Paladin of the Dead God-Chapter 406: Lord of the Graveyard (6)

The Lord of the Graveyard was not as physically resilient as his intimidating appearance suggested.

This was inevitable. He often carried corpses on his body, granting new vessels to the undead of the Immortal Order. Imbuing each of them with angelic divinity would have been a waste of his power.

Moreover, his body compensated for its lack of toughness with an extraordinary regenerative ability.

[Holy Grail Knight!]

He roared, swinging his massive sword in a sweeping arc. Everything in its path was cleaved in two, cut cleanly at the waist. Isaac ducked low, rushing forward.

In that instant, the countless corpses clinging to the Lord’s body spasmed to life, reaching out with clawed hands to grab Isaac.

Hundreds of skeletal arms clawed at him, desperate to seize him. Meanwhile, some of the undead reattached the severed leg, seamlessly binding it back to the Lord’s body.

[Stop skulking like a rat and face me like a warrior!]

“Why does someone who isn’t even an Elil follower talk about fairness?” Isaac taunted.

The Lord of the Graveyard was a seasoned general, forged by centuries of war. The moment Isaac decided to fight “fairly,” he knew the Lord would stop at nothing to kill him.

This was the same method the Lord had used countless times in life to defeat his enemies. Isaac didn’t consider it dishonorable.

On the battlefield, fairness was a luxury one couldn’t afford, not when the lives of their subordinates were at stake.

“Besides, isn’t it petty for an angel to demand fairness from a human?”

Had the Lord of the Graveyard still possessed facial muscles, he might have sneered. Instead, he unleashed a frenzied mental assault, sending a wave of maddening pressure toward Isaac.

The sheer force of the attack made Isaac stagger, and even the ground beneath him trembled as if struck by an earthquake.

Despite the overwhelming force, retreating was not an option. Closing the distance to engage such a massive opponent was already a feat. Isaac managed to hold his ground, thanks to his proximity and Eidan’s harpoons disrupting the Lord’s movements.

The Lord of the Graveyard thrashed violently to catch Isaac. Though he appeared to have lost control, his actions were calculated.

‘I must hold on, no matter the cost, to preserve what remains of my forces.’

Amundalas was no real threat. Neither was Isaac. However, the stalled retreat meant Amundalas was preparing for a decisive move.

‘Whether this Holy Grail Knight is real or a fraud, I must kill him to shatter the morale of the Issacrea Dawn Army!’

If the Dawn Army’s morale faltered, the Eclipse Army’s retreat would proceed far more smoothly. As for the Lord himself, he could escape later. Isaac’s proximity, then, was an opportunity, not a threat.

The two clashed, each aiming for the other’s weaknesses, both desperate to emerge victorious.

Shing! Crash!

Isaac’s Luadin Key clashed against the Lord’s enormous blade, sending sparks flying as jagged steel ground against steel.

The Lord’s weapon resembled a patchwork monstrosity, forged from melted-down swords and bound together with bone. Yet, as one of his tools, it held the status of a relic, matching the Luadin Key in power.

Isaac chipped away at the massive blade with precise strikes and focused energy, though its crude form rendered such efforts seemingly futile.

The Lord thought otherwise.

‘That sword aura... unsettling.’

His greatsword, like his body, regenerated quickly. However, the areas that collided with Isaac’s aura were notably slower to recover.

The reason became clear: the affected portions were disintegrated, as though erased entirely.

Without fragments to restore, regeneration required new material, delaying the process.

Though dangerous, the attacks had a clear limit.

The Lord assessed Isaac and concluded:

‘He’s too weak for anything stronger. At best, his attacks scratch the surface.’

The Lord of the Graveyard’s body, designed for endless substitution, could endure such minor damage indefinitely. Calculating that a decisive end was preferable, he opted to finish the battle quickly, even if it meant minor injuries.

With a beastly roar, he raised his sword high, inviting Isaac to strike. Isaac, captivated, surged forward to deliver a blow.

But then, the countless skulls adorning the Lord’s chest snapped their jaws shut around Isaac’s blade.

The scorching heat of the Luadin Key seeped out through the gaps, and Isaac’s aura shattered their teeth and jaws, but the skulls refused to release their grip.

The Lord brought his massive sword down upon Isaac.

