Paladin of the Dead God-Chapter 395: Beneath the World’s Shell (2)

The moment Beshek called Isaac’s name, his awareness surged forward, displacing the identity of the body he inhabited.

Although the setting was foreign, the situation itself felt eerily familiar.

Isaac took a deep breath and asked Beshek:

"Is this Urbansus?"

He expected a simple “yes.”

But Beshek shook his head.

"No, it is not."

"Not?"

"This is erased history," Beshek replied matter-of-factly.

"In this timeline, I die, stabbed by that knife in your hand."

Isaac frowned. At first, he thought it nonsensical, but then realization dawned.

The Urbansus Revision.

Much like how Urbansus had rewritten history, erasing centuries of glory once enjoyed by the maritime order, Beshek, too, had been subjected to such an event.

"So, someone… saved you?"

Beshek gave a bitter smile and nodded.

"Yes. A Codex of Light Archangel — most likely the Lighthouse Keeper — must have erased this history to keep me alive."

Isaac felt an unsettling chill.

If Beshek’s words were true, then the Lighthouse Keeper had created the Codex of Light’s greatest threat — the Millennium Kingdom’s most significant obstacle — by sparing him.

Isaac glanced at the dagger in his hand.

The old man in yellow robes had handed it to him, saying, “Beshek will become the bulwark that prevents annihilation.”

Perhaps the Lighthouse Keeper had saved Beshek not out of altruism but to use him as a bulwark against destruction.

While the Keeper might show indifference toward individual lives, they would not seek the end of the world.

"Something about this doesn’t add up."

"What doesn’t?" Beshek asked.

Then, without waiting for a reply, he turned and walked toward the nearby church.

"Let’s not talk about this on our feet. How about some tea?"

Isaac, who had come here to assassinate Beshek, now found himself accepting an invitation to tea. He followed, unable to shake the surreal absurdity of the moment.

Inside, Beshek had already prepared boiling water and dried dates.

He seemed to have anticipated this encounter.

"Take a seat," Beshek offered.

Isaac sat, feeling as though he were under a spell.

As Beshek poured the tea, he spoke:

"I know it feels strange. I wasn’t expecting to meet you here either."

"Exactly. That’s the problem. The Immortal Order doesn’t even have Urbansus, right? They dragged it down and merged it with the mortal realm. They erased the boundary between the living and the dead."

"Correct," Beshek replied.

"This isn’t the Immortal Order’s Urbansus. As I said, it’s erased history."

"But erased history shouldn’t be accessible," Isaac mused.

Even Amundalas had said as much. Despite their vast knowledge, they couldn’t show Isaac erased history.

Then again, Isaac had seen erased history once before — after consuming a piece of The Caller’s flesh in the fisherman’s house.

The common thread seemed to be the involvement of gods.

"Can gods perceive erased history?"

Beshek smiled faintly.

"No. Not even gods can retrieve erased history."

"Then how—?"

"Think about how you’re seeing this memory now. That’s your clue."

Isaac remembered — the Elder of the Mountain’s essence. He had consumed it just moments ago.

Was this phenomenon linked to consuming the essence of outer boundary creatures? He’d consumed Sadraja’s essence in the Salt Desert, but not every essence revealed erased memories.

Then the realization struck him.

"outer boundary creatures?"

Beshek smiled knowingly.

"Exactly. The memories you’ve accessed are carried by outer boundary creatures."

Isaac shivered at the implications.

"Are these creatures victims of erased history?"

"You’re quick to catch on," Beshek said with a soft smile.

***

Isaac had always believed outer boundary creatures to be chaotic entities created by Nameless Chaos — fragments of its wild and violent influence.

Indeed, these beings did seem tied to the chaos’s power.

But Beshek elaborated:

"The body you’re occupying, the one that belongs to Al Yahamed, the Elder of the Mountain, once belonged to a noble of a long-dead empire. Despite his fall from grace, he remained a powerful warlord with many followers and waged numerous assassinations against the Codex of Light. Even against me."

"You?"

"Yes, including me. Of course, at the time, I had no idea. My attention was… elsewhere."

Beshek chuckled, though the bitterness in his tone was evident.

Isaac, however, had no interest in Beshek’s distractions.

"I thought outer boundary creatures were born from Nameless Chaos."

"According to the Codex of Light," Beshek began, his tone even.

"No information is ever truly erased. Even when Urbansus revises history, the original events don’t disappear — they’re merely displaced. Urbansus preserves the ‘selected’ history, locking it in an immutable shell. But beneath that shell…"

"…All erased histories are cast into the Outer Boundary?"

Beshek offered no verbal reply, only a faint, enigmatic smile.

