Paladin of the Dead God
chapter-111

“You understood what the Drowned King said?”

Hyanis asked, eyes wide in disbelief. Isaac nodded.

Hyanis stumbled over his words before managing to speak, but his voice was drowned out by a much louder voice that filled the deck.

“Hyanis!!”

A ship much larger than the Brave Salmon had approached so closely it seemed they might collide.

A woman on the ship was shouting at the top of her lungs.

The ship passed by, throwing hooks that latched onto the Brave Salmon in an instant. The crew pulled on the ropes, making the ship screech as if it were being pirated, which made Hyanis frown.

The woman with bronze skin jumped onto the deck. The Brave Salmon’s crew, seemingly familiar with her, did not intervene but instead greeted her with nods.

Ignoring the crew, the woman, with a cutlass drawn, approached Hyanis.

“Stay right there, you! I warned you, mess around and I’ll split your skull!”

“Sir Grail Knight, allow me to introduce you. This is Yenkos Hare, the chairperson of the Salt Council.”

The chairperson, a surprisingly young woman, did not seem to fit her prestigious title, but Isaac knew that title was not lightly earned. She had mastered various disciplines at the Imperial College and, turning down an offer to become a graduate student, dedicated her life to exploration.

Isaac greeted her with a nod. Yenkos flinched at the mention of “Sir Grail Knight,” a title Hyanis had deliberately used, suggesting she behave modestly in the presence of a Grail Knight, as discussing human sacrifices was not an option.

Consequently, Yenkos appeared somewhat deflated, as Hyanis had intended. She reached out her hand, then realizing she was still holding her cutlass, sheathed it.

“I’m Yenkos Hare.”

“Isaac Issacrea.”

Isaac deliberated on his tone, opting for formality out of respect for her title. Yenkos scrutinized him, arms crossed.

“So, the renowned Sir Grail Knight, what brings you to these stinking seas? Though, having seen that large figure earlier, hiding it won’t do. Do you have business with our angel?”

Tension was evident in Yenkos’s demeanor.

The prospect of Isaac knowing about the human sacrifices was intolerable, yet attacking a Grail Knight, particularly one as popular as him in the Codex of Light, was daunting. Moreover, Yenkos had witnessed, even from afar, Isaac cutting through the mermen on the sea.

Even if she resolved to throw Isaac overboard, it would undoubtedly not be an easy task.

Isaac decided to alleviate her concerns.

“The Drowned King demanded human sacrifices, I heard.”

But first, he decided to tease her a bit.

As expected, Yenkos looked as if the sky had fallen.

Her gaze shot towards Hyanis. Before Yenkos could split Hyanis’s head open with her cutlass, Isaac continued.

“However, I suspect that the demand for human sacrifices might be a misunderstanding. That’s why I warned Captain Hyanis not to act rashly.”

“A misunderstanding?”

Yenkos looked like someone who had been plunged into the abyss and then pulled back out. Observing her extreme shifts in expression was amusing, but Isaac was now bracing for a barrage of focused questions.

“A misunderstanding, wait. So, you’re aware of what the Drowned King said? We only recently finished interpreting it. How do you speculate those words to be a misunderstanding? Is this the stance of the Codex of Light, or your personal stance?”

Hyanis seemed equally curious about the answer. Isaac summarized his response to the question.

“I can understand what the Drowned King says. Let’s have a conversation.”

“You can understand the ancient language?”

Yenkos’s disbelief prompted Isaac to simplify his explanation.

“I’ve studied the ancient language before.”

“But isn’t it strange to claim understanding from studying? Reading, maybe, but understanding spoken language?”

“Didn’t Chairperson Yenkos also interpret the Drowned King’s words?”

“Yes, interpretation, not conversation! I can read and write the characters in real time too. The method of reading characters doesn’t change even after hundreds or thousands of years. But if you speak with the pronunciation or intonation of a thousand years ago, only a person from that time could understand it; anyone else could only guess!”

Isaac felt he understood her point.

Even people from 50 years ago spoke differently, let alone from the Joseon Dynasty compared to Isaac’s own era. How much more so for a language used by angels a thousand years ago?

This meant Isaac might be one of the few, aside from the angels themselves, who could directly understand the ancient language. Instead of further evasions, Isaac chose to wrap his ability in mystique.

“There were reasons for it. But those reasons aren’t important, are they?”

After all, demonstrating it in person would suffice. The issue, however, was trust in Isaac.

Without the ability to verify his truthfulness in real time, there was a limit to how much they could take his word for it.

Yet Yenkos could press no further.

If there was even a chance that Isaac could converse with the angels, providing translation, then they could move beyond unilateral revelations to actual ‘dialogue,’ much like priests of other faiths.

Seeing Yenkos wavering, Isaac decided to throw in another piece of bait.

“Let’s start by translating what the Drowned King said earlier. I assume everyone heard it.”

Hyanis and Yenkos nodded. The voice had been so booming that even Yenkos, who was farther away, had heard it.

“While releasing the sea monsters, he said they were pitiable creatures. You can verify the original words through Captain Hyanis and his crew.”

Leaving that remark, Isaac was about to leave when he seemed to remember something and asked, “Do you know why the Drowned King said that?”

***

“Pitiable creatures.”

The angel had referred to the sea monsters, nearly monsters in their own right, with these words.

This fact troubled Isaac.

The Drowned King was not known to be particularly compassionate or lenient, especially not towards monsters rather than humans.

During the time when the Salt Council was part of a vast empire, their significant influence was partly due to the Drowned King’s fearsome deeds.

“Empathy? A sense of shared history with the sea monsters?”

