Chapter 131:
Chapter 131. The Brant Family’s Concern (4)
As Isaac stepped out of the room, Hesabel was waiting there.
Seeing the subtle expression on Hesabel’s face, Isaac frowned.
“Did you hear?”
“Well, you were talking to the Mirror Handmaiden, right? I didn’t hear exactly what the Mirror Handmaiden said, but I did catch that you were making a lot of noise in the room. Even with just that, I can guess what it might have been about.”
Isaac let out a deep sigh.
“So, do you think the same way?”
“Well, Lord Isaac, I was once an enthusiastic follower of the Crimson Grail Club too. Even there, such miracles are not unheard of. Sometimes they’re used to improve the fortunes of married couples.”
“Those decadent vampires can use miracles however they want. Are you prepared for the ritual?”
Hesabel pursed her lips but didn’t say anything further. However, it was clear that her thoughts weren’t much different from the Mirror Handmaiden’s.
If they obtained Isolde, they could definitely sway Duke Brant to their side.
In other words, they could solve most of Isaac’s current problems.
Convincing an Inquisitor was a different league from recruiting a single interrogator. Moreover, Isolde didn’t seem entirely indifferent to Isaac, and Dietrich Brant also held a favorable view of him. So, there shouldn’t be any issues, at least from Isolde’s side.
The problem lay with Isaac himself.
“Create a person to love, bear a child, and raise them in this world?”
It was an absurd notion. Something he hadn’t even imagined.
Even when envisioning a golden future of prosperity in this world, he never once considered having someone by his side for a lifetime. While he could imagine the land he ruled flourishing, fields full of crops, he never pictured someone smiling at him or someone he loved.
It was an impossible task, and even if it were possible, it shouldn’t happen.
[“The Nameless Chaos is watching you.”]
Isaac staggered and leaned against the wall.
He could feel Hesabel’s strange gaze upon him.
“Your aversion is abnormal, you know that?”
The Mirror Handmaiden’s words echoed in his mind once again.
But what could he do?
If he were to create someone to love, bear a child, and raise them…
“Maybe I’ll become too immersed in this world…”
Keeping a distance from the world.
That was the only basis for Isaac to hold onto his sanity, even after being reincarnated into this nonsensical world.
Eating dead mice, killing people, facing ancient gods, and even resisting the fatal allure of miracles in the afterlife—all of it was possible because he maintained that distance from this world.
[“The Nameless Chaos is watching you.”]
That message.
Thanks to that message, Isaac could enjoy this world as if it were a game, not real life.
A game he could play while perpetually reincarnated. That was just right.
If the world he lived in now were not a game but reality, Isaac wouldn’t have been able to handle everything he had done and still needed to do.
Keeping a distance from the world meant he was more of a character than a person.
But if someone to love were to appear…
“That won’t happen.”
Isaac thought such foolishness would never occur.
***
Hesabel drew a simple circle with the extracted blood and laid Isolde within it. Isaac knelt beside Isolde’s head within the circle, awaiting the ritual. The Doctrine of Thirsty Love that still clung to Isolde continued to tempt him relentlessly, but aside from a throbbing headache, it was bearable.
“Begin.”
Hesabel held the Rite of Division and began reciting the prayer. Normally, interfering with a blessing bestowed directly by an angel, especially one involving sharing a piece of flesh, would require complex preparations. However, the Rite of Division bypassed all those steps.
Hesabel began tracing the circle with the Rite of Division. Following the line, the red blood on the floor started to rise into the air. More blood than what was spilled gradually formed a curtain, surrounding Isaac and Hesabel, and soon they were trapped within the surging veil of blood.
‘We’re in.’
As if a bubble had burst, the curtain instantly flowed down and disappeared. Isaac found himself in the corridor of a citadel made of red stone. The citadel was twisted into a geometric structure that shouldn’t exist normally, appearing as a building that should have collapsed long ago.
‘Is this Rougeberg?’
Although the structure and form were completely different from what Isaac remembered, the overall atmosphere and architectural style resembled Rougeberg. If he were to dream with Rougeberg as the background, it would probably look like this. This was Isolde’s hometown and home, so it wouldn’t be strange to dream about it.
Isaac began walking down the corridor, searching for Isolde. People who appeared to be servants frequently caught his eye, but he didn’t speak to them. Their faces were all blurred like fog, making it seem impossible to communicate.
The corridor was complex but connected as one, so there was no risk of getting lost. Then Isaac heard music coming from the direction he was walking.
Beyond a thin curtain, Isolde was performing a sword dance.
Unlike her usual attire that tightly covered her entire body as an Inquisitor, she was now half-naked. What little she was wearing didn’t even function properly as clothing.
The humming sound of her humming was as sweet as a fragrance.
Isaac stopped for a moment and watched her. No, he couldn’t help but watch. The captivating dance of her enchanting body was enough to numb his reason faintly. It was a mesmerizing sight that captivated all who saw it, regardless of gender.
‘Is that the form of the Doctrine of Thirsty Love?’
