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Chapter 83:

The slab was unfinished.

Nothing was written on it, nor did it hold any power.

“This looks unfinished. It was made following the Dawn Slab, right?”

Eidan’s pupils darted around erratically. As Isaac moved the slab, Eidan’s eyes followed, openly revealing his intentions.

Isaac wondered why Eidan was so interested in the slab.

‘He doesn’t seem like a vessel destined to become a deity.’

Kalsen had enough achievements and power to attempt becoming a deity, for better or for worse. With the help of other gods, it seemed possible.

But the man before him, Eidan, looked nothing more than an ordinary merchant.

“Tell me what you planned to do with this.”

Eidan remained silent. Instead of pressing for an answer, Isaac raised the slab high, as if about to smash it. Eidan hastily spoke up.

“The Nameless Scripture! That’s the Nameless Scripture! We needed it for our council!”

“Council?”

Isaac frowned before speaking.

“Are you a follower of the Salt Council?”

The Salt Council was one of the Nine Faiths.

Once builders of a great empire, they were now on a path to ruin, continuously declining. The reason they were in such a state, despite being one of the Nine Faiths, was simple.

Isaac looked at the slab and said, “You thought this could become your scripture?”

Eidan looked at Isaac with desperate eyes.

The Salt Council had almost no scriptures, relics, or even temples. Naturally, they had few priests and limited miracles at their disposal.

They were in this state due to their own historical misdeeds, but Isaac could imagine they were trying to regain their former glory.

‘The Nameless Scripture…’

Isaac examined the slab.

Knowing its name gave him an idea of its purpose. Like the Dawn Slab recorded the Codex of Light’s teachings, this slab could record any deity’s messages or perhaps inscribe them itself.

The Salt Council, having lost their scripture and relics, was undoubtedly searching for the Nameless Scripture to rewrite the lost messages of their god.

‘And Kalsen wanted to inscribe his own doctrines to become a deity. Makes sense.’

A nation begins with its laws. Similarly, a religion might begin with its scriptures.

“If you knew about this scripture, you must know who made it, right? Tell me who collaborated with Lisfen Hendrake. Actually, I already know. Only the world’s forge masters could artificially create something like the Nameless Scripture.”

To shape an angel as one would clay and create something desired requires divine intervention or the involvement of the world’s forge masters. Of course, transcribing messages onto the Nameless Scripture after its creation is a task for a deity.

Eidan looked pained.

Isaac gestured for him to hurry up.

“The followers of the Salt Council can’t lie, right? Just say it. My business is with the world’s forge master, not you.”

The Salt Council’s followers are known for one thing:

They cannot lie.

This, too, is related to their history of losing their scripture.

Isaac wasn’t particularly interested in whether the Salt Council was searching for their scripture or relics. His interest lay in the world’s forge master, a universal craftsman.

However, as Eidan hesitated, Isaac, feigning to be a model knight, ignited the Luadin Key in his hand. The blade heated up in the darkness, illuminating the surroundings.

As the Luadin Key approached the Nameless Scripture, Eidan let out a shallow moan and began to speak.

Isaac thought it was time to offer a carrot and gently persuaded him.

“I need to ask the forge master for something. My goal is the recovery of holy relics and the eradication of monsters. I have no intention of troubling the forge master. Even though they are heretics, the forge masters are worthy of respect.”

“What is your request?”

“If you’re not a forge master, you don’t need to know.”

“…I know where the world’s forge master is.”

‘Exactly.’

This was Isaac’s aim all along.

Finding the reclusive forge master, hidden away in the world, particularly without venturing to their stronghold in the northern Svalbard archipelago, was next to impossible. However, if any of those hermit-like craftsmen had ventured into the continent, they needed to be secured. The forge master’s touch was essential for crafting items from the remains of an angel.

Isaac extinguished the heat of the Luadin Key, but the sword remained faintly aglow with a warm crimson light.

Eidan let out a sigh of relief and noticed the sword he was holding. Next to the Luadin Key, his own sword seemed no more substantial than a thin needle, so he dutifully sheathed it.

“Where is the forge master?”

“That depends… Could you tell me what the request is first?”

Instead of answering, Isaac playfully waved the still-glowing sword.

Eidan reluctantly said, “The forge master doesn’t meet people carelessly. If I bring someone they don’t know, they’ll flee.”

