“That’s ridiculous… Do you think you can just appoint the next head of the guild as you please?”

“Accepting or not is up to you. But if I go straight to Belman Bessia and undermine Leonora’s standing, who do you think will be the next head? Naturally, I’d have a say in it.”

Isaac’s words were no different than saying, “I’ll let you choose the next Pope of the Codex of Light.” It was absurd, but a ridiculous deal was sometimes needed to shake the opponent’s resolve.

For Isaac, a poor and penniless Holy Grail Knight, this was the kind of bait he had to dangle to buy Shalok.

‘If I kill Shalok, I’ll earn the grudge of his mercenaries and the displeasure of the Golden Idol Guild. Leonora might resort to even more drastic measures… It’s best to just bribe someone like Shalok.’

Whether Shalok could deceive Leonora into thinking he was on the verge of success was crucial, but that was up to him.

Shalok had already been calculating how much he could sell the “next guild head nomination” for.

As soon as he figured out a sum that would let him live comfortably even if he spent his life writing plays that never sold, Shalok nodded with feigned difficulty.

“An unjust contract with evil is annulled before a righteous and noble Paladin. Well, if I can just keep doing what I’ve been doing…”

Trust as a mercenary? Shalok never had any of that to begin with.

Moreover, with the expected sum, he wouldn’t have to do the distasteful work of a mercenary ever again. Although he might have to share it with his troupe members, the risk seemed worth taking.

Had Isaac demanded Shalok outright join his side, he wouldn’t have accepted. But since he could simply continue his current actions without crossing any more lines, there was no reason to refuse.

“I can swear before the Golden Idol, right?”

It was a warning that breaking the contract would bring misfortune: choking on water or breaking one’s nose while sleeping.

Isaac shrugged nonchalantly.

“Go ahead. Just don’t forget that the deal only goes into effect once I reach Odryf.”

Isaac could run off before reaching Odryf, but doing so would only ensure the Golden Idol Guild kept hindering him. Defying the merchants responsible for supplying the expeditionary forces would benefit no one but the enemy.

“Fine. Let’s put on a convincing show, then.”

“Then consider the contract sealed… There’s just one more thing to settle.”

“One more thing?”

As Shalok turned in confusion, Uchiura, the White Tiger Captain, came growling out of the village chief’s front yard.

Despite being bloodied, his muscular build and the intimidating presence typical of a White Tiger Captain remained intact.

Shalok hesitated, taking a step back.

“You need to resolve the conflict with your friend there.”

“Wait, what…?”

Before Shalok could say anything, Uchiura let out a wild roar and charged.

Isaac shoved Shalok forward.

Both Shalok and Uchiura were unarmed, but an orc’s bare hands could easily kill a grown man. If that orc was a White Tiger Captain, it was even more dangerous.

As Isaac pushed him, Shalok stumbled and rolled across the yard, dodging Uchiura’s grasp by a hair’s breadth. Shalok slid past Uchiura, knocking his legs from under him.

The moment Uchiura fell, Shalok sprang up and stabbed his hand into the back of Uchiura’s neck.

The hand that had been empty now wielded a large dagger. Uchiura gurgled blood from the back of his throat before going limp.

He was finally free from his body, returning to his homeland.

“What? I swear I confiscated his weapons…”

Hesabel, who had seized his weapons before bringing him in, looked shocked. Hiding a weapon from an assassin like her was no small feat.

But Isaac, who had half-expected this, was unfazed. Shalok probably had a few more hidden weapons up his sleeve.

Shalok shot Isaac a weary glare before sighing heavily. Then he casually addressed Hesabel.

“A man always carries a sturdy weapon or two.”

“Hmm, something to keep in mind.”

“Hesabel, that’s a sexually inappropriate comment. If he makes another like it, feel free to cut something off.”

Isaac didn’t specify what to cut. Inwardly, he thought to himself, ‘With lines like that, no wonder his plays don’t sell…’

Shalok flinched and averted his gaze.

“Oh, right, now that we’re on the same side, I should tell you—I’m not sure if the Issacrea Dawn Army heading to Odryf is the best move.”

“What do you mean?”

“Lichtheim has officially announced the Dawn Army’s eastward march. The Pope’s entourage, along with bishops and priests, is quite the spectacle. They’ve already clashed with the Black Empire. You might lose all your credit.”

“Hmm, I’d better hurry, then.”

Odryf was originally just a waypoint for Isaac.

Lichtheim’s actions didn’t alter his plans. However, the main force of the Dawn Army had far superior strength and supplies compared to the Issacrea Dawn Army. Isaac couldn’t maintain their relentless pace, so he needed to move quickly.

“But it might not be that bad. I heard that while the Holy Grail Knight was hiding in the mountains, Ciero’s Dawn Army attempted an overly ambitious operation in this area and suffered heavy losses.”

“What?”

“There were quite a few comparing Ciero’s priest to the Holy Grail Knight. But since the competition tripped up first, it’s good news, right?”

“…I really need to hurry.”

Isaac didn’t rejoice at his rival’s self-destruction. Instead, a cold sweat ran down his back.

The enemies Ciero’s Dawn Army faced were undead. A failure in their tactics didn’t just mean a lost battle; it meant the enemy’s strength would increase immediately.

That meant more undead for Isaac to deal with.

***

After the negotiations concluded…

As soon as Shalok exited the village, he signaled with both hands to indicate that all his fingers were intact.

Before long, people began emerging from the seemingly empty forest, one by one. Not a single one of them wore matching attire, giving them the appearance of a dubious group, rather than mercenaries. Still, each was capable of snapping the neck of an adult man with bare hands.

“Commander, nobody understands that signal, so why do you keep using it?”

“If you want to perform on stage, you should at least memorize hand signals! You still haven’t learned them?”

