“What nonsense have you come to spew this time?” Isaac asked with a sarcastic tone.

Kalsen chuckled bitterly at Isaac’s attitude, brushing a hand over his weathered lips before speaking slowly.

“Take Dera Heman’s offer, Isaac.”

“Why?” Isaac asked, genuinely curious.

“Dera’s a straight-laced man. He’s a devout believer in the Codex of Light and utterly incapable of suspicion. The only reason he’s still alive is because of the Codex. Every day he lives is a miracle to him.”

Isaac thought about Dera Heman’s life.

His appearance, unsettling to anyone who saw him. His body, unable to survive without the constant help of high-ranking priests and holy relics.

It was only the Codex of Light that gave him the means and purpose to continue living.

Isaac could understand Dera’s profound faith.

“But how does that give me any reason to follow him?” Isaac asked.

“Because you need to guide him. Dera is too valuable to die, just to be used as a sword until he’s spent.”

Isaac laughed dryly.

They were both saying opposite things. Dera wanted to guide Isaac, while Kalsen was suggesting Isaac should be the one guiding Dera.

It wasn’t entirely absurd, though. The relationship between a master and disciple could be symbiotic—they both influenced each other. As a master taught, they themselves grew.

The problem was that Isaac had no intention of making Dera Heman his mentor or his pupil.

“So, it really is you, Kalsen, and not just some figment,” Isaac said with a smirk.

“What?”

“The paladin who fell into ruin due to his pride, Kalsen Miller. It must be you. Dera is already a finished product. Neither you nor I have the qualifications to teach or guide him. Dera will never change.”

Isaac had come to this conclusion after many attempts to manipulate Dera Heman.

Dera was the embodiment of the Codex of Light’s ideals—a paladin who would never falter or betray his faith.

When it was time to fight, Dera would fight. When it was time to die, he would die. Nothing more, nothing less.

Trying to change him was like attempting to alter the path of a typhoon.

It was impossible.

Kalsen narrowed his eyes at Isaac, who was curious about how Kalsen really viewed Dera Heman. He hadn’t had many chances to understand Kalsen’s inner thoughts. He only knew that, despite defeating Dera, Kalsen hadn’t thought much of it and hadn’t taken any pride in the victory.

“And right now, I’ve got bigger problems than Dera. If I follow him, don’t you think he’ll quickly figure out what’s inside me? What do you think will happen first—Dera discovering my secret, or me seducing him with my ‘demonic charm’?” Isaac asked sarcastically.

“…”

Kalsen had no immediate retort, which Isaac found amusing.

‘Does he pity him?’

The strongest paladin of the Codex of Light, Dera Heman, had said he was weaker than Kalsen, while Kalsen himself saw Dera as ‘pitiful.’

A foot soldier caught up in the chaos of the Ciero Dawn Army would be furious at such thoughts.

Isaac suddenly thought that perhaps he could use this peculiar relationship.

“But if Dera follows me instead, that’s a different story,” Isaac said.

“…What?”

“I mean, if I defeat Dera Heman, the whole game changes. To be honest, when I fought him, I hit a wall. His swordsmanship shook the very foundation of my own. I couldn’t think of a way to beat him using conventional methods.”

Perhaps if Isaac was ready to die, he could push the battle to a razor-thin margin. But every outcome he could imagine ended with Dera narrowly winning, thanks to his overwhelming divine power.

“The only way to shake Dera, just like you did, is to defeat him.”

Isaac said this while locking eyes with Kalsen, his gaze calm and measured.

As he had said earlier, Dera Heman was like a typhoon. Trying to change its course was foolish. The only option was to harness the wind from the storm to move the sails of his own ship.

“You could defeat him with just your swordsmanship, right?”

“…Yes,” Kalsen answered quietly. Despite being within Isaac, Kalsen was aware of everything happening to and within his body.

Kalsen was confident he could defeat Dera Heman.

“Dera Heman is judging me based on who I was when we first fought. Back then, I had already reached the pinnacle of what a paladin could achieve with a sword. But I’ve grown stronger since then, beyond that limit.”

“Why didn’t I learn that?” Isaac asked.

“Blame your teacher,” Kalsen replied with a wry smile.

“Your swordsmanship is based on the most fundamental style—the Saint Arte technique. I mastered that in my apprenticeship. But my true swordsmanship is something else, influenced by heretical techniques. There are plenty of insane swordsmen in the Immortal Order who had centuries to lose themselves in their craft.”

Isaac nodded. He knew about those fanatics.

Never eating, never sleeping, and never tiring, they had spent hundreds of years honing the things they loved. The Immortal Order was full of such lunatics.

“They took a completely different path from the Saint Arte style. You trained under Gebel, so you never had the opportunity to learn or even be influenced by it. Maybe if your experiences in the East were more diverse, it would have been different.”

Isaac tilted his head at Kalsen’s response.

“…Are you getting arrogant again?”

“What?”

“I get that you’re a genius, Kalsen, but it’s not like I’ve been slacking off. Just because I’ve been influenced by you doesn’t mean that’s the only reason Dera countered my swordsmanship. I think Dera Heman didn’t even use his full power against me.”

Dera was strong—maybe even stronger than Kalsen realized.

The fact that Dera constantly believed he was still weak and kept pushing himself was what made him truly terrifying and powerful.

Isaac thought about it for a moment, then shrugged.

“But regardless, there’s no solution right now. Since I’m lacking confidence, I might as well learn from your arrogance. Teach me that swordsmanship.”

Kalsen was taken aback by Isaac’s casual demand, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

“Now? In one day? Do you think swordsmanship is like stuffing a sack of potatoes?”

“You must not know how fast I learn.”

Of course, it was because Isaac had consumed Kalsen, but there was no need to bring that up.

Kalsen, having watched Isaac for a long time, was well aware of how quickly he could learn. But that only made him more realistic about what was possible.

“Go ahead, try teaching me. Otherwise, my head might be hanging from the gallows by tomorrow.”

After a long pause, Kalsen finally spoke.

“There is… one way.”