“They won’t be able to flee easily.”

“But you never know. If they escape, I won’t be able to meet them again. Rather than that, just make your request through me.”

“Request?”

The followers of the Salt Council were known not only as merchants and sailors but also as sought-after intermediaries due to their inability to lie. They had carved out a niche for themselves as honest brokers, connecting people while maintaining a neutral stance.

“The forge master collects necessary materials and meets others through me, instead of meeting petitioners directly. If there’s a request, I can relay it for you.”

“So, you want compensation for this request?”

Frankly, sparing his life should be enough, but followers of the Salt Council are desperate. The anticipation they placed in this “Nameless Scripture” wasn’t ordinary.

In fact, Eidan was looking thirstily at the slab in Isaac’s hands.

Isaac didn’t want the church or any other faction zealously pursuing him.

He decided to take the initiative.

“I’m assuming you’re not just a thieving scoundrel looking to trade a favor for the Nameless Scripture. Let’s build trust and compensation gradually.”

With that, Isaac glanced toward the angel.

“You wanted the angel, didn’t you?”

“Yes, actually, that alone would be enough.”

The Nameless Scripture was made from an angel.

Of course, it wasn’t made solely of angelic remains; a variety of divine powers, materials, and godly interventions were likely involved.

However, the fact that its base was angelic remained unchanged. That’s why Eidan had sneaked into this sealed mine.

“Alright. I’ll sell you the angel.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’ll sell a part of the angel’s remains at a fair price, then relay a message that I want to meet. But, they’ll also have to craft something I need. So, I must meet the forge master myself.”

Eidan looked shocked at the notion of selling the angel.

It’s considered sacrilegious to unearth an angel, let alone sell it to unknown parties.

Seeing doubt on Eidan’s face, Isaac strode forward and grasped the golden thread.

“Ah…!”

As Eidan gasped in shock, Isaac effortlessly snapped the golden threads and seals. Having already understood the weaknesses of the golden thread, and given that neither “Proof of Faith” nor “Sword of Judgment” could harm Isaac, it was natural there was no impact.

Isaac tore off all the golden threads and threw a piece of the angel’s wing to Eidan.

“Consider this an advance payment.”

He didn’t expect Eidan to run away with it. For followers of the Salt Council, a contract was sacred, even feared, unlike the Golden Idol followers who were more concerned with their lives than with honesty. The Salt Council would not lightly enter into agreements or promises unless their lives depended on it.

Eidan hesitated but eventually grasped the angelic fragment.

“I will arrange a meeting.”

Eidan’s acceptance of the deal implied that securing the angel was as crucial to him as a matter of life and death.

‘Of course, if he fails to arrange the meeting, it’ll become a matter as critical as life and death.’

Fortunately, it didn’t come to that.

Wrapping the angelic fragment carefully, Eidan bowed and hurried out of the cave.

In the darkness of the cave, from which Eidan had fled, Hesabel, who had been hanging upside down, peeked out.

“Should I follow him?”

“No.”

Sending a tracker might scare off the forge master, making things more complicated. Forge masters, due to their exceptional abilities, were highly sought after and thus extremely reclusive. (TL- Forge master – Blacksmith)

Isaac believed Eidan wouldn’t break his promise.

“He’s a follower of the Salt Council. He won’t break his promise.”

“The Salt Council…”

Hesabel murmured the name.

In the inland nation of Wallachia, encountering sailors was rare.

Until tracking Isaac, Hesabel had operated solely within Walraika and knew of the Salt Council only by name.

“What does a promise not being broken have to do with being a follower of the Salt Council?”

Isaac found it odd to be asked about ‘lore’ by Hesabel, an entity that could be considered part of the game world.

And he momentarily found himself at a loss for words. To Isaac, the fact that someone was a follower of the Salt Council meant ‘naturally’ they could not lie.

Because that was the game’s lore.

“To explain that, I’d have to tell you the epic that encompasses the origin myth of the Salt Council?”

“Is it a long story?”

Seeing Hesabel’s curious expression, Isaac sighed. It might be a seemingly irrelevant story, but Isaac decided to speak up to organize his thoughts.

He had suddenly become curious about the connection between the Salt Council and the world’s forge.

Isaac slowly began.

