Paladin of the Dead God-Chapter 383: The Breakwater Against Chaos (2)

The pale green glow of Kaldbruch pierced through the chest of a fallen Death Knight, causing the soul trapped within the Armye to shudder violently.

With the authority of a king, Edelred issued a command to the Death Knight.

“Betrayal will not be forgiven. By royal decree, return to the place where you belong!”

The soul convulsed, its movements erratic and disjointed, but soon it quieted.

[As you command, my king.]

With that final whisper, the soul shot skyward, vanishing to an unknown place. Wiping the cold sweat from his brow, Edelred approached the next Death Knight. Though the battle was over, the mere act of wielding Kaldbruch and summoning his sword aura was exhausting, draining his body and mind alike.

What Edelred was doing could be considered a form of exorcism — a rite that only those of Elil’s faith could perform. While it was hard to believe, given the frequency of their internal strife, Elil’s followers were fanatically obedient to the authority of a king’s command.

Of course, that was only if the one issuing the command possessed the proper authority.

With Kaldbruch, his sword aura, and the dignity of a Lion Knight, Edelred had just enough authority to act as a king in this instance.

Of course, if these factors alone were enough to make the souls of Elil’s knights return for good, it would have been ideal. But this was only a temporary rite. Ultimately, these souls would be drawn back to the Immortal Order. The most Edelred could do was conduct proper funerary rites before that happened.

“Your Majesty, if you’re feeling fatigued, you should rest for a while.”

Lianne approached and offered her suggestion.

The exorcism rite that Edelred performed was one that Lianne could perform as well. Though she was technically acting as Edelred’s proxy in issuing the command, she also wielded a holy sword, carried the light of a sword aura, and bore the radiance of an Archangel’s blessing.

“No, this is a sacred rite. It cannot be done carelessly,” Edelred replied firmly. But once he noticed that everyone else had moved far enough away, he lowered his tone and spoke more candidly.

“Sister Lianne, aren’t you tired as well? Honestly, we could just gather them all and burn them. It feels like I’m burdening you unnecessarily.”

“No, it’s fine. Just as you said, I’d rather not have to fight the Elil knights all over again. The Codex of Light’s method may be convenient, but it lacks both respect and dignity.”

The reason they chose the more exhausting method of laying the dead to rest was to avoid facing revived Death Knights with newly bestowed bodies. Though the Codex of Light claimed that new bodies were rarely granted, Edelred and Lianne did not believe it.

The Elil knights were a proud and powerful order of warriors. From the Immortal Emperor’s perspective, it might not be worth the effort to give new bodies to the lowly dead that the Codex of Light dismissed as "insignificant," but would he not wish to reuse warriors as formidable as the Elil knights?

This belief was deeply ingrained in the leadership of Elil’s forces.

It might seem like arrogance, but the careful exorcism rites did, in fact, delay the revival of the Death Knights. At the very least, it was unlikely they would encounter them again before the Holy Land of Lua was reclaimed.

“Especially that knight named Tolvard. I’d rather not meet him again.”

Edelred clicked his tongue, recalling the fierce Death Knight who had nearly pierced through his guard and aimed for his neck. Without the timely intervention of a stray arrow and the power of Kaldbruch, Edelred wasn’t sure he would have survived.

“Now that I think about it, Sister Lianne, that knight — his swordsmanship reminded me of Lua Bellin’s.”

“…Lua, you say?”

Lianne furrowed her brow, deep in thought. She considered it carefully, then nodded as if reaching a conclusion.

“I thought so too. The Bellin family’s swordsmanship is distinct. Even the other Death Knights, while varying in skill, seemed to be using Bellin’s techniques. And above all, that banner…”

Her gaze shifted to the flag now in Edelred’s hands. The banner, featuring a red sword on a green field, had been carried by the Death Knights. Lua Bellin wasn’t present on the battlefield, but the mere presence of this banner made it hard to believe the use of her family’s swordsmanship was a coincidence.

“Sister, I don’t even know anyone named Tolvard. If he were a Swordmaster, there should be a record of him somewhere. Have you ever heard of him?”

“No. It’s my first time hearing the name.”

Which meant that Tolvard had learned from Lua Bellin and reached the level of Swordmaster outside of Elil’s kingdom. And the only possible place where that could have happened was within the Dawn Army.

The thought of Lua Bellin acting as a sword instructor for the Empire of Urdantu made Edelred shudder.

“They must have been fine knights. What could have happened to make them choose the path of eternal battle after death?”