It felt distasteful because it was an outfit Isolde would never wear. Soon, Isolde’s dance began to slow down. Isaac regained his composure and reached for the Luadin Key.
But at that moment, the feeling in his hand was unfamiliar.
The sword he wore at his waist was not the Luadin Key.
He had two curved swords, one longsword, and three daggers hanging from his waist.
One of the dagger sheaths was empty, and Isaac knew where the missing dagger was.
Isolde’s slowing sword dance came to a complete stop. Despite the intense dance, she didn’t seem to have shed a single drop of sweat.
“Were you trying to compare a dancer and a general?”
Isaac spoke towards Isolde, or rather, the thoughts left by the Prophet of the Red Flesh.
She smiled and approached him. The dagger in her hand, which she had been using for the sword dance, was none other than the Rite of Division.
The only dagger missing from Isaac’s waist.
“Not a bad analogy, is it, Grail Knight?”
Isolde, clearly containing the will of the Prophet of the Red Flesh, spoke.
“Rougeberg was the territory of General Elil. So Isolde grew up listening to the terrifying legends and myths surrounding Rougeberg as a girl. Her older cousins would tell Isolde erotic stories about dancers seducing Elil.”
Just as Elil is called the General or Overlord instead of his name, another nickname for the Red Chalice is the Dancer. The current scenery depicted the past of Rougeberg.
He had thought it might be Urbansus, but it seemed like a dream space based on Isolde’s memories.
“Are you trying to compare the relationship between the general and the dancer to Isolde and me?”
“Elil held the whole world in his hands. Even angels could not oppose his might. Among the living, there was no one to rival him, and he became an angel while still in the flesh, eventually obtaining the most beautiful woman in the world. It’s a position envied by all ambitious individuals, wouldn’t you say?”
“Considering that the beautiful woman was his own daughter, and he had to betray the Codex of Light for that, he’s just a madman.”
Of course, the apparent reason for the rise of the Elil faction was the corruption of the Codex of Light and its ‘cowardly actions’ in the war against the ancient faiths. The Elil Church firmly believed that it was only right to split to uphold honor, but the Codex of Light Church firmly believed that Elil split to remarry his own daughter.
“It was 700 years ago. It wasn’t a big deal back then. Even the Red Chalice loved Elil.”
The Prophet of the Red Flesh, who served that very dancer, didn’t even deny it.
She flaunted her body, revealing it to Isaac.
“Of course, this woman is not as beautiful as the Red Chalice. Compared to the Red Chalice, all beings in the world are like comparing a ruby to tick fluid. But a generous dowry, an army, and power…”
“Haaaaaaaaaa…”
Isaac sighed deeply before the Prophet of the Red Flesh could finish her sentence. The Prophet of the Red Flesh, whose words were cut off, frowned at Isaac.
“Is that all you guys have to say? Considering how Elil and the dancer ended up, shouldn’t you avoid using that analogy?”
Isaac poured out his lamentations at the tiresome demands and pressure.
“No, and why are the guys here so clueless? If you call someone over and say, ‘Now, you two kiss,’ do you think they’ll just say, ‘Yes, I understand,’ and do it?”
The ending of this historical incestuous couple concluded with the dancer ripping out Elil’s heart.
Elil, who had become an angel in a living body and ascended to the ranks of a Martial God, finally died and became a true god. The dancer also awakened as the Red Chalice through Elil’s heart.
This bloody ending didn’t seem like a happy one.
“No, wait, come to think of it, you did this on purpose, didn’t you? First, you’re linking me to Isolde, and then you’re going to rip out my heart?”
However, the Prophet of the Red Flesh simply shrugged.
“Marital relationships are naturally complicated.”
“If that’s all you have to say, just die here.”
If he hadn’t heard similar things from the Mirror Handmaiden or Hesabel, he might have listened to more of the story. But now Isaac had no more patience left.
He immediately drew the sword in his hand.
As if reacting to the threat, soldiers made of lumps of blood began to seep out one by one from between the bricks around them.
Isaac had already heard from Hesabel how to weaken the blessing.
The Red Flesh resisted in its own way, but with its limited power and limitations, it was no match for Isaac. The blood clot soldiers were torn apart in an instant, and only Isolde remained in the middle of the bloodstained hall. And even as the Red Flesh’s thought-form, she had no abilities beyond Isolde’s physical body.
Crack. The Luadin Key split Isolde’s chest in one stroke.
It was just a dream space, not reality, and merely a process to weaken the power of the Red Flesh. But Isaac felt disgusted.
Centered around the split wound, Isolde’s skin peeled off like a shedding shell. And from within, another Isolde appeared. She had a hazy expression, as if she were both asleep and awake.
Soon, the walls of Rougeberg began to crumble. As the Red Flesh’s blessing weakened, the ritual began to end.
“Ah…”
At that moment, Isolde blankly reached out her hand.
Caressing Isaac’s face, Isolde muttered in a daze.
“My angel.”
“…It’s been a while since I’ve heard that nickname, Inquisitor.”
–TL Notes–
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