed throat began to flutter like lips, emitting a voice.

“It’s already too late.”

A low laughter that made the air tremble was heard.

[What did you expect by severing a neck?]

Raela’s skin now moved on its own like a deflated balloon. Something inside was merely wearing the skin, moving independently of any bones, muscles, or joints it might have had.

Soon, the skin peeled away, and a red form began to twist and crawl up from within. Raela’s body lay sprawled like a broken doll. Shedding its skin and pouring out sacred blood, what emerged was a bizarre figure nearly 3 meters tall.

It had human arms and legs but no torso.

Three arms, three legs, and three indescribable appendages constantly switched roles.

It was complicated yet dignified, grotesque yet beautiful.

This was the angel representing the divinity of the Red Chalice on earth.

The Prophet of the Red Flesh.

Updat𝓮d fr𝙤m fre𝒆webnov(e)l.com