Isaac was puzzled by Waltzemer’s tearful expression of regret.

If Waltzemer had opposed the Codex without relying on the will of the Lighthouse Keeper, could he have avoided the declaration of excommunication? Perhaps he could have. In fact, the Lighthouse Keeper could not excommunicate the Emperor recklessly because of the Licht Treaty.

Once the earthly power was acknowledged, there was potential for issues if it exercised its rights to directly influence that power.

However, the moment Waltzemer entrusted that authority to the Lighthouse Keeper, he gave them grounds to nullify the Licht Treaty.

For the same reason, it was also impossible for the Emperor to forcibly strip the Pope of power.

This, too, would break the Licht Treaty.

In other words, the moment Waltzemer succumbed to his arrogance and desired greater authority and power, he was ensnared in a trap he couldn’t escape.

And the path to that arrogance was likely carefully laid by the Lighthouse Keeper.

To once again create a world where the Codex ruled over humans.

“Because of me, so much blood has been spilled due to all the sacrifices, yet my arrogance made it all meaningless. My family, my friends, my siblings, Ethelheart, Delia, Dietrich… even Rene.”

Isaac’s expression twitched. He revived the doubts he had dismissed due to a lack of evidence and the church’s suspicious behavior.

“Was it you who summoned the Apocalypse Handler in Rougeberg?”

“…Yes.”

Waltzemer mumbled absently.

“I used the information and sacred relics I discovered while uncovering the foul deeds of the church. I thought I could use them as an excuse to exploit the church’s weaknesses. I was too focused on undermining the church’s authority and expanding its moral failings.”

Both Bashul and Isaac, who were unaware, were at a loss for words.

Waltzemer had gambled with his life.

He must have been confident he would win since it was a gamble conducted on a board he set up. But the gamble failed, and many people died.

Including Rene Romerque, the loyal knight who willingly sacrificed herself to protect the Emperor.

“But Isaac, thanks to you, the situation ended too quickly. Before I even faced a proper threat. So I killed Rene when she was poisoned. I wanted to create a pretext that ‘my subordinate’s blood was spilled due to the church’s assassination attempt.’”

Isaac found himself gripping his sword without realizing it.

He didn’t know Rene well, but he knew she was a knight who dedicated herself to training yet often smiled warmly.

Had she died fighting an enemy, he would have mourned her loss but not felt anger. But if she died because of her superior’s political schemes…

As Isaac fiddled with his sword, Bashul watched the situation with a tense expression. However, Isaac soon calmed his murderous intent.

Once Rene was poisoned by the Apocalypse Handler, her chance of survival was slim. Perhaps he could have saved her if he had revealed his powers.

Yet, could Waltzemer be the sole problem?

The Emperor, the Pope, and everyone living on this earth were mere pawns moving according to a celestial scheme. If they deviated from the plan, they would be “corrected” or replaced through Urbanus. Rene and Waltzemer were essentially not much different at their core.

So, who were the ones moving the pawns? The Archangels? The Nine Gods?

What was their purpose in playing this game?

Waltzemer sacrificed his subordinates to create a world where humans ruled the earth. It was a noble goal, one Isaac agreed with and encouraged.

To what extent could “sacrifices for a goal” be justified?

Isaac felt confusion. Waltzemer’s struggles, anger, and conflicts were problems Isaac had faced or would soon face.

Now he was one of the sharp edges of the world.

[The Nameless Chaos is watching you.]

‘Shut up.’

Isaac brushed off the message angrily as the Nameless Chaos whispered its incantation to prevent over-immersion.

The messages from the Nameless Chaos helped him perceive and adapt to this world as if it were a game. But if he continued viewing the world with that perspective, he would be no different from Waltzemer or the Lighthouse Keeper.

Isaac suddenly spoke up.

“There are no sacrifices.”

Both Bashul and Waltzemer looked at Isaac.

“I am a veteran among veterans. I can win without strategy. If sacrifices are necessary, tell them to cut off my arm. Then they can see what lies behind that arm.”

***

After a brief silence, Bashul spoke up.

“What are you talking about?”

Isaac came to his senses and looked up. He had gotten lost in deep thought, muttering to himself.

All they heard was Waltzemer’s confession about Rene’s death. However, Waltzemer seemed to sense something from Isaac’s words and spoke.

“I don’t know what ‘veteran’ means, but your words resonate deeply.”

Waltzemer smiled for the first time since he had been in this prison and muttered.

“Sometimes I had my doubts, but you are indeed an excellent paladin. If even half of the church were like you, it would be a better place.”

Though it was a compliment, Isaac couldn’t imagine what the church would look like if it were filled with people like him.

“Bashul, help me up.”

When Waltzemer reached out, Bashul put his arm over his shoulder and helped him stand. Though his body was covered in wounds from being dragged here, it seemed they had used a healing miracle to keep him alive.

Isaac watched and coldly remarked.

“Finally decided to escape?”

“I still believe I’m not qualified,” Waltzemer said as he lowered his head. “But it seems you both think it’s better for me to struggle outside rather than die here, so I guess I’ll have to grovel around to atone for my sins, even if it’s disgraceful…”

He tilted his head as he spoke.

“What are your thoughts? I have no horns anymore, and I’ve lost the miracles bestowed upon me, the power, and the territory. I’m just a useless old man. What use could I possibly be?”

