Paladin of the Dead God

Chapter 268:

“Why are you blocking the road?”

“Do I look like an orc? I’m delivering supplies to the Holy City, so why won’t you let me through?”

“What’s the problem here? Sir Soldier, please tell me what’s going on, and maybe I can show some appreciation. Just a little bit of what you know…”

In a village near the Holy City of Lichtheim, chaos reigned. Though small, this village served as a checkpoint for merchants, priests, and pilgrims passing through. But today, an unprecedented uproar had broken out because the road, which had been open as usual yesterday, was suddenly blocked by the Imperial Army.

The Imperial Army had posted an announcement claiming they were “defending the Holy City against an invasion by the Olkan Code from the east.” However, people couldn’t understand why the Holy City’s gates were being shut due to something happening so far away in the east.

Surely those barbarians would be crushed in a single blow by the combined might of the ‘civilized’ Imperial Army and the Codex of Light?

People began whispering in secret that something else was going on in Lichtheim.

“Hey, I told you to stop! You can’t go in!”

An officer of the Imperial Army shouted, shaking off the merchant’s hand that had tried to slip him a coin. While it was hard for the officer to refuse a gold coin, he really had nothing to tell. If the merchant had offered two coins, the officer might have invented a story to satisfy him, but it seemed the merchant believed the officer was incorruptible and didn’t offer again.

Some people attempted to sell perishable goods on the spot, hoping to offload them before they spoiled since they couldn’t deliver to Lichtheim. Meanwhile, wandering monks, whose pilgrimage was halted, protested, their faces flushed with anger. It was only when the officer drew his sword that the crowd reluctantly retreated.

“Silence and step back! His Majesty the Emperor is aware of the serious threat to the Holy City and has led the army himself! Anyone attempting to enter Lichtheim will be considered spies of the Red Chalice!”

When the soldiers raised their spears menacingly, the crowd hesitated and scattered. Yet the soldiers themselves didn’t look particularly happy. Although they had come to defend the Holy City, it felt more like a siege.

While it was a matter for their superiors to decide, they worried they might be committing an act deserving divine punishment.

***

Isaac observed the situation unfold.

‘It’s the same here.’

He had traveled swiftly from Seor to the vicinity of Lichtheim on the back of Nel. Thanks to several days and nights of non-stop travel, they had arrived quickly, but as they drew nearer to Lichtheim, Nel struggled to keep flying.

The immense holy power surrounding Lichtheim, similar to the aura around Ulsten, was derived from layers upon layers of myth and legend. As a creature partly of Elil’s angelic descent, Nel found it difficult to approach. In the end, Isaac had to leave Nel in a nearby forest and continue alone.

But every village he approached was already blocked by the Imperial Army. He considered summoning a Phantom Steed, but such a malevolent creature would surely melt if summoned near the Holy City.

‘At this point, the Imperial Army has practically laid siege to Lichtheim. The best outcome would be if Waltzemer’s show of force causes the Order to surrender on its own…’

But if it goes further, the Empire would destroy itself.

Not only the Dawn Army, but even the Olkan Code could crush them. Isaac wondered about the Emperor’s ultimate goal with such a risky move.

At that moment, he overheard people murmuring as they passed by.

“Do you think His Majesty plans to take the papacy for himself?”

“Shh, you’ll get us struck by lightning for saying that. His Majesty is devout; he wouldn’t do such a thing.”

“Well, even so, the city’s surrounded like this…”

“Hmm, that’s true. His Majesty is a saint, after all. He might be better than that greedy, bald Pope. He’d probably lead the Dawn Army better too.”

At least, it seemed that the public opinion of the Emperor was favorable. Most dissatisfaction was directed toward the Order because of the Dawn Army issue.

‘Emperor Waltzemer is indeed an extraordinary figure.’

Compared to him, the Pope was just someone anyone could become once elected. To put it bluntly, it was a popularity contest among the priests. Since the angels only cared about obedience to their commands and didn’t meddle in the Order’s politics, the angels might not oppose the Emperor becoming the Pope himself.

In fact, considering the grand goal of occupying the Holy Land, a Pope-Emperor might be more fitting than a mere Pope.

It’s not a strange concept.

As with Edelred and Sahulan Khan, the supreme leaders in Elil, the Olkan Code, and the Immortal Order are considered divine proxies. In contrast, the Empire is unique in having separated heavenly and earthly powers.

Isaac found the situation extremely perplexing.

This was a scenario that didn’t exist in the game.

Of course, the Emperor was a remarkable human with many achievements, but attacking the Pope and controlling the papacy? He had never seen anything like this.

‘…Did my actions inspire his ambitions? He was always ambitious, but still.’

What would happen if the Emperor’s coup succeeded and he became Pope-Emperor?

It would be a joyous outcome for Isaac personally, but would it be purely joyful? Having never experienced such a scenario, even after eight victories in the game, he couldn’t predict the outcome.

‘I’ll think more about it when I reach the Holy City. First, I need to understand what the Emperor is planning.’

As Isaac pondered how to bypass the soldiers, he soon realized he didn’t need to worry.

He approached the soldiers standing in the middle of the road.

The officer noticed another person approaching and frowned, but then realized this man’s appearance was unusual.

“I am Isaac Issacrea. I am on my way in response to His Majesty the Emperor’s summons.”

“A, A, Are you Isaac Issacrea? The Holy Grail Knight? Are you the Holy Grail Knight? B-But, Duke Lyon ordered that no one be allowed through…”

“Is Duke Lyon’s command above His Majesty’s?”

Isaac’s authority, demeanor, and persuasive power as a Nephilim weighed down on the officer. If he used the Eyes of Chaos here, the officer might wet himself, but Isaac didn’t want to go that far. The officer felt like he might faint but struggled to respond.

