Paladin of the Dead God

Chapter 357: The Thirsty Feast (7)

Sadraza trembled with rage, provoked by the offensive words that struck a nerve.

[You worm!]

Sadraza swung his tentacles down to crush Isaac. However, Isaac, having set the Luadin Key in place, drew forth the holy sword Kaldwin.

Isaac dashed across Sadraza's body with ease, leaving a bright trail of red blood in his wake. Unlike his previous battles with the Outer Boundary creatures, this time, Isaac was beginning to dismantle Sadraza's very form.

Sadraza directed dozens of tentacles at him, intending to crush him beyond escape. Confident that no creature could slip through the gaps, he was taken aback as Isaac skillfully slipped through without a scratch.

Isaac even managed to slice off several of Sadraza’s tentacles with Kaldwin as he passed.

[─────!!]

Sadraza was horrified as he watched his blood spill freely.

Though he thought himself accustomed to the agonies of a thousand years of starvation, thirst, and isolation, such raw pain was almost unfamiliar. Having only ever fed on decaying flesh while waiting for enemies to collapse on their own, the struggle was foreign to him.

Not even in his battles against the Outer Boundary creatures had he sustained such severe injuries.

[I am empowered with the authority of a god and the strength of an angel! How could a mere human like you—!!]

Isaac did not dispute Sadraza’s claim to angelic power. Though he lacked the angels’ greatest ability, the manipulation of Urbansus, Sadraza’s strength was comparable to that of an angel.

It was just that he had encountered the wrong opponent.

Just as Isaac and Dera Heman were not well-matched, Isaac and Sadraza were also at odds in terms of compatibility.

“I happen to know a fair bit about tentacles.”

Isaac had trained meticulously, anticipating the movements and attacks of tentacles. To him, Sadraza’s movements were nothing more than the sloppy, feeble strikes of an amateur swordsman.

With a twist of Kaldwin, Isaac charged over Sadraza’s body again. The powerful blade cut deep into the very flesh of Sadraza’s tentacles. As the unstoppable edge of Kaldwin approached Sadraza’s throat, he screamed, thrashing in pain.

In his panic, Sadraza realized a new aspect of his power.

In reflection, he remembered that he had once been a priest.

Part of his severed tentacle twisted into a strange shape, rapidly drying out and transforming into solid salt. These dried salt-tentacles lunged at Isaac.

Sensing an instinctual unease, Isaac struck the salt-tentacles with Kaldwin, deflecting them.

At that moment, one of the Outer Boundary creatures intruding into the fisherman’s house collided with the salt-tentacle. In an instant, the creature dried out as though its fluids had been drained, crumbling into dust.

Watching this, Isaac scoffed.

“So, you’re even abandoning your essence now?”

[What do you know!]

Anyone could see it was a heretical miracle, opposed to the Salt Council.

There was no trace of his faith’s former devotion to the bounty, mystery, and origins of the sea. Now, all that remained to him was the barren salt desert and wilderness.

Reflecting his thoughts, Sadraza’s body began to turn a stark white from the ends of his tentacles.

[The Salt Council? They’re nothing but deserters who’ve forgotten tradition! Do you think they have any real connection left to this holy city? How many have heard the blessed voice, or seen the mysterious temple beneath the sea?]

Sadraza’s form grew smaller, but in exchange, he was transforming into a figure surrounded by a more potent, angelic power. Noticing this heightened danger, Isaac created some distance between them.

[Only I remain! Only I survived! I am the sole survivor, the descendant of the Sea Cult! I am the fisherman, the one who bears the roe, the one with the swim bladder, the one who returned to the sea!]

Sadraza roared his exultant declaration, transforming from a crude, monstrous form into a shape he considered divine.

[I am the new god of the Sea Cult!]

Isaac gave a cold smile.

“Well, well. Fancy meeting a fellow traveler here.”

Of course, Isaac had no desire to claim godhood himself. Becoming a god was not to his taste. He couldn’t sympathize with the sordid ambitions of this twisted figure before him.

Either way, Sadraza’s life was on a timer.

Aidan would be preparing to end it all.

***

Inside the depths of the maw, Aidan and the sailors who had followed him were drenched in cold sweat, preparing for the ritual.

Around them, due to Isaac’s hold over this sanctuary, everything had transformed into pulsating tentacles, nerves, tendons, and a beating heart. Although Isaac had tried to brush it off by saying “it seems Sadraza has done some strange things here,” they all sensed the truth.

They could feel Isaac’s ominous yet potent power thrumming within this sanctuary.

However, for now, that power wasn’t attacking them but instead was providing a reassuring, protective energy.

“Captain Aidan, are you sure this is alright?”

"…Do you think we would have even made it this far without the Dreamer’s blessing? The grace we've received from him knows no bounds. If he’s leading us to Hell, then we ought to clasp his hand and charge forward."

Aidan proceeded with the ritual, combining his crude knowledge of ancient rites with the steps for the Thirsty Banquet that Isaac had explained. However, cobbling together a ritual based on hastily absorbed knowledge from the past few days was far from ideal.

Thanks to Sadraza’s initial setup, there was at least a faint stirring of energy, but nothing more. The ritual stalled, unable to proceed further.

“Check if there are any mistakes in the corrected prayer inscriptions where we adjusted Sadraza’s profane text—”

“Uh, Captain Aidan…”

“Hmm?”

At that moment, one of the sailors pointed nervously. The prayer inscription Sadraza had carved—what had once been nothing but flesh-like stone—was writhing and reshaping itself, rearranging the letters.

Where parts of the incantation had been incomplete, blood-red veins emerged, forming the missing words.

