Paladin of the Dead God-Chapter 329.2

“Also, please forgive our earlier demeanor. The truth is, on the way here, we discovered something that made us wary. We were concerned that you might be bandits.”

“Discovered what?”

The aide signaled to one of the knights in the rear, who brought forth something large wrapped in cloth. As it was unwrapped, Soltnar felt a chill creep down his spine. Inside the shroud was the shriveled remains of the three inquisitors who had been sent ahead.

Their bodies were dried out, as though all fluids had been drained, and any clothing or symbols identifying them as inquisitors had been stripped away. Soltnar stood in stunned silence for a moment before finally speaking.

“…These are our Inquisitors. This is clearly Isaac’s doing.”

“Oh? So the Holy Grail Knight’s heresy involves the Red Chalice as well?”

“No, there’s a harlot from the Red Chalice Club who travels with him. I had noticed her absence before. She must have ambushed them.”

Soltnar’s words caused the knights to murmur among themselves. The aide quieted them and asked for confirmation.

“Do you have any evidence to support this?”

“…”

In truth, Soltnar wasn’t entirely sure. He had heard reports of human hunters recently being spotted near Odryf during his local investigation. But a good inquisitor never spoke of inconvenient facts—they only shared what supported their case.

The aide turned to Dera Heman, who stared at Soltnar for a long moment before making a short gesture. The aide nodded.

“Very well. You may accompany us. However, you are not to act on your own. Remember that we serve directly under His Holiness, the Pope, as the Golden Lion Paladins. Everything will proceed according to proper order and discipline.”

Soltnar nodded awkwardly at those words, though they felt unfamiliar to him, even as an inquisitor supposedly upholding order.

***

The Golden Lion Paladins finally arrived on the outskirts of Odryf.

Until the last possible moment, Isaac had considered using the overwhelming power of his gathered forces to intimidate Dera Heman. After all, no matter how mighty the Golden Lion Paladins were, they couldn’t take on everyone who had come to Isaac’s aid.

But in the end, Isaac decided to only bring Hesabel with him to meet them.

When he saw the Golden Lion Paladins approach, Isaac was glad he’d chosen that route. Soltnar, the inquisitor he had beaten down, had returned with Dera Heman at his side.

‘If I had shown up with a huge army, that bastard would’ve accused me of trying to start a war.’ Isaac thought grimly. ‘I need to present myself with confidence.’

Isaac confidently strode forward to meet the approaching paladins.

“Welcome. I am Isaac Issacrea, though some call me the Holy Grail Knight.”

Seeing Dera Heman’s golden lion mask brought back a surge of memories from Isaac’s infiltration of Lichtheim, where the mere sight of that mask had triggered trauma. He still didn’t know if Bashul, the ally who had accompanied him during that mission, was dead or alive.

As Hesabel stood confidently by Isaac’s side, the aide turned to glance at Soltnar, who turned red with frustration. Yet, at this moment, Soltnar wasn’t the one representing the Golden Lion Paladins.

Dera Heman gazed silently at Isaac for a long moment before making a series of hand gestures.

“It is an honor to meet you, Holy Grail Knight,” the aide translated. “Unfortunately, I bring somber news. The commander has been dispatched with orders to take command of the Issacrea Dawn Army in your place.”

Dera Heman’s gestures were far shorter than the aide’s translation, but the aide smoothly added diplomatic flourishes to the message as if well-practiced.

“We also heard about the unfortunate incident involving the inquisitor. The commander is curious if there were any issues during the process of delivering His Holiness’s message, or if you encountered any difficulties carrying out the orders.”

Instead of answering, Isaac folded his arms, his gaze settling coldly on Soltnar. He then began the speech he had prepared.

“I trust that His Holiness is well aware of the unique circumstances surrounding the Issacrea Dawn Army. As you know, this army represents the union of three great faiths: the Codex of Light, the followers of Elil, and the worshippers of the World’s Forge. We have come together as one.”

The aide smiled and continued the diplomatic exchange.

“His Holiness is indeed very pleased with such a noble alliance and sends his highest praise. He believes that this reorganization will present an opportunity to further unify our forces.”

Isaac smiled back, though his thoughts were already sharpening.

“I completely agree with His Holiness’s wisdom and am fully prepared to carry out any orders.”

“What nonsense are you spouting now!?”

Soltnar, unable to hold back, shouted in disbelief. Was this not the same man who had beaten him senseless in rejection? What kind of backtracking nonsense was this? Did he really think he could undo what had already happened?

But before Soltnar could continue, his breath caught as he met Dera Heman’s gaze. The cold, gleaming eyes behind the golden lion mask seemed to squeeze his heart like a vice.

Isaac, still glaring at Soltnar, spoke again.

“However… there is a problem. The inquisitors made several offensive and inappropriate remarks to my allies. They insulted the Elil, calling them a gang of beggars who worship incestuous gods. They claimed the followers of the World’s Forge were cave-dwellers who worship a false god buried in the earth. And as for my deputy… well, they made some very indecent comments about her as well.”

At this, Hesabel pretended to tear up, her eyes welling with fake emotion. Of course, she wasn’t actually hurt—she hadn’t even encountered the inquisitors. But Isaac’s words caused the paladins to frown.

It wasn’t hard to believe. After all, such rumors had long circulated about the inquisitors, and in the past, similar comments had caused diplomatic rifts between the White Empire and the various faiths.

The Elil had severed ties with the Codex of Light when their champion, Ashen, had been burned at the stake. The World’s Forge had also distanced itself after its doctrines were insulted by inquisitors. It wasn’t out of character for the inquisitors to insult Isaac’s coalition.

Soltnar, however, was left speechless. He had never said such things—this time, at least. But given the history of the inquisitors, no one here would believe him. And after his earlier humiliation, there was no point in protesting further.

‘Consider this payback for the reputation your predecessors ruined, Soltnar.’

This was why reputation mattered.