Even before it struck, Isaac felt an overwhelming pressure bearing down on him—a technique unique to the Lord, his mastery of advanced swordsmanship. It was a crushing force that seemed to tear at his very being.

The blade descended, aiming to obliterate Isaac completely.

A thunderous shockwave rippled outward, shaking the entire battlefield.

The Lord of the Graveyard froze in shock and confusion as he looked down at his greatsword.

Despite its immense power, the blade had cracked—before even touching Isaac.

Edelred, his face slick with sweat, was bracing the blade with both hands, pushing it back.

The legendary Lion Knight, known for his might that rivaled even Elil’s champions, was forcing the Lord’s weapon away.

“Did you think you were the only one capable of exploiting an opening?”

Isaac’s taunt was followed by a sudden, devastating blow to the Lord’s back.

Boom!

Tuhalin’s hammer struck with such force that over twenty of the Lord’s vertebrae shattered instantly. The lightning coursing through the hammer charred the Lord’s body from head to toe.

The assault didn’t end there.

The Lord sensed something foreign yet familiar emanating from the blade lodged in his chest—a sensation that reignited the pain of old wounds.

The unhealed scars inflicted by Sword of May and Dera Heman flared with searing agony.

“Even with your regeneration, some wounds just don’t heal so easily.”

Isaac summoned his Golden Lion, adding its force to his assault.

The blade, already imbued with the blessings of Sword of May and the techniques of Dera Heman, carved deep into the Lord’s chest.

Miracles were the reenactment of historical events, and no angel could defy the “inevitable” outcomes they brought.

Isaac’s strike cleaved through the Lord of the Graveyard, splitting him from chest to shoulder.

***

Crack… Thud…

The Lord’s torso dangled precariously, barely connected to his lower body. The three harpoons and their chains served as makeshift supports, keeping him from collapsing entirely.

As the tenuous connection threatened to break, dozens of skeletons scrambled to prop him up. Still, his injuries left him teetering on the edge of death, his regeneration struggling to maintain a fragile equilibrium.

It wasn’t Isaac’s sword aura that proved fatal.

The reenactment of historical events—the very record of the Archangel May’s confrontation with the Graveyard Lord—was the true bane of his existence.

‘In the end, those old wounds were my downfall.’

The mere fact that this incident was documented in Urvanthus served as a critical vulnerability.

It was essentially a guidebook on how to defeat the Archangel of the Graveyard.

Though he didn’t know how Isaac had accessed the record—likely through angelic intervention—he could only scoff at the irony.

[I had expected a fair fight from this era’s so-called heroes...]

“You really thought I’d fight you fairly?”

[It was a duel beyond expectations.]

Isaac’s confrontation with the Graveyard Lord had been nothing more than a diversion.

Unlike Pallor, the Graveyard Lord was a force to be reckoned with in direct combat, and Isaac was merely a projection of his true self, with limited power. Had this been a one-on-one battle like the one against Pallor, the Lord’s prediction of Isaac merely “scratching the surface” would have proven true.

Isaac never intended to duel the Graveyard Lord.

His sole purpose was to hold the Lord at bay long enough for Tuhalin and Edelred to finish off the Reapers and join the fight.

By keeping the Lord’s focus entirely on himself, Isaac had created an opening for their intervention.

Tuhalin and Edelred, heroes chosen by archangels, unleashed devastating attacks the moment they arrived.

What followed was merely a reenactment of the historical event that had brought the Graveyard Lord to his knees.

[Heh.]

The Graveyard Lord surveyed his surroundings.

The sight of him crumbling had reinvigorated the Issacrea Dawn Army, their morale surging as they slaughtered the Eclipse Army with renewed vigor.

“The Issacrea Dawn Army will never be defeated!”

Their resounding cries echoed across the battlefield.

Despite the Eclipse Army’s efforts to retreat, only the rearguard managed to escape. The rest were being annihilated.

The Graveyard Lord had not brought his entire force to this battle—Capital Ushak needed defending, and reserves remained—but the losses here were catastrophic enough to severely weaken the Immortal Order.

[What am I supposed to tell His Majesty the Emperor…?]

The retreat had failed, and if even he, an archangel, was destroyed, the Immortal Order’s defeat would be inevitable.