“C-Can you provide some identification…?”

“Identification?”

Isaac responded, realizing the absurdity of the request given the context. With his reputation preceding him and his identity obvious to anyone familiar with current affairs, he recognized that no typical credentials could prove his identity better than his presence and the aura he projected as a Nephilim and a Holy Grail Knight.

Isaac pulled out two swords, one in each hand, from their sheaths just slightly.

“One is the Luadin Key, and the other is the Holy Sword Kaldwin. Surely these are proof enough of my identity.”

Thanks to the Emperor’s enthusiastic promotion of Isaac’s achievements, the officer knew what Kaldwin was.

The swords Isaac showed held two meanings for the officer.

First, they were literal proof of Isaac’s identity.

Secondly, it implied that if the officer continued to deny Isaac entry, he might see those swords drawn—the same ones that slew an angel. An extraordinary experience, perhaps, but the officer made a rational decision.

The Holy Grail Knight was also known to be the son-in-law of Duke Brant, an influential imperial aide, and was close friends with Marquis Lyon. Simultaneously, he was a knight of the Order, so the officer concluded that there was no issue in letting him through.

“Proceed.”

“Oh, and I’ll need a horse.”

“I… I’ll lend you one.”

The Imperial officer wondered why the famous Holy Grail Knight was here without a horse or attendants, but he wasn’t in a position to question him. His courage had been entirely spent when he dared to ask Isaac for identification.

Isaac mounted the horse the officer provided and immediately rode toward the Holy City.

***

Thump, thump, thump, halt! Thump, thump, thump, halt!

Tens of thousands of troops surrounded and lined up around Lichtheim. In front of the main gate, each legion took turns marching in formation. Ten thousand soldiers moved as one, stamping their feet, pivoting at the general’s command, and then marching again. As they reached the gates of Lichtheim, they shouted in unison.

“Waaaaaah!!”

The roar of ten thousand voices could be heard across the entire city of Lichtheim. Once they completed their shout, the legion returned to its original position, and a new legion took its place.

This was a traditional display of military might. It was a demonstration showing the sheer number of troops they could mobilize, their excellent equipment, and the considerable training they had undergone.

It was a performance to showcase the Emperor’s power and authority.

The legions brought by the Emperor were among the elite of the Imperial Army. The generals were equipped with unwavering loyalty, leaving no room for betrayal.

However, the soldiers believed they were engaging in this show of force for a completely different reason. They thought that the evil and corrupt priests of the “Watcher’s Council” had taken the Pope hostage and were the cause of the Empire’s decline.

In this narrative, the Watcher’s Council was depicted as an almost cult-like evil organization.

They were even blamed for the monsters appearing in the capital and Rougeberg.

The Imperial soldiers believed they were a holy army dispatched to rescue the Pope. Or at least, they wanted to believe that.

Dietrich watched as the fifth legion completed their shout and returned, rubbing his face with a hand. The gates of the Holy City remained firmly shut, silent as ever.

“Will this work?”

Such displays of power are effective only when the enemy’s morale is already low, and their training is subpar. Dietrich knew the Emperor wished to avoid bloodshed but wondered if a direct assault might be better.

The Emperor answered with a smile.

“It will work.”

Waltzemer was confident.

“The priests in there are mostly bookworms who’ve never experienced war. They might shout for war from their armchairs, but when war comes knocking at their door, they tremble. Rather than blaming me, they’ll think, ‘How did our devout Imperial Army come all the way here? What is the Pope doing?’ It’s easier to blame their own side.”

What Waltzemer was aiming for was internal division. Although he had approached the doorstep of the Holy City of Lichtheim, he wanted to avoid spilling the blood of knights and priests. Public backlash was a concern, as was the fact that the Church still consisted of his subjects.

Marquis Lyon spoke up, sounding pleased.

“I can already predict the reaction. ‘Shouldn’t we summon an angel to punish this heretic? What is the Pope doing? What? Bishop Cattin was demoted to a regular priest? Wasn’t she a cardinal candidate? Then the Emperor’s demands are reasonable, and our Pope’s stupidity caused this mess?’ These people live in filth so deep they don’t even realize the stench from their own behinds.”

“As long as this makes them realize the problem, it’s enough, Lyon.”

The Emperor stroked his horn as he spoke.

“There will be those with purpose inside. I hope our soldiers’ shouts have bolstered their courage. All I ask is for the cardinal election to be conducted fairly.”

Of course, everyone knew what was to come afterward.

Juan would be placed as Pope following the election, and after a brief reign, he would abdicate the papacy to the Emperor. Thus, all earthly power would finally rest in human hands.

Yet Dietrich couldn’t shake off his worries.

“What if the Pope, cornered as he is, calls an angel and demands a divine trial? He’s the type to choose that over being dragged down.”

Without knowing the angels’ intentions, a divine trial would be nothing short of a gamble.

“Hah, let him!”

Lyon snorted in derision.

The Emperor was not worried about the divine trial either.

“The goal of the Codex of Light is the advent of the Millennium Kingdom. I am confident I can achieve that better than the Pope. The Pope is only hasty. Meanwhile, I—my horns, my destiny—were born for conquest and war.”

Waltzemer was confident he would stand proudly even before the angels.

His fate was set when his entire family burned to death, and he grew those shining horns.

Waltzemer’s destiny had already begun in that smoke and fire. Now, that destiny was merely reaching its culmination.

Creeeeak.

As the seventh legion finished their formation march, the gates of Lichtheim began to open. Inside stood Bishop Juan with a grim expression, along with several Holy Grail Knights and priests.

A smile spread across the Emperor’s lips.

_____________

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