"For a very long time, I’ve observed the Outer Boundary. I’ve even witnessed the self-destruction of Nameless Chaos. If I may, I’d call Nameless Chaos the Codex of Light’s ‘remainder.’"

"Remainder? What do you mean?"

"You know basic math, don’t you? When you divide a number, sometimes there’s a remainder," Beshek said, his voice calm but laden with an unsettling truth. "I believe Nameless Chaos is precisely that — the remainder. When the Codex of Light establishes its perfect, whole numbers of order, all that doesn’t fit into its equation is left behind. And that remainder... finds its place in chaos."

Beshek’s words painted a picture of those excluded from history: beings who didn’t fit into the preordained framework, whose bodies defied categorization, and whose very existence was deemed unsuitable for the structured world.

"I think Nameless Chaos itself might be the Outer Boundary," Beshek said.

Isaac recalled the countless monstrosities of Nameless Chaos calling him “traitor.”

A saint of the Codex of Light — revered, beautiful, and loved.

Yet within his body lay a monster born of Nameless Chaos.

"I suppose ‘traitor’ isn’t entirely inaccurate," Isaac thought, though he suspected there was more to the story.

As he moved closer to Holy Land Lua, Isaac felt himself unraveling the threads of a secret history.

The battle against the Immortal Order was more than a physical struggle; it was a war against the past.

And Isaac, it seemed, was no exception to that fight.

"Every time gods and angels reshape Urbansus, the Outer Boundary ripples wildly," Beshek explained. "They select histories with no more regard than picking apples, but with each choice, countless lives are swept into the chaos of the unrefined."

Isaac didn’t need to hear more to understand the horrors of the Outer Boundary.

Even the monstrosities that occasionally slipped into the mortal realm painted a grim picture of that place.

If there was any solace, it was that the boundary’s crushing conditions eroded self-awareness and intelligence to the point where despair itself became meaningless.

All that remained were hunger and violence — distilled essence of survival.

"Why are you telling me all this?"

Isaac’s voice was tinged with suspicion.

Knowledge of Urbansus was tightly guarded, even among the divine. The angels who worked with Isaac had kept silent about erased histories.

Yet Beshek not only revealed such truths but also shared his own conjectures.

"We met by chance, didn’t we? Why be so forthcoming? I’m your enemy, aren’t I?"

"As I said before," Beshek replied evenly,

"I intend to use you well. For now, I have no desire to take your life and enslave you against your will. You have no idea of your true value."

Isaac narrowed his eyes. The word “for now” hung heavy in the air.

Beshek might be generous now, but if Isaac continued toward Holy Land Lua, there would come a time when Beshek would weigh the land’s sanctity against the worth of Isaac’s potential.

"You’re trying to win me over by being nice, hoping I’ll switch sides?"

"Not quite. More like ensuring you believe there’s no other option," Beshek said, his smile enigmatic.

"You’re in the Maze Valley now, aren’t you? Alone, ahead of your comrades, your friends, and your subordinates. Not just for your growth, it seems. You’re protecting them."

"Something like that."

"But consider this. What would you do if your army was about to be annihilated?"

Isaac glared at him sharply, his hostility unmistakable.

Beshek raised his hands in mock surrender.

"I’m not saying I’d slaughter them all. I, too, see their value and would welcome them under my wing. But what if the very ideals you’re fighting to protect turned against you?"

"The ideals I fight to protect?"

Isaac froze as the realization dawned.

"You mean... the Codex of Light?"

"Not impossible, is it?"

Beshek’s words struck deep.

Even angels could instantly recognize Isaac’s connection to Nameless Chaos.

For now, Isaac had secured his place by cooperating with the angels and following their commands.

But what if the Codex of Light one day decided to reject him? To brand him and those close to him as enemies?

"If the Codex of Light denounces me... "

Isaac couldn’t finish the thought.

He fought for order because he believed in it. But if that order turned against him and threatened those he cared about, what then?

He couldn’t say.

"And yet, I doubt your character would allow you to choose chaos."

Isaac chuckled bitterly.

"Is that what the Immortal Order is for, then?"

The Immortal Order thrived on unresolved regrets, fear, and remnants of attachment. It didn’t present a grand doctrine or belief system. Their obsession with bone and decay was more cultural than ideological.

They simply said, “Don’t die. Keep pursuing what you desire in this world.”

Isaac sighed, looking directly at Beshek.

"Be honest. I suspected you might be colluding with the Lighthouse Keeper."

Beshek laughed.

"In some ways, you’re not wrong."

Isaac didn’t flinch.

"What’s the Lighthouse Keeper’s purpose?"

"The same as mine," Beshek replied, his tone matter-of-fact.

He clasped his fingers together.

"To build a solid world where no one suffers the threats of mortality."