“As you may know, the Issacrea Dawn Army is not made up of my subordinates, but rather a coalition of allies. In order to prevent a division within this alliance, I had no choice but to discipline the inquisitor for his insults. However, I do apologize for the fact that His Holiness’s missive was cast to the ground in the process.”
Isaac’s humble and respectful demeanor as he addressed the situation left a deep impression on the paladins, a sharp contrast to Soltnar. Here was a man regarded as one of the strongest paladins in the empire, standing before them with such modesty. It was, by all accounts, the behavior of a model knight.
Yet, Dera Heman showed no reaction to Isaac’s humility. With a neutral expression behind his golden lion mask, he simply gestured in silence.
Isaac interpreted this indifference positively. At least Dera Heman wasn’t easily swayed by the inquisitor’s words.
“The commander says he has no authority to judge this matter,” the aide translated, though he too seemed impressed by Isaac.
“His only orders are to take command and oversee the operation as a substitute. Anything else should be brought to His Holiness’s attention. Are you ready to comply, Holy Grail Knight?”
“Of course.” Isaac nodded confidently.
“However,” Isaac continued, “I’m not sure if my allies are equally prepared. Surely, you didn’t come all this way to lead a fractured and hollow shell of the Issacrea Dawn Army, did you?”
The aide raised an eyebrow. “What are you suggesting?”
“I propose a contest.”
Isaac’s eyes locked onto Dera Heman’s.
“Prove that you are a better paladin than I am. Show that you are more capable, more virtuous, and that you can lead this coalition with greater fairness and wisdom than I can. If you can do that, everyone will agree to follow you.”
The word contest cast a heavy silence over the group.
For a few moments, the air was thick with awkwardness until a soft snicker broke the tension. From that snicker, laughter quickly spread among the paladins.
“A contest? Surely you aren’t suggesting a duel, Holy Grail Knight?”
“Ha! You’ve spent too much time with those Elil knights. Their penchant for dueling has rubbed off on you!”
Most of the laughter carried the tone of mockery, as if saying, “A novice like you challenging Dera Heman? Ridiculous.” Isaac, however, welcomed their laughter. The more they laughed, the better. He simply smiled, without reacting to their jeers.
The only ones not laughing were Soltnar and Dera Heman—the latter’s expression concealed behind his mask.
Soltnar, however, saw through Isaac’s ploy.
It was this closeness that sometimes led entire orders to turn if a single paladin went rogue.
Within such an order, the commander was akin to a patriarch. While grumbling among themselves was one thing, outsiders meddling in their affairs was an entirely different matter.
‘Damn these people,’ Soltnar cursed inwardly.
Both Isaac and Dera Heman were beyond the reach of his authority as an inquisitor. They didn’t fear him, nor did they fear the Codex of Light.
And it was clear that, at least here, no one cared about Soltnar’s righteous anger.
Isaac, satisfied with Dera Heman’s response, turned his gaze toward the sea.
“I have the perfect location in mind.”
***
As Isaac had predicted, Dera Heman accepted the duel.
The paladins of the Golden Lion order were surprised by the decision, but none of them believed that their legendary commander would lose to a mere Holy Grail Knight.
Though Dera Heman rarely left the capital, his reputation was nothing short of mythical among his comrades.
Still, when the aide saw the location Isaac had chosen for the duel, a sense of unease crept over him.
“Milishar Monastery? Isn’t that place abandoned?”
“There weren’t many other suitable places for a duel without outside interference. And surely, the Golden Lion Paladins need a place to stay as well, do they not?”
Isaac’s deliberate choice of Milishar Monastery was not lost on the Golden Lion Paladins’ aide. Having served Dera Heman for many years, the aide knew all too well the significance of this place. He was aware of Dera Heman’s duel with Kalsen Miller and the wounds it had left, even if they were never openly discussed. He worried that this place might stir up old memories for Dera Heman.
But as always, Dera Heman’s expression was hidden behind his golden lion mask, unreadable.
Not long after, they arrived near the monastery, only to find an unexpected group awaiting them. Shalok, Leonora, and a small force of mercenaries stood nearby. Leonora approached with a warm smile.
“Thank you for coming all the way out to this remote area. I am Leonora Bessia, Vice-Leader of the Golden Idol Guild. We’ve made some preparations for your stay, including refurbishing the facilities and stocking supplies for your convenience.”