Isaac looked at Bashul.

Although Isaac also agreed, it was Bashul who had enthusiastically advocated rescuing Waltzemer. But Bashul just mumbled, unable to give an answer, clearly embarrassed. Waltzemer noticed this quickly.

“Is it Elil’s will?”

“…Yes.”

Waltzemer chuckled weakly.

Excommunicated unilaterally by the Codex he had devoted his life to, he was instead saved by the unexpected Elil. It might be another pawn role, but Waltzemer decided to accept it willingly.

For the same reason as Bashul.

“Alright. If I can strike a blow at the church, I’ll take it.”

On the other hand, Isaac agreed to rescue the Emperor for more practical reasons.

‘If the Emperor escapes, it will be difficult for the church to swallow the empire whole.’

The church had nullified the Licht Treaty using the Emperor’s excommunication as a basis and was preparing to swallow up all the imperial power held by Waltzemer. With the sudden fall of Waltzemer’s immense charisma, not many would resist their movements.

But if Waltzemer escaped alive from Lichtheim?

The vested interests within the empire who didn’t want to be exploited by the church would surely question the church’s authority and power. Ultimately, they would weigh their benefits, and in that process, Isaac would inevitably gain some advantage.

It seemed Waltzemer was thinking along similar lines.

“Have you seen Delia Lyon? Last time I saw her, she was injured but not mortally wounded.”

“I haven’t seen her.”

“Hmm, this might sound harsh.”

Waltzemer paused briefly before speaking.

“If we can’t rescue Delia Lyon, it’s better to kill her. If she lives, the church will use her to control the Council of Nobles. The same goes for Dietrich. With the death of Duke Brant, it will be difficult for the church to tame the Northern Alliance. So, it would have been best if my excommunication was the end of it. But…”

The moment he decided to escape, the imperial ailment flared up again, proving he was indeed an emperor. Suggesting they should kill Delia Lyon, who made him an emperor and served him for decades, seemed like a true emperor.

Isaac kicked Waltzemer in the rear, meaning for him to get a grip. Startled by the unexpected kick, Waltzemer looked at Isaac with a surprised expression.

“Pull yourself together and focus on escaping. Stop spouting nonsense.”

“…I guess I was rambling. It seems to be a chronic issue. I’ll watch my mouth.”

Waltzemer walked, fumbling as if the sensation of being kicked was foreign to him. After all, who would have kicked the emperor’s rear end since he was ten? But sometimes, regardless of age, having someone to kick you when you talk nonsense is necessary.

***

Isaac covered Waltzemer with a rag, disguising him as a prisoner and dragging him along. It wasn’t strange for confessors to transport prisoners, so they didn’t draw attention.

‘It’s fortunate his horns are gone.’

Without his characteristic horns, Waltzemer looked oddly plain.

Even though it was the appearance of an ordinary person.

But had his horns been present during the escape, they would have had to cut them off themselves.

As they made their way through the mid-point of Lichtheim’s underground corridor, a sudden sharp sound filled the hallway. At the same time, the lights lining the corridor began to emit a bright red glow.

Bashul clicked his tongue and muttered.

“We’ve been discovered. Let’s run.”

There were plenty of reasons why they might have been discovered.

Perhaps it was because the two confessors were missing, or maybe it was because the changeover time for the paladins guarding Waltzemer’s cell had arrived. Getting this far unscathed was already a miracle.

The three of them hurriedly started running. But they had to stop shortly after when all the corridor lights suddenly went out. The underground corridor, devoid of windows, plunged into pitch darkness as soon as the lights vanished.

The moment the suffocating darkness descended, Isaac instinctively shouted.

“Don’t move!”

“What?”

“Don’t move. This is Lichtheim’s alert protocol. When there’s an escapee, they extinguish the lights and order everyone to stop moving. Anyone moving without permission is deemed the escapee.”

Waltzemer and Bashul looked at Isaac with frozen expressions.

“So we just stand here until the search party arrives?”

Of course, they couldn’t do that. But the moment they moved, their location would be pinpointed. In this ironic situation, Isaac desperately tried to figure out how to escape. Unfortunately, a red light began to appear from the corridor they had come down.

Isaac felt a sense of déjà vu.

He finally realized that the past he had reverted through Urbansus had caught up with reality. And that a threat and obstacle of equal magnitude had arrived.

Yet, he still didn’t know how they could escape.

Thud, thud, thud, thud, thud.

A loud noise echoed with each red light flicker.

“Isaac, since you know everything, I have to ask… What does a search party mean in Lichtheim…?”

“The Golden Lion Paladins.”

Only then did they see a man in a golden mask striding down the corridor, enveloped in the red glow.

Dera Heman. This time, he was fully clad in armor, not pajamas.

It was clear how urgent the librarian’s summons must have been, but it was also a terrible conclusion that they had to face a fully armed Dera Hemann.

If they stayed here, they would inevitably face Dera Hemann.

While Isaac was still racking his brain, Bashul approached Dera Hemann with a firm expression. At the same time, a white light came on above his head.

The bright light illuminated his body.

“Bashul!”

“Be quiet, Isaac. You’ve done well enough. All I’ve done is follow you around. From here on, I’ll handle what I agreed to do.”