Paladin of the Dead God

Chapter 362: The Caller Calls (4)

Splash. A cold wave lapped at Isaac’s ankles before retreating.

As an irresistible impulse shook him, a repetitive message echoed in his mind.

[Come to me.]

Burble. The moment Isaac submerged his head in the water, a dark blue expanse unfolded before his eyes.

It was an infinite abyss where the seabed could not be reached.

Isaac immediately realized it was impossible for the shallow waters of Miarma’s coastal sea to have become this deep so suddenly. However, the call he felt didn’t allow for trivial doubts.

Beneath the unfathomable depths lay a vast salt desert stretching to the horizon.

It was a place where nothing could yet be born. Yet, countless sea creatures surged toward the enormous fissure within the salt desert.

From schools of small anchovies to massive whales, crawling crabs, and unidentifiable bizarre creatures, all were moving toward the great chasm. Bubbles roiled upward as a faint blue light emanated from within the crack.

[Come to me.]

The countless marine creatures, seemingly joyful, willingly offered their flesh to the call. For the first time in a thousand years, the Caller sated its hunger. Fresh flesh, blood, and bones restored its strength.

And Isaac, too, was among those summoned.

[Come to…]

Isaac felt a strange compulsion to answer the call with murmurs, as if he belonged there, and an urge to swim deeper into the call’s embrace.

However, no matter how much he flailed, he couldn’t reach the abyss. He merely circled in place, unable to touch the origin that gave birth to everything.

Because he wasn’t truly of this world to begin with.

Change always comes from the outside.

[Nameless Chaos is watching you.]

In that moment, the Caller’s pull on Isaac suddenly broke.

***

Burble.

When Isaac regained his senses, the vast abyss and the countless schools of fish vanished, leaving behind only the dark, quiet night sea.

Only then did Isaac realize he was floating in deep water, where his feet couldn’t touch the bottom.

He almost panicked but quickly kicked his way upward, swimming to the surface.

“Phew!”

Breaking the surface, Isaac exhaled heavily.

"What just happened? Did I answer the Caller’s summons?"

The summon was supposed to apply only to vassals. Isaac, despite possessing tentacles, was certain he wasn’t some apostle of an octopus or the incarnation of a squid.

As Eidan had mentioned, Isaac’s tentacles were far too alien to resemble those of a sea creature.

"The moment I used my skill and the summon activated… was it some kind of resonance?"

It might have been because he consumed the Caller’s flesh, or perhaps the Caller intentionally called to him. Either way, Isaac wasn’t sure. Considering that the Caller lacked consciousness, he decided it was unlikely to be malicious.

"I should head back."

Isaac began swimming back toward the shore. Swimming in the dark ocean instinctively stirred a deep-seated fear, but fortunately, he could see the faint lights of Miarma in the distance.

Yet, as he approached, something felt off.

"The fisherman’s house… was it always that color?"

The house, previously half-destroyed by Sadraza’s rampage and the monster invasion, was not only intact but gleamed with pristine white marble. It looked nothing like the sun-bleached, dusty ruin Isaac had seen before.

Inside, a massive fire seemed to burn, with carefully crafted gaps in the walls glowing with runes and inscriptions praising the sea. The sight was breathtaking and divine.

It wasn’t just the fisherman’s house. The entire city of Miarma was illuminated as if it were daytime. The desolated ruins had transformed into a bustling city filled with merchants and residents. Beyond the shore, over a thousand ships lay anchored, awaiting their voyages.

"Urbansus?"

Isaac wondered if he had fallen into another vision of Urvansus.

“No, that’s incorrect.”

A booming voice above him made Isaac’s heart pound.

Looking up at the pier, he saw a young boy in priestly robes, a gray-haired female captain, and Amundalas. Isaac waved at Amundalas, but she didn’t seem to notice him.

“Still, the Lighthouse Keeper makes for a valuable ally,” Amundalas said politely to the boy.

“I’ve said it countless times: I despise the kingdom the Lighthouse Keeper envisions. Their methods would strip all mystery from the world.”

The boy’s voice rang out again. It was high-pitched, yet it resonated as if using the entire ocean as a vocal chamber. However, no one except Isaac and Amundalas seemed to notice or pay attention to the pier.

“If mystery vanishes, what fun is left in the world? Sailors wouldn’t wonder what lies beyond the sea, and travelers would know exactly what awaits over the mountains. I refuse to accept such a world.”

“Your obstinacy won’t change anything, Rael.”

Isaac felt as though he’d just heard something deeply secretive.

Instinctively, he realized that the boy’s name was Rael and that it was one of the many names of the Caller.

The Caller was speaking through the body of the boy it had chosen as its vessel, addressing Amundalas.

“When I say no, I mean it. Surely you understand what that means.”

“…It means I am to carry out your will by any means necessary.”

Hearing Amundalas’s resigned tone, Isaac could tell that the Caller was an incredibly stubborn child. Whether the boy’s personality had merged with the Caller’s, or the boy had become the Caller, Isaac couldn’t tell.

Amundalas turned her gaze toward the fisherman’s house.

“Perhaps Rael is right. The Codex of Light is flourishing, after all. To the point where the Outer Boundary’s focus has shifted toward them. As their light brightens, we’re bound to fade.”

