Paladin of the Dead God

Chapter 368: The Shattered Ground of Life and Death (5)

The moment Isaac uttered the name, an indescribable weight crushed him.

Amundalas had assured Isaac that his elevated stature meant he would no longer be completely overpowered by an angel. But the presence before him reduced him to nothing more than an insect.

The pressure was suffocating. Isaac could barely twitch a single finger.

Then, Angela picked up a stick and poked at the campfire, scattering sparks into the air. The oppressive weight eased slightly. A moment later, Beshek’s voice echoed, tinged with an almost apologetic tone.

[My apologies. I was just a bit startled that you identified me so quickly. You truly live up to your reputation as the Grail Knight.]

Isaac wasn’t thinking about seizing an opportunity; instead, he felt overwhelmed by the sudden realization that the final boss of the Immortal Order stood before him.

The crushing aura had made one thing clear: there was no way Isaac could defeat Beshek.

In the game, even capturing the Holy Land Lua required elaborate rituals, angelic intervention, and countless resources. It wasn’t about defeating Beshek—his defeat was simply not an option. He was a figure to be avoided, evaded, and outlasted.

Fortunately, Beshek spoke in a calm, almost conversational tone.

[Since you’ve come to my domain, I thought it might be a good chance for a brief chat, Isaac.]

Isaac carefully sat down next to Angela.

[Not surprised?]

“You already helped me once in Miarma, didn’t you?”

Isaac glanced at Angela as he spoke. The day he’d fallen into the sea near Miarma, Angela had spoken for the first time, insisting they needed to save him. At the time, Isaac had thought a previously unknown angel had intervened to assist him, but there was no point searching for a phantom in Golden Idol.

Angela had another faith entirely—she was insured by the Immortal Order and eligible for their protection.

“I had suspected Angela might be connected to one of the Order’s angels, but I never imagined she was tied directly to the Immortal Emperor Beshek.”

Beshek adjusted the hood over his head with gloved hands. The firelight did nothing to illuminate his face—it was shrouded in impenetrable darkness. Perhaps there was nothing to see at all.

“Why did you help me back then?”

[I don’t believe I helped you directly. Wasn’t it Amundalas who saved you?]

“Even so, the fact remains that you attempted to help, especially when Angela was your only point of influence at the time.”

Beshek fell silent. Though Isaac couldn’t see his expression, he had the distinct impression Beshek was smiling.

[You’re certainly different from other followers of the Codex. No human has ever acted or spoken as you have in my presence. Perhaps it’s due to your maternal lineage?]

Isaac resisted the urge to retort, “How do you know about my mother?” Instead, he thought of the White Owl.

In this world, Isaac’s biological mother was the White Owl—a lucky man (or angel) had shared her bed. Isaac didn’t know much about her, nor did he particularly care.

“I have no idea who she was.”

[I see. Yet, in many ways, you remind me of her.]

Isaac sensed Beshek was avoiding something, but he decided not to press. Instead, he wondered if being compared to an angel tied to the Codex—or worse, the Nameless Chaos—was truly a good sign. After all, both were sworn enemies of the Immortal Order.

[But as I mentioned, I didn’t come here to share memories of her. I’m here to discuss matters of mutual interest.]

“You’re not interested in my head, are you?”

[Unless you’re considering insurance or conversion? The doors of the Immortal Order are always open. We could even offer you a commander’s position immediately.]

Both knew they were joking, and the conversation carried a lighthearted tone.

Despite his divine nature, Beshek felt oddly approachable, perhaps because he was one of the youngest gods—or because he still maintained a mortal body.

***

[Long ago, a great calamity struck this land.]

After some idle chatter, Beshek shifted to the main topic.

“A calamity?”

[Yes. Centered around the Holy Land Lua, countless people perished in less than a week.]

But now?

He had acquired enough power to survive. Even without the Codex of Light, he could enjoy wealth and prestige under another faith. Yet, fighting to reclaim the Holy Land Lua meant diving headfirst into an inferno of danger.

The answer was clear.

"To reclaim the Holy Land Lua."

Beshek tilted his head slightly.

[Why? Lua is now nothing more than an uninhabited ruin. Its value lies only in faith and relics. Is that reason enough to throw countless lives into its recovery?]

The Codex of Light fought for the Holy Land to usher in the Millennium Kingdom. But if Isaac reclaimed Lua instead, what then?

The realization hit him.

“Wait...”

Isaac realized he had blindly clung to the idea of reclaiming Lua without questioning why. It was an unquestioned premise—a compulsion to survive that he hadn’t bothered to examine critically.

[Allow me to provide the answer.]

Beshek’s voice broke through Isaac’s thoughts, his tone steady and deliberate.

[‘Pressure.’ The world’s collective will presses upon you, making you see immeasurable value in what is, in truth, nothing.]

The Pressure of Urbansus.

Isaac’s expression hardened at the concept.

Urbansus, the accumulation of past experiences, memories, and wills, shaped the present. Beshek claimed that centuries of reverence for the Holy Land had exerted immense pressure on Isaac, the most revered "hero" of this age, compelling him to focus on Lua.

[This is how gods manipulate humanity.]

Beshek’s voice dripped with scorn.

[Precious lives are thrown into pits like flies. Is there any sacrifice more meaningless? All of it stems from the gods wielding control over the afterlife.]

Isaac retorted sharply, "You speak as though you’re not a god yourself."

Beshek let out a low laugh, but it faded quickly, replaced by a solemn tone.

[At the very least, I strive not to act like one. That is why I dragged the afterlife into this world. Here, at least, people are free from the ‘pressure’—they can live as they choose.]

Excluding, of course, the slaves and zombies forced into labor.

Isaac chose not to point out the obvious contradiction. He understood it well enough. Beshek’s acceptance of that contradiction revealed his pragmatic nature—he wasn’t some deluded idealist.

Isaac exhaled deeply.

"I understand your point. I even believe you acted with good intentions."

Beshek remained silent, as though he had anticipated Isaac’s response.

"But I cannot condone a world where no one dies. I won’t abandon the Dawn Army. I won’t stand by and let the Immortal Order’s territory expand, nor let humanity be turned entirely into undead."

[So, you think a world where everyone dies is preferable?]

Beshek tilted his head slightly, his gaze falling on Angela.

[Even her?]

His gesture made Isaac bristle with anger.

"Are you seriously threatening her life? After being the one to curse her, suppress her mind, and drag her here in the first place?"

[Angela is not cursed.]

Beshek did not react with anger to Isaac’s accusations. His voice remained calm.

[She saw something in the Holy Land that she should not have. Her soul and body were on the brink of annihilation. To protect her, I had to seal her memories completely. The restrictions had to be severe due to the complexities involved.]