Paladin of the Dead God

Chapter 146:

Under Bashul’s informal guidance, Isaac’s skills improved rapidly.

Isaac already possessed remarkable swordsmanship, but his techniques were more a collection of improvisations honed through real combat rather than any formal style. Gabel had only taught him the basics before sending him off, likely hoping he would grow on his own.

Indeed, thanks to absorbing the monstrous talent of Kalsen, Isaac could ‘devour’ the sword techniques of every swordsman he encountered, enhancing his own skills. This allowed him to defeat paladins, undead, and even angels.

Isaac’s enemies were more often monsters than humans, which somewhat validated Gabel’s approach.

However, Bashul, a traditional swordsman, seemed unimpressed.

Clank, thud. After parrying Isaac’s ferociously delivered strikes, Bashul spoke with a frown.

“Your intent to kill is too palpable. I understand you want to dispatch your enemies quickly, but you should try to temper it.”

“Given my profession, most of those I encounter… I don’t expect to see them again…”

Perhaps because he lived by the rule that anyone who discovered his secret must be killed or brainwashed, his swordsmanship was as laden with murderous intent as his tentacles. It was no wonder his Sword Energy manifested as a saw-like tearing force.

“Unrestrained murderous intent will only exhaust you and can harm both yourself and those around you. Your Sword Energy is as conspicuous as it is unique. You need to learn to control it.”

Swoosh, whoosh, slice.

Isaac and Bashul’s blades narrowly missed each other and then collided. Even amidst the savage Blade Rip Sword Energy that Isaac unleashed, Bashul’s blade remained calm.

And unlike previous clashes, which had shattered upon impact, his blade remained still and tranquil, glowing faintly blue.

Isaac’s blade vibrated violently and was pushed back. Eventually, unable to withstand the force, it was flung backwards. Seizing the moment his arm was raised, Bashul swiftly thrust his sword between Isaac’s shoulder and neck.

Isaac collapsed to the ground. It was his twentieth complete defeat.

Despite improving daily while facing Bashul, Isaac still couldn’t see a clear path to victory using swordsmanship alone. Every time he thought he had caught up, Bashul moved a few steps ahead; just when Isaac felt he was getting close, Bashul would demonstrate an even more profound mastery.

Yet, Bashul clicked his tongue while looking at Isaac.

“You’re growing terrifyingly fast. Are you a monster?”

“…That’s rich coming from someone who’s taken down a few monsters himself.”

“Now I’ve figured out all your habits and tricks,” Bashul said frankly. “Honestly, you won’t be able to defeat me unless you throw away everything you’ve learned so far. Even if you were personally trained by Elil himself.”

Unlearning everything he had gained so far was not a simple task.

Isaac thought it absurd that Bashul could suggest such a thing with a straight face, given how hard he had worked to acquire his skills.

Bashul raised a finger.

“Your problem is that you always try to win by trickery. Tricks can become your weaknesses if discovered, and I’ve already figured out all of yours. So, none of your tricks will work on me anymore.”

He raised a second finger.

“As I mentioned before, your murderous intent is too obvious. It makes your moves transparent. You try to cover this flaw with tricks, but anyone of a decent skill level won’t be fooled more than once or twice. You need to control that murderous intent.”

With a stern look, Bashul continued.

“A madman flailing a sword might kill one or two people, but he’s quickly subdued. A soldier who fights with controlled, emotionless precision can kill all day long. If you must kill, do it with dignity and poise like a civilized person.”

Isaac understood what Bashul was saying. However, all these flaws were essential for his survival in environments where he could not afford witnesses.

His deceptiveness and bloodlust were instincts he couldn’t afford to lose.

Now, to discard them was not a simple matter. No matter how much he had climbed, his fundamental nature hadn’t changed.

“Yes, it’s not easy. If you were my subordinate, I’d beat that stupidity out of you, but since you’re a fellow warrior, I can’t just manipulate you with guilt or threats.”

Isaac was taken aback by Bashul’s harsh words.

Was this his true nature, or had he reverted to his old battlefield mentality?

Isaac felt a renewed urge to kill Bashul.

‘I could kill him right now with a miracle…’

“You’re thinking of tricks again,” Bashul muttered incredulously. Isaac glared at him.

“Stop it if it bothers you.”

“How can I? The Imperial Guard reacts instantly to any perceived threat.

Remember when Rene interrupted our fight in the garden? She sensed our intent to kill and thought it better to intervene before anything serious happened.”

That frivolous lady had such deep insights?

After all, even a courtier in the Imperial Guard was among the empire’s elite.

“Fine. I won’t blame the tricks anymore. But you should tone down the murderous intent before your dispatch as an envoy to Elil.”

“Why?”

“It looks unseemly. It’s very important in the Kingdom of Elil.”

Isaac hoped it was a joke, but Bashul’s face showed no sign of amusement.

Isaac pondered how to mask his murderous intent or repackage it without changing it, feeling frustrated.

‘Can’t I change this habit of resorting to tricks first?’

“And when it’s time for you to die, make sure you do it alone. Your murderous intent might drag others into it.”

Bashul’s words made Isaac think of the tentacle monster.

