Paladin of the Dead God

Chapter 15: The Inquisitor (1)

In truth, carrying firewood was more akin to labor than actual exercise. However, muscles built through such labor were often more practical for real-life situations than muscles built purely for appearance, which could hinder movement and reduce endurance.

“Hmm…”

Gebel tapped here and there on Isaac’s body, examining him.

“Why are you doing that?”

Isaac, having caught his breath, asked.

“You recover your breath quickly, and your muscles are growing at an unusual rate. But it’s odd how you can easily lift a heavy axe and then tremble under the weight of a few logs. It’s hard to predict.”

“…I don’t really understand it myself.”

Gebel didn’t particularly suspect anything. He was already convinced of Isaac’s maturity and saw no reason to doubt him. He was merely curious about the conditions under which Isaac exhibited his extraordinary strength.

But now, Gebel’s attention was focused elsewhere.

“That’s not a problem. Your physical strength is developing remarkably fast. It’s astounding. To think your muscles could grow this much in just a week.”

To Isaac, he didn’t notice much difference, but Gebel saw it differently.

‘It must be because of the tentacles.’

[Dead God’s Intestines / ‘Devour’ a portion of the opponent’s abilities and characteristics.]

[Flesh Storage / Accelerated regeneration until the devoured opponent is digested.]

The ‘Flesh Storage’ ability rapidly digested its prey while significantly enhancing healing speed. And this applied even after a whole day of physical training, leaving his body exhausted.

Muscle growth worked like this: First, exercise would break down the muscles. Then, they would heal, becoming bigger and tougher than before.

This cycle led to larger, stronger muscles. With the help of the Flesh Storage ability, Isaac could undertake more strenuous and bold exercises without the fear of injury.

Thanks to this, Isaac’s muscle growth accelerated.

Moreover, the ‘Dead God’s Intestines’ significantly boosted this efficiency. His body was visibly improving.

Isaac was pleased with Gebel’s evaluation.

‘Great, great. It feels like I’m finally reaping the benefits of being in this other world.’

Everything was going smoothly.

Training under Gebel, a former vice-captain of the Paladin Order, and learning miracles and hymns from the monastery head, Isaac was sure of a stable life ahead. The monastery head didn’t suspect him, and he was being strongly pushed towards becoming a Paladin. What was there to worry about?

He just needed to rise through the ranks within the order and then lead the Dawn Army to reclaim the holy land.

***

Time flew by.

Isaac spent his days under the full support of the monastery head and under Gebel’s guidance.

Meanwhile, he also carried out missions for the Nameless Chaos, enhancing his tentacle abilities. Using tentacles within the monastery was still risky, but Isaac managed to walk this tightrope successfully.

The nutrients from the tentacles and Gebel’s swordsmanship guidance synergized beautifully, rapidly improving Isaac’s skills.

Thus, Isaac’s third winter in this body arrived.

It was a rougher winter than he had anticipated.

The snow began falling earlier than usual, blanketing the forest surrounding the monastery. Thanks to the winter preparations Isaac and Gebel had diligently made during late autumn, the monastery was more than ready for the season.

In the midst of the snowflakes, Isaac stood in the monastery’s backyard, sword raised above his head.

Two years of training had transformed his body. Muscles had developed on his once thin limbs, and his face now bore the marks of a young man, though he still appeared slender. Nevertheless, his growth was impressive compared to before.

Even without swinging the sword, just holding it up, Isaac’s body was covered in beads of sweat. Despite not making a single move, the snowflakes melted before even touching him due to the heat radiating from his body.

Suddenly, Isaac’s eyes flashed.

The sword moved even before he thought of swinging it.

The blade’s trajectory cut sharply through the air.

Whoosh! The sound of the wind being sliced echoed sharply, sweeping the accumulated snow around. Isaac finally exhaled deeply, as if releasing his breath with force. Sweat poured down like rain.

‘This seems to be the limit my stamina allows.’

The cursed blood of the Nephilim hampered Isaac during his sword training. However, he was able to compensate for this to some extent through the Devour perk.

‘Is this the limit of the physical capabilities of the Nephilim race? The barrier of racial limits seems higher than I thought.’

The exact extent of this limit was unclear. But to attain greater strength and endurance, he would need to look towards magical means or miracles.

‘Advanced swordsmanship could cover for this level of stamina, but…’

Isaac felt he had reached the limits of his swordsmanship potential. Despite not learning from Gebel, he

had glimpsed beyond his current level. This ‘beyond’ was not just a feeling but could be quantified.

