Paladin of the Dead God-Chapter 91:

“Me, an Inquisitor?”

The might of an Inquisitor was more concentrated on investigation, infiltration, or assassination, rather than combat, making them generally less formidable than knights in battle. Of course, Isolde could stand against a common knight, but her personal combat skills were just that—personal.

Isolde was aware of this as well.

“It’s right that you protect more of the residents, Sir Holy Grail Knight. But someone must protect the merchants.”

If Isaac moved to the southeast, the mysterious enemy emitting the chilling aura from the northwest could launch a swift assault on the domain. The aura suggested that a couple of knights wouldn’t be enough to respond effectively.

After a moment’s thought, Isaac nodded.

“Then I’ll leave it to you. I’ll assign two knights to accompany you.”

It was a significant allocation of forces, but Isolde would need the support more than Isaac, who would remain fortified in the stronghold. Isolde nodded, quickly setting off with the designated knights.

“Everyone else, start preparing for defense immediately. And I would like one priest to stay behind to lead a salvation prayer meeting with the refugees,” Isaac ordered, setting everyone into motion.

Holding a prayer meeting during an attack might seem absurd, but in this world, prayers could be answered, whether by gods, angels, or someone from the order. Isolated instances of salvation through prayer were not unheard of.

The enemy had yet to move, merely posturing a threat, but preparation was essential.

Meanwhile, Isaac felt relieved.

‘It’s good that Isolde took the initiative.’

Isaac was aware of the Immortal Order approach.

It wasn’t just Eiden’s implication; there were many signs and circumstances. Above all, Isaac was convinced that the cult wouldn’t easily abandon this domain, into which they had invested much effort.

But the reason for their emergence today had to be the blacksmith.

Following Eiden’s request for protection of the craftsman, Isaac immediately ordered Zihilrat and Hesabel to search the vicinity. Continuous surveillance of the sanctuary ensured that no anomaly went undetected.

As a result, Isaac had anticipated the order’s approach.

Eiden might have been cautious, but the order was already on his trail. And when it became apparent they couldn’t find the hiding blacksmith, they deliberately let Eiden go, seizing the opportunity to attack as the craftsman neared the domain.

‘The very caravan from Eiden’s northern trade group.’

The order would position its main forces here to restrain Isaac, sending a smaller force to deal with the few merchants and mercenaries at the caravan. Isaac had planned to ask Isolde from the start, troubled by the simultaneous introduction of the Salt Council and the world’s blacksmith, an heretical faith, into his domain.

With Barbarians and the Golden Idol already within the domain, introducing multiple faiths at once could attract unnecessary suspicion.

In essence, Isaac planned to entangle Isolde as well.

‘She might think she’s being used, but she’ll have to continue being the blindfold of the Codex of Light.’

***

Strange omens began from the darkened mountain ridges.

As residents were evacuated and soldiers completed defensive preparations, they noticed bizarre shadows moving along the ridge. The soldiers murmured among themselves at the sight.

“Zombies…”

Zombies, lacking intelligence and being living corpses, are often confused with ghouls produced by the Red Chalice Club, but they are distinctly different.

Ghouls don’t decay. Decaying forms are not beautiful, and the Red Chalice abhors the unattractive.

The zombies created by the Immortal Order were different. Becoming a zombie was merely an interim process before full induction into the order. It was too cumbersome to strip flesh from every freshly dead corpse and drain the blood, so they were left as zombies until they naturally became skeletons.

Only once completely skeletal do individuals meet the basic conditions to convert to the Immortal Order and become citizens of the Black Empire. By then, it’s too late to turn back, so unless one has a particularly strong faith, they end up joining the cult.

As Isaac watched the approaching horde of zombies, he asked a priest:

“Is the cemetery consecrated?”

“Yes. There are no corpses that can move.”

In the White Empire, corpses were usually cremated to prevent the deranged priests of the Black Empire from ‘drafting’ them. However, in cases where cremation wasn’t possible, a stone was placed in the mouth, and the body was sealed in a solid sarcophagus and entombed in a catacomb.

The zombies slowly advanced towards the castle. Their silhouettes, which had seemed merely strange from a distance, revealed their gruesome details under the moonlight. Their appearances graphically showed how they died, with some even carrying the weapons that had caused their demise.

“Disgusting Immortal Order bastards…”

The soldiers muttered angrily at the sight. Most of them were likely from Barbari or heretical slash-and-burn villages, but no one could look at them without imagining their own or their family’s faces in their place.

However, Isaac was thinking something else internally.

‘Actually, the life satisfaction of those who’ve converted to the Immortal Order doesn’t seem too bad…’

Once they become citizens of the Black Empire, they regain their senses and live without suffering from hunger or disease.

Contemplating whether that truly constitutes life is a never-ending question, but solving the problem of sustenance resolves most of life’s issues. The remaining time could be spent fulfilling emotional needs.

Of course, now was the time for outrage against the Immortal Order, so he had no intention of voicing these thoughts.

The zombies had come close enough to surround the castle. As expected, there were no looters or arsonists among them.

When the formation of the siege was somewhat complete, one of the zombies, a large man dressed as a hunter or perhaps a poacher, stepped forward.

“Cough!”

After a loud cough of blood, the man twisted his neck grotesquely and began to speak in an odd posture.