Isaac harbored a fierce desire to swallow the world rather than disappear into death. Perhaps he was already influenced by those tentacles.

Bashul spoke up to this point and sheathed his sword. Isaac frowned at this action.

“Where do you think you’re going? The assassination attempt isn’t over yet.”

“…It seems you’ve forgotten my position. I’m the chief knight of the Imperial Guard. I can’t be away for long. His Majesty the Emperor cherishes you, so I only came out under the pretense of overseeing your swordsmanship training.”

Isaac couldn’t object when Bashul invoked the Emperor. Reluctantly, Isaac decided to let Bashul leave for today.

“And I doubt that my teaching you anymore will significantly improve your skills. You’ve improved too quickly.”

“I still don’t see any chance of beating you?”

“That’s only because I have fully figured out your habits. As long as you only fight with a sword, even if you become stronger than me, you won’t be able to beat me unless you undergo a radical change.”

Essentially, Bashul was saying that he had taught Isaac everything he could in just a few days. Isaac wondered if he really had become that strong, but there was no way to confirm it.

After all, Bashul had always decisively defeated Isaac.

“And from tomorrow, those ‘assassination attempts’ will also be impossible.”

“Why? Got scared for your life?”

“No. His Majesty the Emperor is returning to the capital today.”

***

It was only natural for the Imperial Guard to move with the Emperor.

Isaac, who had finally met a worthy sparring partner, felt disappointed. He had wanted to solidify his swordsmanship skills before departing for the Kingdom of Elil, but it seemed he hadn’t overcome his critical weakness yet.

Isaac swung his sword alone a few times, still unable to gauge his level of skill for when he would be in Elil.

“Bashul, just how strong is he really?” Isaac wondered. It seemed like Bashul might have been a peer or of similar rank to Gabel in the past, but his skill appeared several times greater. Considering that Gabel had retired to a monastery, the difference was too great.

Bashul was indeed a knight of the Imperial Guard, but he could be at the level of a high-ranking commander in the Paladin Order if he used sword energy.

Even if miracles did not intervene, the difference between those who could perform them and those who could not was stark.

Bashul was a top-tier swordsman in the continent by skill alone. However, if miracles were involved, he could be matched or even surpassed by some commanders of the Paladin Order.

Isaac’s strength varied significantly whether he used the tentacles or not.

But Bashul was also a follower of Elil. If he actively used the miracles of Elil, he would be among the top ten in the Gerthonia Empire.

“Why isn’t such a person a named character? What exactly happened?”

“Sir Paladin, swinging your sword like that alone can develop bad habits,” said another knight, Rene Lomerk, who approached Isaac. It seemed she had packed her things following Emperor Waltzemer’s move, sporting proper armor and weaponry unlike when they first met.

“Bashul, the chief knight, has already pointed out my bad habits,” Isaac replied.

“My, Bashul did? He usually only gives praise.”

“He said he would have broken my stupid skull to remodel it if possible. Did he also accuse me of using my pretty face to manipulate others?”

“Oh, my, oh my.”

“We seem to have many secrets.”

“Oh my, oh my, oh my.”

Rene blushed and covered her mouth.

Isaac felt satisfied that he had successfully tarnished Bashul’s reputation as a kind-hearted chief knight. If he couldn’t win with his sword, he would win with his tongue. He hadn’t lied, after all. Now, Bashul would be seen as a rude person who made comments about appearances.

However, in Rene’s mind, entirely different rumors were forming, but Isaac had no way of knowing that.

A modest but luxurious carriage made its way out of the mansion’s back garden. Imperial Guards and some cavalrymen appeared to be part of the escort, forming an impressive procession.

The only way an Emperor with notable horns could travel incognito was this.

“Looks like the Emperor didn’t tell us why he visited secretly,” Isaac thought. Could it be that he just wanted a casual meeting with Duke Brant, his cousin?

At the front, Bashul gestured to Rene, who climbed onto a horse prepared for her with a meaningful smile.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Sir Paladin! Maybe next time we can meet with Lady Isolde!”

Without much further ado, Bashul turned away. Isaac hadn’t expected much more.

Isolde also participated in the meeting, likely to avoid drawing too much attention if the entire ducal family appeared.

The Emperor’s movements were always discreet and guarded. Before moving the carriage, Waltzemer slightly opened the window and nodded to Isaac.

“I’ll send the appointment soon. It won’t take long.”

“Understood.”

Isaac was relieved to hear this. Balancing between the Church and the Royal Court was critical for his survival and influence.

As the back gate opened with a heavy sound, Isolde squinted at something in the alley across the street where the Emperor’s carriage was passing by,an old man sitting in a spot not usually chosen for begging.

“Is there something odd?”

“No, it’s just a feeling… Isaac, something feels ominous?”

Isolde disliked acting on vague suspicions, as that could easily lead to mistakes in her role as an inquisitor.

But Isaac knew her ‘feelings’ were usually well-founded. She possessed the heart of the prophet of the Red Flesh, and the Red Grail Club specialized in assassination and conspiracy.

The word ‘assassination of the Emperor’ flashed through Isaac’s mind.

As the carriage sped up towards the alley, Isaac instinctively sprang forward to intervene.

–TL Notes–

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