To think that the Holy Land Lua, conquered by his hands centuries ago, would now be lost because of him—this bitter irony left him speechless.

“Commander.”

Tuhalin addressed Isaac in a stern tone.

Killing an archangel like a common foot soldier was impossible. A complex ritual was required, even for a basic sealing. With Pallor, they hadn’t had the luxury of time to perform such a procedure, allowing him to escape.

“If you wish for an honorable end, stay still.”

Edelred spoke with tense authority.

However, the Graveyard Lord had no intention of going quietly. He remembered why he had converted to the Immortal Order in the first place.

[Eclipse Army! Scatter in every direction, away from the Holy Land Lua!]

Tuhalin’s expression twisted in frustration as he brought his hammer down on the Graveyard Lord’s skull, shattering it from his body. Yet even as cracks webbed across his fractured skull, the Lord continued to shout his commands.

[Scatter and harass the Dawn Army relentlessly! Delay them from reaching the Holy Land Lua at all costs!]

“Damn it…”

As soon as his orders were issued, the mental domination holding the undead in line dissipated. The Eclipse Army, which had been retreating in an orderly fashion, broke into chaos, scattering in all directions.

Undead, now free of the Graveyard Lord’s control, began to act independently. A scattered enemy was far harder to chase down than one retreating in a single direction.

Edelred quickly issued orders to regroup the troops, ensuring they didn’t overextend in pursuit.

Tuhalin raised his hammer for another strike, but Isaac stopped him.

“It’s too late,” Isaac said. The Graveyard Lord’s voice had already been heard, projected through his mental aura.

But Isaac wasn’t finished.

Gripping the shattered skull in one hand, he activated the Hidden Rite.

Dark energy swirled around them, forming a black sphere that enclosed Isaac and the Lord. The outside world disappeared, leaving the two completely isolated, even from celestial or terrestrial connections.

The Graveyard Lord immediately felt the severance.

[A clever trick, Holy Grail Knight. But I’ve already given the order. It’s too late.]

The command had been delivered. Nothing could undo that.

Isaac, however, smirked faintly.

His demeanor suggested that the order didn’t bother him—in fact, it seemed as though he had been waiting for it.

“Not worried about defying the Immortal Emperor’s orders, are you?”

[I’m already certain my body will be destroyed. What does it matter?]

“Then you’ll return as a spirit to plead for resurrection. But tell me, after ordering your army to scatter—defying the Immortal Emperor’s direct commands—do you really think he’ll bring you back?”

The Graveyard Lord’s mental aura faltered for a brief moment.

‘How does he know? How does he know the Emperor ordered me to retreat?’

The Emperor’s command had been delivered solely to him. He had gone to great lengths to conceal it while organizing the retreat. Yet Isaac’s words suggested he had seen through everything.

The Lord quickly calmed himself.

[So, this is your handiwork at the Holy Land Lua. I don’t know how you managed it, but you’re clearly aware of the situation.]

The Immortal Emperor had spoken ambiguously, but the Graveyard Lord now realized his suspicions had been correct.

He lamented deeply. He should have obeyed immediately, despite the risks. Doubt had cost him everything.

[I am a general. A failed one, perhaps—a general who defied his lord’s orders and lost a war. But still a general.]

His voice hardened as he gazed at Isaac.

[My judgment remains unchanged. You’ve made a mistake. Even if I lose my body here, my undead will stall your army. That will leave the real Holy Grail Knight isolated in the Holy Land Lua.]

Whether or not the real Isaac was at the Holy Land, the Graveyard Lord determined that isolation would suffice. A commander plunging into enemy territory alone—it was madness.

Madness he could exploit.

[You’ll destroy me, yes. But what worse outcome could there be? I am loyal to the Immortal Emperor, and he has promised me immortality. That’s all that matters.]

The Lord spoke confidently, trusting the Emperor would restore him.

Isaac, however, laughed at his naivety.

“Hah, clever as you are, you don’t seem to know how Pallor met his end.”

[What are you talking about?]

“Doesn’t matter. Go meet your friend.”

From Isaac’s left hand, dark tendrils shot out, piercing the interior of the Graveyard Lord’s skull.

The tendrils slithered into the depths of his being, devouring his essence with ravenous intensity.