“I’m not here for boring stories like that, Amundalas.”

Rael muttered, seemingly annoyed.

“The Lighthouse Keeper wants to calculate every possible future. No mystery, no wonder, no chance—everything within that madman’s scope of prediction. Do you really think a world like that would be fun?”

“To be honest, I don’t see why it would be so bad, Rael. Isn’t there a place for us in that Millennium Kingdom? Wouldn’t it be better to live without an uncertain future?”

“You fool.”

Rael smacked Amundalas on the shoulder, though she didn’t so much as flinch. Rael, however, looked strangely sorrowful.

“You humans are all the same. You don’t understand what’s truly important because you’re too blinded by immediate desires. That’s why the Lighthouse Keeper succeeded… because tomorrow’s security matters more than anything else to you.”

Isaac suppressed the urge to mutter, This brat knows nothing of reality, and kept silent. After all, it was clear neither of them could perceive him.

Still, as Isaac listened to their conversation, he felt something odd.

"The Codex of Light is flourishing, and the Outer Boundary’s focus has shifted?"

That meant this scene wasn’t from a thousand years ago, before Luadin’s escape from Miarma.

Isaac recalled Amundalas once saying, “Erased histories cannot be shown.”

This vision, then, was a fragment of “true history” from before the Salt Council betrayed the Lighthouse Keeper.

“If the Lighthouse Keeper’s Millennium Kingdom organizes, analyzes, and defines everything in the world, we’ll all be playing within its rules. We’ll become phenomena and subjects, not gods or angels. Do you still not understand?”

Amundalas tried to respond, but Rael cut her off.

“No, never mind. Whether you understand or not doesn’t matter. I’ve said it enough times—I hate it. Do whatever it takes to prevent the Millennium Kingdom from happening.”

Amundalas sighed deeply, placing her hands on her hips. Then she began stroking her chin thoughtfully. It was clear she wasn’t reacting on a whim to Rael’s tantrum but rather considering a plan she had long contemplated—one that accounted for risks and variables.

“The Lighthouse Keeper has been a long-time ally and friend… but they’ve grown too large.”

Amundalas’s reasoning was simple. Established powers always clash when a new power rises. The Codex of Light, once insignificant during Luadin’s escape, had now grown into an empire poised to surpass them. Already, the Codex had engaged in minor conflicts with the Sea Cult.

If left unchecked, those conflicts would inevitably escalate into war.

“There might be a way, Rael.”

“Good.”

Rael replied tersely, and Amundalas bowed respectfully before disappearing somewhere. Rael, however, remained seated at the pier, dangling his bare feet.

Isaac suddenly found himself staring into Rael’s faintly glowing, turquoise eyes, which shimmered as if in a dream. He couldn’t tell if Rael was looking at him or through him. Isaac raised his hand tentatively, but Rael spoke first.

“I’m sorry.”

The next moment, the bustling Miarma filled with late-night lights and people vanished into blinding white heat and brilliance.

Miarma burned. Every human soul within it was consumed, leaving nothing but void.

The thousands of lives born, raised, and thriving in Miarma over centuries were erased—revised as if they had never existed.

Isaac was horrified by this incomprehensible destruction that transcended time and space. He turned to look at the boy sitting silently, seemingly aware of it all.

“I don’t know who the Dreamer is.”

Rael’s dreamy eyes met Isaac’s gaze.

“But they must be better than the Lighthouse Keeper or the White Owl.”

***

Clap. Isaac’s eyes opened.

The night sky greeted him once again.

Fearing he’d fallen back into Urbansus, Isaac looked around cautiously. Thankfully, he recognized the chaotic ruins of Miarma—a scene he was all too familiar with. Beside him stood Hesabel, her face etched with worry, and another unexpected face.

“Angela?”

“Really, Sir Isaac? I’m the one who dove into the water and saved you from that giant sea serpent, but the first thing you notice is some random girl?”

“No… I just didn’t expect to see you.”

Angela sat next to Hesabel, gazing at Isaac with quiet interest. Her expression momentarily reminded him of Rael, though he dismissed it as coincidence. He felt a stinging sensation on his cheek and turned to Hesabel.

“Did you slap me?”

“No.”

“….”

Though the evidence was clear, Isaac decided it wasn’t worth pursuing further.

Instead, he focused on figuring out the situation—how Hesabel and Angela had found him together in the first place.

“Well, I was still recovering at the inn… and then she came to wake me, saying we had to find you.”

“She said you had to find me?”

“Yes.”

Isaac looked at Angela in surprise.

“Can you explain now?”

Angela simply stared back at him in silence. The curses and restrictions placed by the Immortal Order made it impossible for her to speak. Unless a divine miracle intervened, her silence would remain unbroken. And the Golden Idol Guild, to which she belonged, had no angel to provide such aid.

"Could there be an angel I don’t know about?"

It was hard to imagine an angel aiding a sect without priests or paladins. Isaac doubted it but couldn’t deny that some transcendent will had acted through her.

“Sir Isaac,” Hesabel interjected. “We can discuss those details later. For now, there’s someone waiting for you.”

“Waiting for me?”

Hesabel pointed toward the sea.

Floating atop the dark waters was a colossal sea serpent, its eyes locked on Isaac.