“The Salt Council was originally known by another name. They were called the Seafarers. The Seafarers worshipped an ancient deity from a city beneath the sea. They were once powerful enough to dominate the southern seas.”

Isaac remembered that this world loosely resembled the map of Europe. In the past, the Salt Council had influence comparable to Carthage, dominating North Africa and its islands. But now, only remnants of their past glory remained, and their religion was secretly passed among sailors.

“Why haven’t I heard of it?”

“It’s ancient history. Before the Codex of Light really got started. Even before the Immortal Order, not to mention Elil, the Red Chalice Club, or the World’s Forge.”

The nine faiths that dominate the current world all emerged after the Codex of Light began rewriting the rules. Other minor deities either died off or were subsumed, cooperating with or subjugated by the Codex of Light.

“Anyway, at that time, the Seafarers were virtually the world’s superpower in their heyday. But facing their arrogance due to their strength… a change began.”

“A change?”

“Luadin appeared.”

The first prophet who emerged from the flames of a pyre with the ‘Dawn Slab’, the so-called Codex of Light, transforming what was just a local faith into a legitimate religion and eventually ascending as the first angel.

He marked the end of the era of ancient deities.

“It could be said that the era of gods is divided before and after Luadin’s appearance, such was the historic significance of the event.”

“Luadin was being pursued by an empire that worshipped other ancient deities. He was burned at the stake, only to return to life, but his followers were still weak. Eventually, Luadin led his followers westward, away from the holy land.”

The ‘holy land’ mentioned in the myth is the same one the White Empire so desperately wants to reclaim.

Currently under the control of the Black Empire.

“Luadin, wandering aimlessly westward, encountered the sea. And the sea’s rulers at the time, the Seafarers. Luadin negotiated with them to cross the sea with his followers in exchange for payment. However, the Salt Council did not keep their promise.”

The reason the Salt Council failed to cooperate is not clearly defined in the lore.

It could have been greed for more money, avoiding conflict with forces trying to capture Luadin, or perhaps simply fearing that Luadin’s burning body might damage their ships.

The flame of Luadin not causing harm to anyone might not have been very important.

“Luadin waited for three days, but the sailors did not cooperate. Instead, they mocked and insulted Luadin standing at the harbor. Then, Luadin petitioned the Codex of Light to punish the sailors’ arrogance.”

“Punishment?”

“For three days, the sun did not set. The sea became fiercely hot. The boiling sea made the sailors regret too late as they screamed and pleaded, but the sun did not move.”

Isaac paused the story and fell silent.

Was this punishment a feasible miracle? If such power existed, why not confront the opposing forces directly?

Well, the contents of myths aren’t all rational.

“And as time passed, all that was left where the sea had been was a vast desert of salt. The once mighty fleet of sailors, the priests of salt, sacred relics, and cities beneath the sea were all trapped under hundreds of meters of salt desert.”

Hesabel seemed to feel her blood drying up just from listening, touching her lips.

“And Luadin and his followers walked over the dried salt desert. Afterwards, they survived to establish the Order of the Codex of Light. But the sailors…”

Isaac thought of how that brilliant faith collapsed in an instant and bitterly smiled. The reason for the empire’s downfall was just one broken promise.

“…their lineage was cut off and scattered across the world. Since then, they have been wandering in search of the legacy of a lost nation, renaming themselves the Salt Council, seeking to recover the lost scriptures.”

“So, they can’t break a promise.”

“It became a collective trauma for the order. Even if they hide the truth, once spoken, they won’t lie.”

This isn’t merely a psychological issue. In the game, lying was literally impossible, which was implemented as a penalty. Of course, this came with its own set of consequences.

‘I liked the depressing setting of being a descendant of a fallen faith… But now, the Salt Council and the World’ Forge Order appearing at the same time? What curse is on this place?’

Considering everything, this domain is eyed by four faiths: the Codex of Light, the Red Chalice, the Salt Council, and the World’ Forge.

Including Isaac, that’s Nameless Chaos, and indirectly, the Immortal Order, making six.

Having six out of nine faiths interested is no ordinary matter.

‘Thinking about the remaining Elil, the Golden Idol, and Olkan Code being neutral or isolationist, it’s like all possible faiths have gathered. So, they’ve been noticing something all along, even if no secrets have been revealed? Or were they predicting the birth of a new faith from this point on?’