Chapter 119:
“O light, please lift the shadows cast before my path…”
Juan, trapped in the cabin below the deck, could only pray.
He couldn’t forget the disaster earlier when dozens of ships had soared into the sky and shattered to pieces. The deafening noise that made his ears ring, the ships wrecked in mid-air, and the fragments of people scattering seemed to appear before his eyes whenever he closed them.
Juan had already been overwhelmed by the power that an angel could wield.
Powerlessness.
The feeling of helplessness that humans could do nothing before this immense being had seized him. If given another miracle, if there was divine help, he would have supported Isaac in any way possible. But now, with nothing left but his skill at counting money, there was nothing he could do.
Nothing but shivering and praying to escape this predicament.
‘Why?’
Though he was reciting prayers with his lips, inside, he was screaming. It had been a long time since he last heard an answer to his prayers. Now, he was not so much earnestly wishing as he was protesting against this irrational tragedy.
‘Why do you put me through such trials?’
God is supposed to give humans only the trials they can overcome. But Juan painfully felt that his survival was merely due to luck.
There is nothing humans can do before this immense violence.
Unless they are chosen to stand against this trial.
Suddenly, Juan looked up and out the window. The sky was still covered with thick clouds, and a storm was raging, with the Drowned King appearing no less immense beneath it.
With tear-filled eyes, Juan looked at it and felt a sense of wonder.
He saw a flame flickering like a candle through the rolling waves.
‘Could it be?’
He staggered to his feet and headed for the deck. A young priest, looking defeated, tried to hold him back, but he didn’t look back.
The Brave Salmon was moving away from the Drowned King. It was fortunate enough, but Juan couldn’t find the person who should rightfully be there.
Isaac, who had gone out to sea earlier, was nowhere to be seen.
“Where is Sir Issacrea?”
Hyanis, who had been staring intently at the distant sea, turned around.
“Where is Sir Isaac Isaacrea?”
Without a word, Hyanis pointed to the distant sea.
In the midst of the storm, beneath the massive body of the Drowned King, a pitiful flame was burning.
Juan watched it intently.
“Isaac.”
He whispered hoarsely.
“The Knight of the Holy Grail.”
***
The Drowned King listened to Isaac’s declaration, silent for a long moment.
But Isaac hadn’t expected to sway the celestial being. Angels, with their acknowledged strength, faith, and deeds, rarely changed their minds. Isaac had merely reminded himself why he endured this suffering.
Yet the Angel surprised him.
“Yes,” it finally spoke. “Your words hold truth.”
Isaac stared, disbelief washing over him. Angels rarely conceded. Perhaps there was hope yet.
Yet, the Drowned King was already amidst a tumultuous transformation.
Isaac’s words were, in fact, the very laws the King had upheld for a millennium.
Despite this accord, the King extended his tendrils towards Isaac.
Actions and words diverged, but Isaac, undaunted, dashed across the waves.
Crack, snap.
Just before collision, Isaac propelled himself into the air, driving his left hand deep into the King’s leg. The immense pressure of the air crushed down on him.
Instead of being flung away, Isaac clung to the leg, thrusting his tendrils deeper inside,
In an instant, Isaac had to dodge the tendrils that swooped down upon him.
“Stop behaving like a parasite and draw your sword, Isaac.”
The Drowned King muttered, noticing Isaac had once again consumed a part of his flesh. Had he lived on land, he might have likened it to a mosquito, but such memories had long been forgotten.
“Well, it’s not much different, really.”
Whoosh! The Drowned King, now unconcerned with appearances, spewed ink. The jet-black mist obscured Isaac’s vision in an instant. The ink, more than just a cover, enveloped Isaac’s entire body, rendering him blind.
Amidst the ink fog, the sound of tearing air reached him. Isaac could sense the tendrils, capable of shattering his body in a single blow, rushing towards him.
“It’s about time.”
Isaac sharpened his senses. Suddenly, within the dark ink, the movements of the King’s body and legs became vividly clear to him.
The leg surging up from directly below was real.
Boom! The moment Isaac recoiled backward, the seawater exploded, and the King’s leg burst forth.
The Drowned King couldn’t help but be surprised. Isaac had shown agile movements before, but this was unexpectedly swift.
The astonishment continued.
In the darkness, where visibility was near zero, Isaac reacted swiftly as if predicting the King’s movements. Not only that, but he cleverly entangled the paths of the legs, causing them to hinder each other.
The King felt an odd anxiety about Isaac’s movements and urged him.
“If you wish to enforce order, then put away those hideous tendrils and draw your sword!”
“You wield tendrils yourself… but indeed, you’ve slowed down.”
Isaac realized that despite the King’s appearance of vitality, he was not in perfect condition. It was clear that the attacks from the Salt Council and the forced destruction of the Fisher King’s net had dealt significant blows to him.
The net of the Fisher King, an artifact originating from the King himself, had been destroyed by his own hands. It was akin to self-harm, destroying his very foundation.
Above all, the preparations Isaac had meticulously arranged until now began to shine.
Suddenly, Isaac spotted an opening in the King’s movements.
Between the waves, as high as his stature, and the menacing tendrils skimming the surface, Isaac found the intervals between the surges.
The Drowned King’s sole weakness lay in the cerulean glow of his eight eyes, and Isaac seized the opportunity.
The King sneered inwardly at the sight.
