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“The accused, Isaac, has been found guilty of coming into contact with heretical and vile relics during the relic recovery process. Instead of destroying or returning the items immediately, he used them, clearly allowing his mind to be tainted by the beliefs of heretics and apostates. There are testimonies that he has spread heretical teachings, notably the ‘Teachings of the Owl’…”

While Soltnar passionately recited the charges, drawing on his limited knowledge of religious trials, Isaac’s mind wandered elsewhere.

It wasn’t that he had no intention of defending himself. If he wanted, he could seize control of the trial. That is, if it were a normal trial.

But religious trials were far from rational.

Almost all of them ended in a guilty verdict, driven by evidence planted by inquisitors and the testimonies of “witnesses” that seemed to appear out of nowhere. The accused’s only choice was to either resist and die horribly or confess and die more mercifully.

Moreover, Dera Heman, acting as the judge, had already given Isaac the ultimatum: “Join me or die.”

Thus, Isaac saw little point in devising a clever defense.

His true concern was Kalsen’s proposed plan.

‘…Can I really trust that bastard?’

Kalsen’s method seemed far too risky to Isaac. The “safest” method, at least for Isaac personally, was to summon his allies and wipe out the Golden Lion Paladins before fleeing to the Holy Land.

But that would only ensure Isaac’s safety—and even then, it wasn’t truly safe. The Codex of Light’s terrifying wrath would come crashing down on the Holy Land, and on Isaac himself. Perhaps an angel would even come knocking on his door.

On the other hand, Kalsen’s method was low-risk, high-reward: face Dera Heman in a rematch and win. It was the cleanest way to resolve everything. The downside, of course, was that Isaac would be taking an enormous personal risk.

‘If I could trust Kalsen, everything would be solved…’

Up to now, Kalsen had helped Isaac a great deal.

Isaac wanted to believe that Kalsen wasn’t as terrible as he seemed. But upon reflection, the man had betrayed his comrades to the Immortal Order, slaughtered innocent civilians, and had even tried to kill Isaac when he was just a child.

Even the undead wouldn’t stoop that low.

‘…It’s hard to trust him.’

“…So, Isaac. What do you think?”

Isaac snapped back to reality upon hearing his name suddenly called.

It was Dera’s Commander speaking on his behalf. All eyes were now on Isaac.

Isaac opened his mouth and replied.

“No.”

The crowd burst into snickers and murmurs. Isaac knew his response had been inappropriate, but he didn’t bother hiding the fact that he had been daydreaming.

Seeing the frustration on Soltnar’s flushed face made it worth it.

The Commander, unfazed, calmly repeated Dera’s question.

“Inquisitor Soltnar Culvain argues that you chose to travel south to Odryf, rather than march east with the main Dawn Army, because you were planning to betray them. It’s a reasonable suspicion. After all, to reach the Holy Land, you would have to head back north. What was your true intent?”

“…Why assume I wouldn’t simply cross by boat? It’s a shorter route,” Isaac replied.

“A boat? Ha…”

The Commander stared at Isaac incredulously before glancing back at Dera, silently asking for permission to continue explaining. When Dera nodded, the Commander resumed.

“Do you really think the 7th Dawn Army turned into a bunch of pirates by sheer bad luck? No one can cross that strait. Even the smugglers of the Golden Idol Guild take a long detour to the east.”

Truthfully, Isaac had no desire to cross that cursed strait either.

There was a reason most of the Dawn Army marched by land. Not only was it difficult to secure a ship, but navigating that treacherous route was no easy feat.

But Isaac knew a way to break through that insane strait.

He just wasn’t inclined to reveal it at the moment.

“With enough faith, one can overcome any obstacle. I, for instance, sank to the depths of the ocean with the Angel of the Salt Council, yet, by the grace of the Codex of Light, I returned alive. My very survival is proof of my words.”

Isaac deliberately played the fool.

However, given his remarkable journey and history, even his nonsensical words sounded like a convincing testimony of faith. Some of the paladins seemed swayed, murmuring among themselves and nodding.

‘The fools are always the first to be persuaded,’ Isaac thought with amusement.

Unfortunately, neither Soltnar nor Dera Heman were among the fools. Soltnar opened his mouth to retort, but Dera raised a hand to stop him.

Dera gazed at Isaac quietly for a moment, then gestured to the Commander.

The Commander translated.

“You seem deep in thought. Have you made up your mind yet?”

It was a reminder of Dera’s earlier offer: follow him or die.

Isaac’s decision had already been made—he wouldn’t follow Dera. His only concern now was how to avoid death while refusing.

Isaac sighed but remained silent. Sensing his hesitation, Dera kept quiet as well before making a gesture that everyone present immediately recognized.

Dera stood up and drew the Luadin Key.

***

A tense atmosphere rippled through the ranks of the Golden Lion Paladins.

They all knew what that gesture meant.

Execution. Though the trial had followed proper procedure, the paladins wondered how the Issacrea Dawn Army would react to this outcome. But they couldn’t keep Isaac as their commander after he had been charged and convicted by the inquisitor.

Isaac, now realizing how things would end, slowly backed away.

The Commander started to move toward Isaac to restrain him, but Dera held him back. The Commander, puzzled, took a moment to survey the scene and then understood Dera’s intention.

As Dera took a step forward, Isaac took one step back.

In that strange dance, Isaac’s back finally pressed against the wall. With no room left to retreat, Dera adjusted his grip on his sword.

“Sir Dera Heman,” Isaac called out.

Isaac grinned as he spoke.

“Thank you for the opportunity.”

With that, Isaac turned his gaze toward Kaldwin, which had been stuck in the wall since the previous night. Before he had been imprisoned, Isaac had warned everyone about the sword’s cursed properties, ensuring that no one would foolishly try to handle it and accidentally injure themselves.

As a result, Kaldwin had been left embedded in the wall, untouched.

Isaac rushed toward the sword, pushing his shackles against its razor-sharp blade. In one swift motion, the sword sliced through the metal cuffs like they were made of soft tofu.

Seeing this, Soltnar erupted in fury.

“Heresy! The heretic is trying to escape!”