Though the sight was grotesque, once the letters reformed, the prayer read as a normal incantation. The profane text that Sadraza had embedded had been corrected.

Aidan felt cold sweat bead on his brow. It was clear that this sanctuary was acting on Isaac’s will, assisting them.

The sanctuary’s help didn’t end there. When Aidan misspoke a prayer, a low hum echoed, providing the correct phrasing. If he misplaced a ritual tool or handled it out of order, the fleshy walls adjusted themselves to guide him back on track.

At one point, when Aidan repeated a mistake, a tentacle emerged and slapped his rear, leaving the crew caught between laughter and disbelief.

Finally, through a series of arduous adjustments, the ritual began to progress.

But soon, Aidan encountered an obstacle.

“We… we’re short on offerings.”

Having solved problem after problem with the sanctuary’s help, Aidan instinctively called out into the air. Sadraza had drained so much power from the area that there wasn’t enough blood or remains for the ritual.

As uncertainty and dismay filled the air, a sailor abruptly stood up.

“Captain Aidan, use my body as an offering.”

“What?!”

“Our Order has awaited this day for a thousand years. We nearly failed because of that idiotic priest, but now we have the chance to finally set things right!”

Following his declaration, several other sailors rose as well.

“Relying on outsiders to get this far is shameful enough. If we fail here, there’ll be no honor left to salvage!”

“Yes, Captain! Please, take my body—!”

“Shut it, you fools!”

As the sailors clamored, Aidan shouted and kicked one of them.

“Do you think we follow the gods just to throw our lives away the moment things get tough? We believe in gods for our own sake, not to die for theirs! Don’t any of you remember what Isaac said outside?”

Chastened, the sailors fell silent.

“Isaac said that if a god feeds on humans, then it’s not a god—it’s a monster! And from that moment, there’s no longer any reason to worship or respect it! Would you give your lives to a monster?”

The sailors quieted under Aidan’s scolding.

Breathing heavily, Aidan refocused on the altar. Truthfully, he himself was tempted to offer his own body, especially thinking of Isaac fighting for his life outside. The chance to cleanse the Salt Council’s shame with his own hands was indeed meaningful.

But his experience following Isaac had closed off that path.

At that moment, he noticed the red, flesh-like walls of the sanctuary pulsating.

Soon, an opening in the wall gaped wide, and a rush of dark crimson blood poured into the chamber.

The sailors stared in awe at the grotesque, ominous sight. For a brief moment, Aidan wondered if the sanctuary was sharing its own blood with them, but as he felt the potent divine energy fill the room, he realized it was something else.

“It’s the fluid spilled by the Outer Boundary creatures.”

The sanctuary was drawing in the blood from the depths of Miarma, collecting it from all corners and channels underground and funneling it into this space.

***

Clank, clank, clank.

Sadraza grotesquely twisted his joints, reassembling his form.

No longer resembling an octopus, he took on a shape resembling a sun depicted in ancient murals. His crimson face, nearly ten meters in diameter, sat at the center, and pure white salt tentacles spread outward like spokes from a wheel, extending from top to bottom.

Some of the tentacles touched the ground, giving his form a bizarre, almost comical appearance. Yet Isaac found himself struck by a strange thought.

“Is that your idea of the ‘most powerful form’?”

As he gazed at Sadraza’s transformed appearance, Isaac recalled one of the Outer Boundary creatures he had once hunted within the game—a creature known as the “Red Priest” that he had to defeat to shatter the salt desert. The creature had looked exactly like Sadraza now.

In the end, Sadraza, weary of waiting, had attempted to carry out the cursed ritual under the blood-red sun, only to be exiled from the city.

Back then, Isaac had found the creature laughable. But now, he could see the cursed sun’s outline hovering over Miarma.

A fiery red heat radiated outward, bringing barren wastelands and salt to wherever it touched with its cursed hand.

In his desperation over the centuries, Sadraza had come to mimic the same cursed power that had destroyed his cult, his country, and his neighbors.

Isaac now understood where Sadraza’s true devotion lay.

Luadin had not only destroyed his city and order; it had utterly shattered the priest’s mind.

[■■■, ■■■■…….]

Sadraza began muttering incomprehensibly. It was not the foul language or archaic speech of the Outer Boundary creatures.

It was simply a language stripped of any structure.

“So, you’ve even lost human speech, you fool…”

Isaac got to his feet. He hadn’t been idly waiting while Sadraza transformed. Isaac wasn’t nearly that noble or patient.

Since Sadraza’s life was already on borrowed time, Isaac had been drawing on his own strength to hold his ground.

‘So, the sanctuary serves this function as well.’

The Nameless Chaos’s sanctuary that lay beneath Miarma had spread its veins throughout the city and the subterranean water channels, draining all the blood into its depths. Part of that energy flowed into Isaac, while another part channeled down into the maw beneath the black pyramid.

The blood Isaac had absorbed belonged entirely to those under the domain of Nameless Chaos.

The divine power contained within that blood was now greatly enhancing Isaac’s own strength. Sadraza began moving toward him, brandishing sharp tentacles and wreaking havoc on his surroundings. Buildings crumbled like leaves, breaking down into salt.

Finally, Sadraza drove a tentacle toward Isaac with blinding speed.

Crunch. Yet the salt tentacle halted in Isaac’s left hand. Sadraza flinched but soon sneered, assuming Isaac would soon be a salt pillar.

However, what actually happened defied all expectations.

From Isaac’s left hand, crimson tendrils emerged, creeping up and crushing Sadraza’s salt tentacle as they ascended.

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