Paladin of the Dead God

The mention of the White Owl sent a chill through Isaac.

He suddenly realized that all the key figures responsible for the White Owl’s purge were present: the Burning Maiden, the Sword of May, and Kalsen Miller, though technically still residing in his stomach.

While the Sword of May was currently shielding him, Isaac couldn’t be sure if she would continue to protect him if she knew he was the child of the White Owl.

Fortunately, the Sword of May didn’t seem swayed by the Burning Maiden’s accusations. Calmly, she repositioned Kaldwin, signaling she had no intent to fight.

[Are you certain? Is he really the White Owl’s child?]

The Burning Maiden’s seven eyes rolled in different directions as her radiant gaze examined Isaac. Each beam of light cast shadows that shifted and morphed, defying the natural laws of light. Though there should have been seven shadows, they flickered erratically, sometimes increasing or decreasing in number and density.

It felt as if she was probing every hidden corner of Isaac’s soul, using her light to reveal his deepest secrets.

In front of the Burning Maiden’s relentless gaze, no secret could remain hidden. But despite her efforts, her expression grew sour as she glared at the Sword of May.

[Don’t interfere, Arte.]

The Sword of May wasn’t just protecting Isaac’s body; she was also guarding his inner secrets. Isaac couldn’t fathom why she was going to such lengths for him.

Her response to the Burning Maiden was calm but sharp.

[I asked you if you’re certain, Isboseth. You shouldn’t be rummaging through a person’s soul without evidence. You weren’t this disrespectful in life, as far as I remember.]

[…He’s definitely tied to the Codex of Light. And if any of us had left behind offspring, it could only be either Elil or the White Owl. But Elil’s child was female, so that rules him out.]

The Burning Maiden spoke of Nephilim with disdain, as if they were animals.

[White Owl or not, it’s undeniable he’s a Nephilim. To let one grow to this extent is a failure of the Inquisition. Do they no longer understand what’s truly dangerous?]

[Isaac has served the Codex faithfully, producing remarkable results. It’s not right to execute him solely for being a Nephilim.]

The Sword of May’s argument was measured and reasonable, but to the Burning Maiden, an inquisitor who believed in eradicating evil at its roots, such logic didn’t hold weight.

She locked her gaze directly on the Sword of May, her anger palpable. Isaac felt an intense heat building in his forehead, though no physical harm came to him.

[You foolish knight. Are you suggesting we return to the barbaric times when gods and humans mixed freely, breeding like animals? Nephilim are nothing more than abominations, creatures born from the union of pigs and humans!]

The Burning Maiden’s fury was unmistakable.

Her reaction was, in fact, the typical response of angels toward Nephilim. Nephilim invoked a visceral, instinctive disgust in angels. Even if this disgust was planted intentionally, it didn’t change its strength.

In hindsight, Isaac realized how unusual it was that he had been treated with a measure of leniency until now.

[Nephilim easily sway people, gathering followers wherever they go. Do you understand how dangerous that is? They seduce humans, build faith in themselves, and lay the foundation for rebellion! Nephilim are a plague!]

‘So that’s why,’ Isaac thought, finally grasping why the gods wanted to eliminate Nephilim. The Nephilim’s greatest weapon wasn’t their ability to steal miracles or their striking appearance—it was their natural charisma, their ability to draw people to them.

In this world, faith was the force that kept everything in motion. A Nephilim was a living challenge to divine authority.

Merely prohibiting their existence wasn’t enough to stop them from appearing.

So, someone clever had decided that birthing a Nephilim should be considered a grave sin, a shameful act. They had implanted a deep-rooted disgust for Nephilim, ensuring that even the thought of creating one was abhorrent.

The fear of Nephilim was ingrained so deeply that no one dared to give birth to them.

***

“What’s happening in there?” Eiden asked, his voice trembling as the Salt Council’s fleet halted its bombardment, watching the sudden bright light shining from the heart of the Milishar Monastery.

He already had a sense of what was happening but found it difficult to voice aloud.

“…An angel has descended,” replied Chairperson Yenkos, her voice strained. She was crouched behind the railing, trying to hide, though no one could blame her for it. Most of the crew had retreated into the ship’s cabins or were preparing to abandon ship entirely, so Yenkos was one of the braver souls.

“I already told you this might happen. No need to panic,” Eiden tried to reassure her.

“But if the angels are here to capture Sir Isaac, what could we possibly do? We can’t even speak to the gods!” Yenkos said, her thoughts fixated on Isaac, who was somewhere within the monastery.

“We can offer him courage. We can give him hope.”

“…That sounds like we’re doing nothing at all, Chairperson.”

“Let’s not be too blunt, Captain Eiden.”

But Yenkos was, in some ways, sincere. As both the Chairperson of the Salt Council and a priestess, she knew more than most about the mysteries of Urbansus. She also understood that prayer wasn’t simply a wish for blessings.

So, Yenkos prayed earnestly. She prayed that someone would come to Isaac’s aid.

***

Despite the Burning Maiden’s fury, the Sword of May remained calm, tilting her head slightly as she studied her fellow archangel.

[I don’t care what you say. Isaac is under my personal protection. You should know what that means.]

[It means nothing. I will burn this seed of sin before it can sprout.]

As the Burning Maiden’s words echoed, a strange emotion stirred within the Sword of May—an odd sensation for an angel, but one that felt familiar.

It was irritation mixed with malice.

[Really? Because from where I’m standing, it seems like you’re just jealous of Isaac.]

[What?!]

The flames surrounding the Burning Maiden flared up even more violently, but the Sword of May continued speaking without a hint of hesitation.

[You were the White Owl’s prized disciple, weren’t you? You even organized the White Owl’s teachings. Based on those teachings, you led the internal reform movement and founded the Inquisition, didn’t you?]

[Silence!]

[Are you sure your obsession with Isaac isn’t just jealousy? You were once the ‘favorite student’ of the White Owl, but maybe the fact that she left a child behind stings a little, doesn’t it? I can’t think of another reason for your fixation on Isaac.]

Isaac couldn’t help but be intrigued by the exchange. Was the Burning Maiden truly the White Owl’s top student? From what he knew, the White Owl had likely ascended to become an archangel long before the Burning Maiden, which meant she must have been taught by the White Owl after she became an angel.

It was a rare occurrence—an angel taking on a human disciple.