The more Edelred reflected on the undead Elil knights on this battlefield, the less he understood them.

If they had fought bravely and died, shouldn’t they have gone to their eternal rest, content with the honor they had earned? What glory was there to be found as an undead warrior? Could there even be "honor" for the undead?

‘What even is glory and honor? Do courage and valor hold any meaning once you’ve gained an immortal body? The Elil knights claim to seek courage and honor above all, but do those ideals even exist?’

Edelred turned to Lianne and asked suddenly.

“Is this expedition a war of honor for you, Sister?”

Lianne didn’t answer right away.

“I thought if I won battle after battle, I would come to understand the glory of Elil. I thought I would come to respect and understand the valor of knights. But…”

Edelred trailed off as he gazed at the battlefield.

The smell of burning flesh hung heavy in the air. The Armyes of their enemies, the Death Knights who had once been fellow Elil worshipers, lay lifeless and broken.

“…I still find it hard to like knights.”

It was a statement of apostasy, one that would have left other knights in shock. But Lianne was not shaken. If anything, she shared his fatigue, and she muttered with a similar weariness.

“That’s fine.”

“...What?”

“Elil is a god, and you, Your Majesty, are a man. They say the perfect knight is one who emulates Elil. But how exhausting it must be for a man to imitate a god. Personally, I think concepts like courage and honor are just excuses people use to mimic Elil.”

“…Does that mean it’s all meaningless?”

“No, of course not.”

Lianne placed a hand on Edelred’s shoulder, giving it a reassuring pat.

“Courage and honor aren’t the goal — they’re part of the process. They can never be the goal. The goal isn’t something divine; it’s something you find within yourself. It’s only natural that many people spend their whole lives without ever finding it.”

Her voice was calm and resolute.

“At the very least, as long as you keep struggling, Your Majesty, you will always be better than your enemies.”

***

Ku-rururur…

A heavy rumble echoed as the great steel gate slowly creaked open.

As Leonora stepped inside, she recoiled slightly at the thick smoke and overpowering scent wafting toward her.

The fragrance itself wasn’t unpleasant.

Leonora recognized it immediately as the scent of White Dawnweed — an herb so rare that even in the Gerthonia Empire, it was difficult to acquire. Harvested exclusively from the wild, drying and grinding an entire cartload of it would only yield a mere handful of powder, making it worth its weight in gold.

Yet here it was, burning so thickly that it seemed as though the owner of the house had piled it up like firewood and set it ablaze. The air was so saturated with the fragrance that it was nearly suffocating.

[Come in, Leonora.]

Updated from freewёbnoνel.com.

The voice of the lich who had invited her echoed from within.

Leonora frowned as she glared through the doorway. The guards at her side, visibly uneasy from standing in a city swarming with undead, seemed eager to go inside. But Leonora raised her voice.

“If I walk in now, I’ll either be smoked like meat or suffocated to death. Or maybe both. Ventilate the place, and then I’ll enter.”

Shortly after her words rang out, the windows of the mansion began to creak open. Skeletal servants moved methodically, while a few zombies—less decayed than the average kind—also assisted in opening the windows.

Zombies? Leonora raised an eyebrow in surprise.

In the Urdantu Empire, the wealth of a noble was often measured by how clean and pristine their skeletal servants were. Zombies, with rotting flesh still clinging to their bones, were considered filthy and uncouth, often relegated to working in farms or mines on the outskirts of the city. They were rarely allowed inside city limits, let alone inside a noble’s residence.

The lich she had come to visit was no ordinary figure. He was one of the wealthiest men in Ushak, the capital of the Urdantu Empire, and a former merchant lord of the Golden Idol Guild. To see zombies among his servants was unusual.

[Is it because of the war?] Leonora thought to herself. [Or is it something else?]

[Once you think it’s sufficient, feel free to come in.]

Just as she was considering it, the voice reached her ears. Taking it as her cue, she strode forward. The heavy scent still lingered, filling her nose so strongly it felt like her sense of smell had been numbed. It was uncomfortably warm as well, far from the constant chill typical of the Urdantu Empire, which was winter all year round. Fortunately, it wasn’t quite hot enough to feel like she was being smoked alive.

Before long, a lich descended slowly down the staircase, gliding as if his feet didn’t touch the ground.

This was Al Theodore, a lich known as one of the wealthiest figures in the Immortal Order and a former merchant lord of the Golden Idol Guild.