“You change the signal every time because you forget it yourself, so why bother? Anyway, how was the Holy Grail Knight everyone’s been talking about? The last time you saw him from a distance, you said, ‘We can’t beat that. Let’s just run,’ and this time, you went in person. We thought you’d given up.”

“I thought I’d misjudged him since he kept running away.”

“Since you came back alive, you must have been wrong, huh?”

Shalok stared into the distant sky and let out a deep sigh.

“No, I was right.”

Shalok’s talent for “valuing” things was more refined than Isaac realized.

He didn’t just measure bounties; he assessed various prices, such as how much someone would fetch as a slave, the value of selling off body parts, or the ransom if held hostage. His talent became more accurate the closer and more carefully he observed his target. He could even assign a price to each individual finger if he wished.

When Shalok finally got close enough to Isaac, he was able to evaluate him more precisely.

The result? Unmeasurable.

It meant no one could pay the price. It could be interpreted as “the price is whatever you can get,” but before that, it meant there wasn’t a single buyer or anyone willing to pay.

This usually happened in two cases:

One was when the person had no value whatsoever, a worthless existence. But Isaac, the famous Holy Grail Knight, certainly wasn’t that.

The second case was when the individual was under the divine protection of an absurdly powerful, godlike being. In such cases, no earthly entity could afford the price or deal with the consequences, making them unmeasurable. The only other beings Shalok had ever evaluated this way were Dera Heman and, from a distance, the Immortal Emperor Beshek.

And Leonora’s bounty?

Shalok didn’t think Leonora genuinely believed she could capture Isaac. She was merely using him as bait to torment Isaac.

‘Does this woman think I’m a pushover?’

If Shalok didn’t have his valuing talent, he might have ended up as just another thug caught in the snare, mindlessly harassing Isaac until he met his end.

But playing dead saved his life.

Of course, Shalok had his own trump cards, but when Isaac immediately recognized his talent, Shalok dropped the idea. He was convinced that Isaac would crush any secret weapon he might use and decapitate him without hesitation.

“So, what do we do now?”

The troupe members asked with concern.

They had doubted Shalok’s sanity when he proposed capturing a hero who had repelled Khan’s army, an esteemed warrior of Elil, and the Holy Grail Knight blessed by the Codex of Light. Now that they realized the reputations were no exaggeration, they were worried about going into the red.

Nothing was more valuable than life.

After a brief silence, Shalok finally spoke.

“Yeah, 100,000 coins aren’t enough to balance the books.”

“So, what…?”

“I’m going to ask Lady Leonora for a little extra fee.”

Shalok smirked.

Isaac had said he could continue as he was as long as he didn’t cross any lines. That meant he could carry out Leonora’s orders, get paid, and then settle accounts with Isaac afterward.

A business where he could extort money from both sides—nothing could be sweeter.

“You mentioned last time that a skilled Swordmaster from Elil joined, right? I’ll tell them I need some funds to recruit that guy.”

***

Isaac adjusted his course, veering slightly east instead of heading directly to Odryf.

It was a bit of a detour, but not far enough to be inconvenient. Especially since he figured Elil’s forces would be arriving around this time, it was worth checking in.

After crossing a long stretch of snow-covered mountains, a barren wasteland suddenly spread out before him.

Even from the sky, the stench of burning reached his nostrils: the acrid smell of burning crops, wood, and bodies.

Isaac directed Nel to lower their altitude.

The cold wind sliced sharply at his ears. The Galford Mountains blocked the southern moisture, leaving the air dry. Since there was no snow, the horrors were clearly visible.

Soon, Nel landed, kicking up a thick cloud of dust. Isaac surveyed the surroundings and frowned. It was a battlefield. There had clearly been a massive battle here, but surprisingly, the bodies were spaced at regular intervals, not piled up as expected.

‘Which means…’

As Isaac dismounted, just as he anticipated, the bodies around him began to twitch and move.

They were dormant zombies.

The zombies, instead of immediately attacking, let out a chorus of screams.

What began as one or two cries soon turned into the roars of dozens, then hundreds, echoing through the wasteland. Feeling annoyed, Isaac cut down one of the nearby zombies.

‘Siren Zombies.’

These were corpses captured by the Immortal Order and planted as a kind of living minefield. Their role was simple: rise when the living approached, alert the surroundings, and attack. There were hundreds of them scattered across this wasteland.

‘Which means there are living people nearby.’

Where there were alarm systems, there were intruders.

“Ooooooo!”

The zombies continued to howl as they charged. Isaac pulled out the Luadin Key, which was more effective against undead than Kaldwin.

The flickering blaze from the Luadin Key’s blade cut through the zombies like straw.

The flames emanating from the Luadin Key spread rapidly, consuming the zombies like a living creature, biting and burning them.

From somewhere beyond the horde, a scream echoed.

In the middle of the wasteland, a lone shack was under assault by the zombies. Whoever was inside seemed to have been hiding from the Siren Zombies, only to be attacked when Isaac triggered them.

The shack, which looked ready to collapse at any moment, drew Isaac’s attention. He signaled to Nel.

“Krrrraaaa!”

Nel inhaled deeply and unleashed a bolt of lightning. Half of the zombie horde crumbled under the lightning’s impact, unable to withstand its power. Isaac sprinted along the newly formed path.

As he burst through the door, another scream rang out. Inside, ragged people, looking like defeated stragglers, huddled together. A pitchfork jabbed toward Isaac, but it couldn’t even scratch his armor.

“A… A Paladin?”

One of them finally recognized him and spoke up. Just as Isaac was about to suggest they leave the zombies behind and escape, he noticed a man dressed in a priest’s robe hiding in the back.

Isaac immediately recognized who it was.

“Ciero?”