“So you sent reinforcements. Do you have that much leeway?”

Despite his grotesque appearance, his tone was dignified.

Isaac realized that a priest of the Immortal Order was using this hunter to communicate.

‘As cautious as ever.’

Even through the sanctuary, they couldn’t pinpoint the priest’s location. Different faiths had various ways of concealing their energy, so he was undoubtedly hiding somewhere through some method.

When Isaac didn’t respond, the hunter coughed again.

“We didn’t come here with any business with you. We don’t wish to harm the priests or knights of the Codex of Light, so if you command the people who left the castle earlier to return, we won’t touch you.”

“Shut your rotten mouth, you half-dead freak!”

A knight responded harshly, breaking the usual decorum and polite speech expected of them. Apparently, such rules didn’t apply when dealing with the Immortal Order. The hunter just stared at the knight.

“Knight Ansel. You’re hiding your fear behind a rough demeanor. Be wary of the four spears.”

Knight Ansel gasped at his name being called out.

Isaac clicked his tongue.

‘This is no ordinary foe.’

The fact that they could call out names meant they might have the ability to read the list of those destined to die. ‘Could they really be of bishop rank?’

The list of the doomed is a unique prescient ability of the Immortal Order, allowing them to know how someone will die. The closer the time of death, the more accurate the prediction becomes. The mention of the “four spears” indicated that if a battle ensued, Knight Ansel was likely to die.

Merely mentioning this could significantly demoralize troops—what was once a numeric factor in games was now ‘real’. Hence, it was a notoriously infamous ability.

As Ansel began to tremble, Isaac placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t pay attention to every piece of nonsense they say. They often just spout nonsense.”

At Isaac’s words, Ansel visibly relaxed, taking a deep breath. Indeed, priests of the Immortal Order were known to say anything that came to mind, as there was no way to verify their claims. Regardless, it was an effective method to lower morale.

The hunter laughed.

“Ha-ha-ha… So it’s you, the renowned Holy Grail Knight, Isaac. I’ve wanted to meet you.”

With an exaggerated bow, the hunter’s grotesquely twisted neck swung loosely. Isaac considered ordering a shot, given the hunter was within arrow range, but seeing the trembling soldiers, he decided against it.

Even if they were soldiers of a Holy Grail Knight, their roots as borderland villagers remained. Their fear of the Immortal Order was as strong as their loathing. A misguided command could easily lead to insubordination and collapse their ranks.

‘I need to boost morale somehow.’

Isaac whispered an order to Werner, who flinched but didn’t question it, promptly heading somewhere below the wall.

After issuing the command, Isaac boldly climbed up the wall.

“Sir Holy Grail Knight!”

The nearby soldiers panicked, trying to stop him, but it was to no avail. Isaac stood precariously at the edge of the wall, looking down at the hunter and the horde of zombies. Although some zombies were armed with bows, showing courage in the face of an enemy required a similar display of bravery.

“You’ve sacrificed poor souls to create this ragtag bunch, you leftover-feast priest!”

“Leftover feast?”

The hunter asked, puzzled by the unfamiliar analogy, to which Isaac responded.

“Aren’t you just leftovers from a feast enjoyed by maggots?”

Soft laughter erupted from somewhere along the wall.

Isaac didn’t think his joke was particularly funny, but the soldiers needed that moment of levity. His words provided a break in the tension, allowing the soldiers to regain their composure.

“Thinking you can challenge the Issacrea Monastery with a mishmash of slash-and-burn farmers, poachers, and wanderers is a grave mistake. How do you plan to lay siege with the bodies of those poor souls? Are you going to headbutt the walls?”

Isaac’s remarks helped the soldiers regain their calm and observe the zombies. While their grotesque appearances induced disgust, the zombies had only their resilience; they were slower than ordinary people and lacked proper equipment.

“We could burn down your humble villages and poison your wells.”

The hunter responded with a threat. If Isaac remained holed up in the castle, his domain, painstakingly built, would be ruined.

“Try it if you can.”

Isaac answered with a grim smile. As the hunter puzzled over his smile, Isaac raised and then swiftly lowered his hand.

“Fire!”

At his signal, arrows rained down on the zombies, not from the wall but from the village direction.

“Bury these rotting things for good!”

Jacquette, along with mercenaries hired from Barbarians, had been ambushing from the village buildings. When the villagers began evacuating into the castle, they didn’t return with them but prepared for an ambush in the village instead.

Whooosh. Tar-covered fire arrows lit up, quickly setting dozens of zombies ablaze. Yet, the hunter only scoffed.

“Is this pitiful ambush what you were banking on?”

From his perspective, the ambush was akin to willingly presenting flesh before the zombies’ teeth, abandoning the advantage of the walls for a frail wooden house defense.

But as he prepared to command the zombies to attack, the gates of the Issacrea Monastery began to open. Leading the charge, Isaac, followed by knights and cavalry, surged forward, with soldiers flooding out behind them.

“What?”

Caught off guard by the unexpected move, the hunter was stunned. By then, Isaac had already concluded his strategy against this Immortal force.

The real ambush wasn’t external; it was within their midst.

Dozens of days ago, the flies, foxes, and maggots that had begun to run rampant had already begun to feast inside the bodies of the zombies.

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