[It’s been a while, Miss Leonora. I apologize for the smoke. We recently acquired a batch of new servants thanks to the war, and I went a little overboard trying to mask the smell. As you know, I can’t actually smell it myself, so I have no idea what “enough” is.]

“...Thank you for your consideration. I believe it’s more than sufficient now.”

[That aside, I hear you took a rather unusual route to get here this time.]

For once, Al Theodore didn’t jump straight into business. Instead, he commented on her route, and a subtle tension spread through the air.

Leonora wasn’t surprised. She knew full well that her movements had been under watch. She had crossed the Fortress of Gehenna and the Valley of Labyrinths with an undead escort, so it would have been strange if no one had noticed.

“With all the chaos up north, how could I transport such valuable goods on foot? I merely took advantage of an open sea route when the opportunity presented itself.”

No doubt Al Theodore had already heard about the collapse of the Nightmare Strait. In fact, it was possible he even knew that Leonora had been supplying the Issacrea Dawn Army. But Leonora wasn’t concerned. She knew that Al Theodore wouldn’t press her on it.

War is war. Business is business.

Unless the Golden Idol Guild sided with only one faction, no one would dare accuse her of wrongdoing for selling to both sides. This was the unspoken rule that governed war merchants.

Sure enough, Al Theodore let out a faint chuckle.

[Did you bring the items I requested?]

“Of course. All genuine articles, crafted in Lichtheim itself.”

Al Theodore’s eyes glowed brightly with satisfaction as he approached the cart Leonora had brought. As he examined the relics and texts, his admiration was clear.

[Splendid! Despite the turmoil of war, you still managed to acquire artifacts of this quality. No, I’d say they’re even better than before!]

“Since the Codex of Light is busy preparing for the Dawn Army, they’re selling off everything that won’t help them in battle. I managed to purchase them at a discount, but as you can see, the quality hasn’t dropped.”

[As expected of you, Miss Leonora. It’s always a pleasure to do business with you.]

“Thank you.”

Of course, mixed in with the relics were ornate but meaningless trinkets. Some were simply flashy weapons that looked divine but held no sacred power. But that wasn’t an issue — even pointless baubles had their market.

These items would be sold as ornaments to Death Knights and liches preparing for decisive battles. It was an odd quirk, but many undead liked to decorate themselves with relics that symbolized the faith they once belonged to.

“Actually, I brought something special this time.”

With a coy smile, Leonora reached into the innermost part of the cart and pulled out a white chalice. At first glance, it gleamed with ruby inlays and gold embellishments.

Al Theodore’s eyes sparkled with awe, but moments later, he tilted his head, sensing something odd.

[This is... what is this made of?]

The material was unlike anything he had seen before. It was smooth yet unidentifiable. It wasn’t bone, wood, or ivory — but it also wasn’t metal or crystal.

Leonora’s smile widened, her eyes glinting with satisfaction.

“It’s a hollow relic, carved from the bone of a Fallen Angel. It was handcrafted by a Forge Artisan.”

[What?! Fallen Angel bones?! And it was crafted by a Forge Artisan?! How did you acquire this?!]

Al Theodore’s usually calm demeanor vanished as he exclaimed in disbelief. Leonora raised her head confidently and shrugged.

“Do you think my network is ordinary? If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t even know such a thing existed. It just so happens that recently, a small supply of Fallen Angel bones was released onto the market. And I even managed to recruit a few Forge Artisans to craft this for me.”

She tilted the chalice toward him, letting the light catch the delicate carvings and intricate design.

“This chalice is a replica of the legendary Red Chalice.”

Of course, the real Red Chalice was not even a chalice in form, and this imitation had no powers or abilities. But that wasn’t the point. The story behind it — the “narrative” — was part of its value.

Al Theodore was already captivated. His gaze, enchanted by the words "Fallen Angel bones" and "Forge Artisan work", was fixed on the chalice.

[Magnificent. Absolutely magnificent. This is the kind of item that money alone can’t buy. If it’s a hollow relic, that means we can imbue it with any miracle we want, doesn’t it?]

“Exactly. Which is why I thought it would make an excellent gift for a certain someone.”

Al Theodore paused, his gaze sharp. It wasn’t difficult to discern the meaning behind her words.

In the capital of Ushak, there were few people more “worthy” than Al Theodore. For Leonora to offer such a valuable item as a “gift” implied something significant.

[Are you seeking an audience with His Majesty, the Immortal Emperor?]

The room fell silent.