[You must be feeling just as impatient.]
Suddenly, a massive current appeared in Isaac’s path, a trap meant to ensnare him as he had no choice but to run across the sea’s surface.
The gap was deliberately left open by the King. Regardless of how Isaac predicted and evaded his movements, he couldn’t possibly have infinite stamina, not being an angel.
The King had opened this vulnerability intentionally, knowing that Isaac would try to end it before the Salt Council’s ships could distance themselves further.
It was far easier to trap and catch a bug than to chase it down with bare hands.
[If you insist on acting like a parasite instead of drawing your sword, then I shall treat you as such.]
The Drowned King readied his massive maw to swallow Isaac whole, while his tendrils prepared to strike him down in an instant.
But Isaac dove in even faster.
‘What?’
The King’s tendrils struck the water in vain. At the same time, he realized something was amiss with the world’s balance. Looking within, he was horrified.
His body was teeming with unidentified lifeforms.
They were the parasites from beyond that Isaac had implanted within the King’s body.
[Parasites from Beyond / Tendrils give birth to short-lived parasites under the skin of those they touch. The infected host suffers continuous pain.]
The parasites grew quickly and strongly, following the abilities of their host. Jihileth, born from the corpse of an ancient god, had become one of the most capable subordinates. And now, countless such parasites thrived within the Drowned King.
His massive body, full of parasites, made this possible. The Drowned King, who spent most of his time asleep, had no need to concern himself with the parasites within.
Until now, Isaac had predicted the Drowned King’s movements through the signals sent by these creatures. He had controlled them to miss by a hair’s breadth. And at this moment, they had temporarily subdued part of the Drowned King’s optic nerve.
The trap set by the Drowned King was as good as an open invitation.
Isaac rode the current created by the Drowned King effortlessly, reaching his brow with ease.
Before the Drowned King could react, a tendril shot from Isaac’s left hand, piercing the cerulean eye. Amidst the King’s enraged roar, Isaac, who had landed atop his head, murmured,
“Never mock a parasite again.”
***
“What in the world…”
As the cries that seemed not of this world echoed over the sea, the sails trembled. The sailors watched the battle unfold from afar with fear in their eyes, unable to discern what was happening.
They could only guess that the vivid scarlet light darting across the Drowned King’s massive form amidst the black ink fog was Isaac. Silently, they observed the battle, and involuntarily shuddered as they prayed during the King’s furious roar.
“It wasn’t an exaggeration,” Yenkos murmured, and most of the sailors, including Hyanis, shared the sentiment.
Rumors often exaggerate, but the feat before them was reality.
The Drowned King, who had shattered dozens of ships, was now screaming, unable to subdue a single man.
‘Could the ancient Elil have done the same? How could such a thing…’
Meanwhile, Juan gasped for breath, unable to fully witness the scene.
His sentiments were not much different from those of the Salt Council’s followers. He believed in the powers and miracles granted by the Codex of Light and that Isaac had vanquished the prophet of the red flesh. However, he was preoccupied with how to politically exploit the meaning behind it.
As a result, he had presented Isaac with the logic of a merchant.
‘Codex of Light, what have I done?’
Juan couldn’t lift his head in shame.
To the noble Holy Knight, money, land, or power meant nothing.
Only establishing the sublime order of Light on this land mattered. Offering land was akin to shackling the Paladin, no, the Saint’s ankles.
Juan wept, pondering how petty he must have appeared before Isaac.
He felt it was only right that he was stripped of miracles and faced such disgrace.
“Ah!”
At that moment, Juan heard the sailors’ distressed cries. He looked up to see what was happening.
Across the sea, the key of Luadin was faintly losing its light, ensnared by the giant tendrils.
***
Isaac began to devour the sacred body and soul of the Drowned King, tendrils embedded within. The hunger from the intense battle was satiated, fitting for an angel’s body. Just as he aimed to consume the King’s core, he felt an odd unease.
[The Nameless Chaos watches over you.]
Pop, pop, pop! At the sound of the warning alert, Isaac felt the parasites within the King burst forth. In an instant, he had concentrated his power and eradicated all the parasites within.
“Madness…”
In a desperate attempt to disengage and prepare for another bout, Isaac found himself ensnared by the Drowned King’s twisted gaze. With the mere force of his eyelids, the Drowned King had the power to bind Isaac’s hand.
Menacing tendrils loomed, advancing towards Isaac.
[Did you truly believe you could defeat an angel?]
Isaac was astounded by the immense power emanating from the King.
His belief in the Drowned King’s weakness was a misconception.
The Drowned King had merely been conserving his strength all along, preparing to ascend to godhood. It was no easy feat. Thus, he had not squandered his power in battle with Isaac but had reserved it.
Now, he chose to unleash even that reserved power.
[Those with faith perform miracles. Had you wielded your sword, had you continued the pretense of being a noble Holy Knight, perhaps the outcome would have been different.]
The King’s tendrils swiftly enveloped Isaac’s body. There was no consideration for sparing his life this time. The same force that could crush a massive ship to splinters now wrapped around Isaac.
The warmth of the Luadin key in Isaac’s right hand faded, and soon, it perished.
Crunch.
A chilling sound echoed from within the tendrils shortly after exerting force.
Simultaneously, the Drowned King let out another cry.
This time, it was neither a roar of victory nor a bellow of rage.
It was a scream of agony.
–TL Notes–
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