Isaac’s gaze drifted to the void.

[Low-Level Paladin Swordsmanship Proficiency (Lv 99) (999999/999999)]

[Conditions not met for the next stage.]

Since being permitted to wield a sword, Isaac had not missed a single day of training, far surpassing the training period of the swallowed Kalsen Miller. Precise execution of movements provided more experience than mere repetition.

Thanks to this, Isaac had successfully maxed out his swordsmanship training.

But that was half a year ago.

Whenever Isaac tried to go ‘beyond,’ his body instinctively stopped just before the limit.

Either he was too exhausted, or he was certain his body couldn’t handle it.

‘Advanced swordsmanship… That must be like a skill.’

In the Nameless Chaos, ‘swordsmanship’ was classified as a skill, like magic or miracles. Though fewer in number, they were indeed a different category of skills.

Just as a mage uses mana and a priest performs miracles in exchange for worship, swordsmanship consumes stamina. In games, this is portrayed as HP consumption, but the reality could be different. Using skills beyond one’s capacity could shatter the body.

It meant Isaac’s HP could drop to zero.

‘…Surely I won’t be unable to use it for my whole life?’

The worry crept in, but it wasn’t yet so dire that he had to rely on someone else. If it came down to it, he thought he might manage somehow with the Devour trait of the tentacles. He needed to restrain himself from swinging his sword until he understood the ‘unmet conditions.’

‘Do I have to become a real Paladin?’

Ideally, he would learn advanced swordsmanship from Gebel, who had already demonstrated it. But even as he thought this, Isaac had long given up his desire for advanced swordsmanship or proficiency.

Gebel had explained long ago why he wouldn’t teach advanced swordsmanship.

‘As one advances in knightly swordsmanship, it becomes more dazzling and complex. High-level swordsmanship can sometimes produce effects like magic or miracles.’

Isaac had become adept at executing the movements Gebel taught, surprising even himself.

Even the fastidious Gebel was at a loss for words. A 14-year-old boy was handling the sword as skillfully as a veteran who had spent decades on the battlefield.

‘Each order of knights pursuing the way of the sword has its own secret techniques. They all claim to be the best, but it’s hard to judge superiority, as each has reached its level through research and effort.’

What if Isaac started learning and using advanced swordsmanship?

‘But even grown adults often struggle with it, leading to runaway attacks or injuring themselves.’

Isaac’s young body could be injured, or worse, torn to pieces.

It wasn’t impossible.

Even in reality, beginners often get hurt attempting difficult movements. While these don’t produce magical effects, the ability to perform superhuman movements is similar.

In this world, magical occurrences are possible.

Isaac knew better than anyone that he couldn’t use advanced swordsmanship right now.

‘And above all, the Avalanche Swordsmanship must not be recklessly revealed.’

‘Can I learn it if I join the Avalanche Paladin Order?’

“That’s possible. But it’s unlikely to happen. The Avalanche Paladin Order doesn’t exist anymore.”

Isaac wondered if Gebel’s refusal to teach him was because of this reason, but Gebel hadn’t flatly refused to instruct him. Instead, he carefully observed Isaac’s execution of all movements except the advanced sword techniques.

Gebel meticulously adjusted and repeated the basic sword skills as if tuning delicate machine parts. Sometimes he taught variations or unusual movements and ways to alter the sword’s trajectory, but in the end, it was mostly the same movements every day.

So after two years, Isaac was still repeating these basic moves.

Cutting, thrusting, striking, blocking.

The movements he had repeated over the years with a focus on precision and power were now so ingrained in his muscles that he could feel a snowflake landing on his sword tip.

Isaac sighed and lifted his sword again.

He had completed his training for the day, but driven by a strange compulsion, he raised his sword once more. His breathing was still rough, and his muscles trembled as if in a spasm.

‘One more time.’

Isaac had let go of his longing for advanced sword techniques. What he sought was no different from wanting to increase the number of push-ups he could do. He didn’t want to regret not being able to swing his sword just one more time in a crucial moment.

‘The tentacles are… a last resort.’

If he didn’t want to be chased as a monster, he shouldn’t recklessly use the tentacles when cornered.

Isaac forced his breathing to steady and aimed the tip of his sword at the air.

This time, instead of simply refining a movement, he imagined a hypothetical enemy. He had done similar training many times before, starting with a wild boar, then Gebel, and eventually Kalsen.

But his current opponent was neither human nor monster.

