Paladin of the Dead God

“We had agreed to assist him. But for some reason, the captain who was supposed to lead the fleet committed sabotage… infuriating Luadin, who cursed our city and dried up the sea.”

Isaac understood Sadraza’s confusion and anger. He was a victim of the sudden devastation caused by Luadin’s curse. Sadraza would have no way of knowing why the captain had betrayed Luadin’s plan.

In fact, if the will of angels or the Caller had intervened in this incident, who could predict how Sadraza would react? Isaac decided not to complicate matters by mentioning it.

“…The Lighthouse Keeper may have dried up the sea, but he overlooked this temple’s underground passage. As a result, the Salt Path remained open. Although the water levels gradually receded, I was still able to commune with the divine essence.”

At this, Aidan straightened abruptly, his voice excited as he shouted in clumsy archaic language.

“Are you saying you can still communicate with the Caller?!”

This was a feat Salt Council captains risked their lives to attempt. They could only hear the faintest whispers from the divine by nearly drowning themselves, stepping one foot into the afterlife.

But Sadraza claimed he could effortlessly commune with the god through this temple.

“…I once could,” Sadraza admitted. “But mostly, what I heard were cries of pain and anger, from the Caller as well as the angels trapped below. In recent years, though, they’ve all fallen silent.”

Aidan slumped in disappointment, but Isaac sensed that Sadraza hadn’t yet revealed everything.

“So, did you find a way to release the god?”

Sadraza hesitated once more. Isaac resolved to smack him if he dodged the question again; sometimes physicality got the point across better than miracles.

“…I once considered human sacrifice.”

“Hm. Perhaps that beating is necessary after all,” Isaac muttered to himself. These ancient religions clung too readily to the idea of sacrifice. Was it impossible to change their fundamental beliefs?n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

Sadraza quickly continued, “It was only a consideration. Look around—there is no one here to sacrifice. But in the end, it turned out for the best. Rather than defile the god’s essence, I found another way.”

“Another way?”

“Nearby, creatures imbued with divine energy often appear. The Caller’s essence, left lingering here, serves as bait, attracting ancient gods and monsters. I… sacrificed those.”

Isaac realized what Sadraza was implying.

“You’re offering up abominable creatures from the Outer Reaches as sacrifices?”

“Yes. The Outer Reaches are populated with banished gods and monstrous beings, especially since the Lighthouse Keeper gained influence.”

“And yet, you don’t seem powerful enough to fight these creatures.”

“I don’t hunt them. When the Caller draws them near, the cursed sun kills them. I simply bring them to the fisherman’s home, perform the rituals, and offer them as sacrifices. That’s all.”

Isaac recognized that Sadraza’s method, while brutal, straddled a fine line of restraint. Although he was still sacrificing entities, they were vile monsters and ancient gods.

Destroying such creatures in the name of the divine was, after all, not uncommon. In fact, it was one of the primary duties of a paladin.

“I’ve spent centuries gathering the blood of these ‘intruders,’ waiting for the time when the god might awaken.”

“…”

“And as that time seemed to draw near, you appeared. I assumed you might be followers of the Lighthouse Keeper sent to prevent the god’s resurrection. So I hid.”

“Or you were hoping we’d collapse from exhaustion?”

“I won’t lie. Given my situation, wouldn’t you do the same?”

Had the Dawn Army fallen to fatigue and collapse, Sadraza would likely have sacrificed them as well. His avoidance of human sacrifice stemmed not from any moral qualms, but simply from practicality.

Yet Isaac scoffed coldly.

“A creature that devours people is no god. It’s a monster wearing a god’s mask.”

A thought crossed Isaac’s mind, and he asked, “Previously, a Dawn Army from the Codex of Light reached this area. They never made it to Miarma—did you ‘use’ them as well?”

Isaac was referring to the Seventh Dawn Army, who’d arrived at the Salt Desert only to turn back. Sadraza shook his head.

“Are you talking about that group I mentioned? They seemed almost obsessed with leaving no remains. They burned all the Armyes, and if they couldn’t burn them, they dragged them back to the sea. I couldn’t touch them.”

Having confirmed this, Isaac turned to Aidan.

“Would you mind if I discuss this with my comrades?”

Sadraza nodded. “As you wish.”

***

Isaac briefly summarized his conversation with Sadraza to Lianne and Cedric. They were astonished to learn that Sadraza was a priest from a thousand years ago, but even more so that he had nearly completed preparations to awaken the god.

Isaac explained the situation regarding those preparations.

“That explains the stench from inside the black pyramid.”

“What is it?” Lianne asked.

“It’s the rotting remains of the monsters and ancient gods Sadraza has sacrificed over the centuries, as well as the accumulated blood he’s channeled into the underground canal system.”

Lianne clicked her tongue in disgust. “And with the other end blocked by salt, that water has been festering, filled with decaying Armyes and blood, growing more foul with each passing year.”

At least, human blood had not been involved.

Isaac regarded this as a minimal reassurance. After a long silence, Aidan spoke up cautiously.

“Do you think Sadraza’s ritual has a real chance of succeeding?”

Isaac sighed, not because he intended to disappoint Aidan but because he foresaw a challenging road ahead.

“It’s not just a possibility—it’s likely.”

It was more than mere potential; Isaac was certain. Sadraza’s ritual closely resembled a modified version of the “Thirsty Feast,” a ceremony Isaac himself had been seeking to enact to restore the Salt Council’s glory.

(Continued)