When Isaac inquired why the sea monsters were considered “pitiable creatures,” Yenkos responded:

The sea monsters were once humans transformed by the power of ancient gods, growing gills and webbed limbs. They developed their own civilization under the sea but have been in decline since the era of the Codex of Light, becoming monsters incapable of dialogue.

The sea monsters and the Salt Council shared a history filled with similarities yet harbored mutual hatred.

Perhaps the Drowned King felt a kinship with their parallel histories.

The Salt Council was declining, and while they might not become monsters like the sea monsters, they were almost certainly going to live out their existence without their god.

Creak.

Opening the door, Isaac saw a young priest jump up, fear evident in his eyes, clutching a dagger. Realizing the young priest might have misunderstood the situation due to the ships outside, Isaac reassured him.

“We’re not here to capture you. Put the knife away.”

Recognizing Isaac, the young priest relaxed and almost collapsed as he put down the knife. Isaac wondered what story lay behind this young priest, who had been appointed by Bishop Juan to “speak on his behalf.”

But first, he had to check on Bishop Juan.

“Bishop.”

Bishop Juan was lying in bed, turned away. The vigorous man who had been lively discussing “ways to make money” on the way down the hill was nowhere to be seen.

“Seasick, maybe?”

“Do you also find me pitiful?”

Isaac was taken aback, then recalled that he hadn’t used a miracle when he was asked earlier.

It seemed Bishop Juan felt either inferiority or defeat after Isaac took action while he was left on the ship. Understandably, everyone had been expecting the bishop’s miracle.

Isaac hadn’t been overly concerned, but seeing Juan so dejected made him wonder if there was a deeper issue.

In this world, he had learned that miracles not occurring was as common as erectile dysfunction, especially the more powerful ones. It could be due to a wavering in faith or perhaps having fallen out of favor. Even Hesabel, with her noble lineage, had times when she couldn’t use her miracles at will.

However, Isaac soon realized that Juan hadn’t even recited a prayer.

“Bishop Juan, are you unable to perform miracles?”

Bishop Juan’s shoulders twitched. He then straightened up, as if making a firm decision.

“…There’s no excuse. Yes.”

Isaac was speechless. A bishop who couldn’t perform miracles was unheard of.

A bishop is among the highest-ranking priests in the Codex of Light, second only to the pope, and is expected to perform powerful miracles and blessings.

“Blind and deaf indeed. Isn’t that an apt description?”

Isaac couldn’t help being stunned. What about the creation of the Luadin key, wasn’t that a kind of miracle?

“So, then…”

“Talking about the Luadin key? That’s different from miracles. Every Sword of Judgment is cloaked by the heavenly light to prevent it from showing indiscriminately. It only twists that cloak to reveal a bit of the light to those deemed worthy.”

Juan explained, sensing Isaac’s confusion. Changing the Sword of Judgment into the Luadin key was not about ability but eligibility, and naturally, as a bishop, Juan was eligible.

Juan lightly rubbed his fingers towards a candlestick by the bedside. Without any prayer, a flame naturally arose, lighting the candle. It seemed he was not entirely unable to perform miracles, just unable to perform the more powerful, higher-order ones.

“Given my position, necessary miracles are mostly taken care of by the acolytes, and nobody doubts me even if I don’t lift a finger. While other bishops might be dispatched to battlefields or disaster areas… I’ve been tasked with more important matters.”

Isaac understood why Juan had been focused on ‘political’ matters like money-making and sanctification.

Juan had no choice but to prove his ‘necessity’ in such areas. He was bound to face criticism, but Juan had to cling more to the Codex of Light to prove his worth.

‘Wait, so this man is now useless.’

Honestly, an old man’s search for self and retirement issues were none of Isaac’s concern.

The problem was that Bishop Juan, whom Isaac had somewhat considered a reliable(?) force, had turned into an incapable old man. In the middle of the sea, facing potentially mutinous crew and the world’s largest angel, this was an unexpected variable.

“…Why the Codex of Light has taken my ability to perform miracles is beyond me. Though I’ve fallen, so have many other priests, and without me, the organization would struggle to function…”

“Hold on, Bishop. Have you told anyone else about this?”

“Eh? Oh, no. It’s just us in this room.”

Isaac glanced at the young priest. The boy seemed trustworthy enough not to be a concern.

“For now, keep quiet about this. Announcing the bishop is powerless in the midst of heresy benefits no one.”

“Powerless?!”

Oops. Isaac realized he had accidentally spoken his mind and hurriedly tried to cover it up. He patted Juan on the shoulder, whispering.

“I’ll say the incident earlier was due to seasickness. We can’t reveal the mighty powers of the Codex of Light for mere fish-catching, so I, the hunting dog, was unleashed. That’s the truth, isn’t it? Should you, a bishop, be bothered with such fishy matters?”

“Is, is that so?”

“Yes! Even if you could perform miracles at such times, you shouldn’t. Continue to show the dignity of a bishop of the Codex of Light. You are needed now more than ever.”

Isaac’s eloquence left Juan in a daze, but Isaac’s charisma shone even in this moment.

The respect and support of the crew for the revered Grail Knight infused Juan with a peculiar strength.

Juan asked timidly, “Is that really so?”

“Of course! You might yield before an angel or the pope, but not before these sailors! After all, they dragged us here against our will!”

“Right… that’s true!”

“That’s the spirit! You’re the best, Bishop!”

***

“It’s tough.”

It was not emotionally easy to cajole a man nearly seventy years old. But it was a necessary task.

Isaac felt a stronger sense of fatigue moving onto the deck than when he had been slicing through the sailors.

Now, he had to face an entity even older than the seventy-year-old man.

Roughly over 930 years old.

“Drowned King, let’s have a talk.”

Isaac opened his mouth, locking eyes with the Drowned King, who shone aquamarine eyes above the water.