It was the Nameless Chaos.

Or, more precisely, himself unleashing a barrage of tentacles.

The strongest being Isaac had ever faced wasn’t the wild boar, Gebel, or Kalsen.

It was himself.

When imagining his tentacles overflowing and engulfing the world with their ferocity, Isaac felt terror.

He couldn’t help but think about how he would confront such a being or what he would do if he became that being.

Of course, at his current level, he would be hopelessly defeated.

‘But still, once more…’

Though he had been crushed and decapitated hundreds of times in his imagination, Isaac moved his sweat-drenched body once more. Again, he felt the tentacles striking down on him.

That moment, his sword moved strangely.

Having repeated the same movement thousands of times, Isaac was acutely aware of the change. He felt as if his sword had wriggled and bent for a moment.

‘What?’

It was a simple thrust, a short distance, but Isaac’s sword evaded the trajectory of the tentacles and struck the imagined enemy precisely.

Ping.

Isaac came back to his senses. The imaginary enemy had vanished, and before him was only empty air. He couldn’t understand what had just happened.

The sword had bent at an impossible angle.

Like a tentacle.

***

‘This is…’

Thump. Before Isaac could fully grasp the situation, he heard Gebel’s voice from behind.

“You’ll catch a cold.”

Isaac, startled, lowered his sword. Fortunately, it seemed that Gebel hadn’t seen that movement.

‘Fortunately?’

Isaac didn’t understand why he thought of it as fortunate. But he felt like he had done something that shouldn’t be discovered. He attributed this feeling to a premonition instilled by the tentacles. He had often relied on such intuitions when performing actions that ‘shouldn’t be discovered.’

While Isaac was putting on his clothes, Gebel looked at the traces around them and asked.

“Have you been doing this since dawn?”

“Yes.”

Isaac had special permission to start training from dawn, unlike other kids. Though he couldn’t miss the other prayer and mass times, the monks, knowing he was fully supported by the monastery head, accommodated him at all other times.

“You’ve been told that it’s okay to ease up on the sword training now.”

Gebel seemed to be aware that Isaac’s swordsmanship had plateaued. Although Isaac was discontent with not being taught advanced techniques, he understood why Gebel said ‘it’s okay to ease up on the sword training now.’

“Try reciting the Prayer of the Fire Seed.”

Ironically, this was precisely why Isaac persisted with his stagnant sword skills.

With a reluctant expression, Isaac began to recite the prayer.

“O, ever-present one in all places, guide of the blind lighthouse keeper…”

Tick, tick!

Flames sparked from Isaac’s fingertips, casting a bright light. But like a flickering flame, the light quickly faded as swiftly as it had appeared.

As it had been for the past few years.

Gebel stroked his chin and murmured.

“Remarkable.”

“What’s remarkable?”

“You have such talent in swordsmanship and undeniable devotion, but it’s remarkable how little talent you have for miracles.”

“Isn’t that normal?”

“Usually, those who get the chance to learn prayers are sure to have both faith and talent. I think I succeeded in the Light of the Beacon miracle in half a year.”

Isaac felt a sense of despair. Nephilim, his race, was known for high faith, so he hadn’t worried much about miracles. Instead, he was more concerned about swordsmanship and physical training.

But the outcome had been the exact opposite.

‘If I gained swordsmanship talent from devouring Kalsen, shouldn’t I have also acquired his miracle talent?’

Isaac felt like complaining to Kalsen.

The prayer he had just recited was one of the basics, the Light of the Beacon miracle. Yet, despite being acknowledged as a mature individual by the monastery head and Gebel, Isaac couldn’t successfully perform any prayer or hymn.

A paladin unable to perform a single miracle was no different from a mere knight, perhaps even more suspect.

‘…Is it because of the tentacles?’

The Nephilim’s racial trait doesn’t hinder miracles. Their high faith is considered as usurping divine miracles, so they can perform them as long as they know the prayers and methods.

The only plausible cause could be the Nameless Chaos.

It might be hindering his ability to perform miracles.

Isaac looked at his palms, pondering. He had received countless aids from the tentacles so far. Without them, he wouldn’t have the healthy body he had now.

In fact, he had survived several near-death situations thanks to the tentacles.

However, the Nameless Chaos is a deity openly opposed by the Codex of Light.

It might be impossible for Isaac, harboring a part of that deity, to wield the miracles of the Codex of Light.

‘Then, could I use a different type of prayer?’

For instance, prayers worshipping the Nameless Chaos…