Immortal Paladin

With a casual flick of my wrist, I pulled out a pair of plush, cushioned chairs from my Item Box, like a magician producing a rabbit from a hat. I made a point to do it behind my back, letting them appear as if by magic. The way Gu Jie’s eyes widened in shock was honestly pretty satisfying.

After all, who’d waste their time to stuff their storage rings with chairs?

Yes, I had random furniture in my Item Box. Why? Because back in LLO, I had planned to sell them for quick cash. The game Lost Legends didn’t care if you stripped a dungeon down to its last crate, barrel, or decorative rug, and I admired that kind of creative freedom. If a chest wasn’t nailed down? Mine. If an entire throne room could be looted? Mine. The problem was that my PC exploded in my face, and now I was stuck in this xianxia world with enough furniture to start a small tavern.

Gu Jie, now fully clothed, meekly lowered herself onto the chair I had basically forced on her. The way she sat—stiff and hesitant—made it clear she wasn’t used to comfort. I settled into my own chair, exhaling as I leaned back.

Time for some answers.

I laced my fingers together, fixing Gu Jie with a neutral expression. Poker face engaged.

”Alright, let’s start with the obvious,” I said. ”Why turn to banditry?”

Gu Jie flinched slightly, her hands clenching into fists on her lap. ”...I needed resources,” she muttered.

”That’s vague.” I tapped my fingers against the armrest. ”What kind of resources?”

”Food. Medicine. Qi-nourishing herbs,” she listed quietly. ”I don’t have a sect. No connections. No patrons. I—” She exhaled through her nose, shoulders sagging. ”I don’t have anything.”

I tilted my head. No sect? No backers? That meant she was a rogue cultivator, someone without the support of a powerful faction. That explained a lot. Most sect-trained cultivators wouldn’t be this malnourished or this desperate.

”Fine,” I said. ”What’s your cultivation level?”

Gu Jie hesitated for half a second before responding. ”Martial-Tempering Realm. First Star, Late-Stage.”

That meant absolutely nothing to me.

I kept my poker face as I leaned forward slightly. ”And that means…?”

She blinked at me like I was stupid. ”It means I’m in the first major realm of cultivation?”

”Right. And there are how many realms?”

Gu Jie frowned, but she answered.

”There are eleven major realms in total. But I only know the first four. They’re called the Four Great Attributes.”

I nodded for her to continue.

”At the lowest is the Martial Tempering Realm,” she explained. ”It’s where the body is strengthened—muscles, bones, stamina, all of it. Most cultivators start here, refining their bodies before they move on to cultivating their minds.”

”Next?” I prompted.

”The Mind Enlightenment Realm,” she said. ”Cultivators at this stage develop their mental strength and sharpen their perception. Their senses, intuition, and ability to process qi improve significantly.”

I barely held back a grimace. The idea of fighting telepaths or precognitive warriors was… troubling.

Gu Jie continued, unaware of my mild existential crisis.

”Then comes the Will Reinforcement Realm. This is when a cultivator strengthens their intent, making their techniques more powerful. A person with an indomitable will can suppress weaker cultivators just by existing near them.”

That sounded like a nightmare to deal with.

”And the last one you know?”

”The Spirit Mystery Realm. This is when a cultivator starts forming a connection with the deeper mysteries of the world. Their qi refines further, and they gain abilities beyond normal comprehension. Some say this is where true cultivation begins.”

I let out a slow breath, mentally digesting everything she had just said.

Each realm, apparently, was divided into nine Stars, which were further categorized into Early-Stage, Mid-Stage, and Late-Stage.

Let me break that down:

1. Martial Tempering Realm → Nine Stars → (Each Star has Early, Mid, and Late stages.)

2. Mind Enlightenment Realm → Nine Stars → (Each Star has Early, Mid, and Late stages.)

3. Will Reinforcement Realm → Nine Stars → (Each Star has Early, Mid, and Late stages.)

4. Spirit Mystery Realm → Nine Stars → (Each Star has Early, Mid, and Late stages.)

And those were just the first four realms out of eleven.

My lips twitched.

I barely kept my poker face intact.

How the hell did anyone track this? I could already tell that higher realms probably had even more ridiculous subdivisions. At this point, why not just make an entire numbered ranking system instead of playing connect-the-dots with Stars and Stages?

Gu Jie studied me carefully, likely expecting some grand reaction. Instead, I exhaled calmly, schooling my features into the picture of polite interest.

”Alright,” I said, voice steady. ”That makes sense.”

(It didn’t, but I wasn’t about to admit that.)

I rubbed my chin thoughtfully. ”So… let’s say I meet someone who’s three Stars higher than me. How much stronger would they be?”

Gu Jie looked at me like I had asked whether water was wet.

”That depends,” she said carefully. ”A three-Star difference in the same realm might be manageable. But if they’re in a higher realm entirely, you’d be like an ant trying to fight a mountain.”

I did not like that comparison.

”And let me guess,” I said, sighing. ”There are cultivation geniuses who can fight people several realms above them.”

Gu Jie nodded. ”It’s rare, but it happens. Some people are born with heaven-defying talent. Others have powerful legacies or rare physiques that give them an edge. Those people… they don’t follow normal logic.”

Of course they don’t. Because this was a xianxia world, and nothing could ever be simple.

I leaned back in my chair, digesting everything I had learned.

Cultivation is absurdly complicated.I have no idea what my own ”realm” is.Some people can straight-up ignore this system and break reality anyway.Great. Just great.

I exhaled slowly, then gave Gu Jie a measured look.

”Alright,” I said. ”One last question.”

She tensed. ”Yes, Senior?”

”Where’s the best place to find information on cultivation?”

Gu Jie hesitated before answering. ”...If you want the best resources, the best manuals, the best knowledge—you’ll need to go to a major sect, an ancient clan, or a powerful city library.”

I hummed. ”And in this city?”

She bit her lip. ”The Golden Sun Pavilion. It’s the biggest library in Yellow Dragon City. But it’s… not open to just anyone.”

Of course, it wasn’t.

I sighed, already feeling a headache forming.

”Figures.”

Looks like I had a new destination.

I leaned forward, studying Gu Jie’s expression as I asked, “What do I need to do to enter the Golden Sun Pavilion?”

Gu Jie hesitated before answering. “You’d need the permission of the City Governor.”

I resisted the urge to groan. Of course, it wouldn’t be simple.

Going through the City Governor could mean a lot of things—political entanglements, drawing attention to myself, or worse, getting tangled up with the powerful sects that were apparently gathering in the city. I wasn’t sure if that was a risk I was willing to take yet.

For now, I needed to understand my own situation first.

I shifted gears. “Alright. Based on your perception, what cultivation realm do you think I’m at?”

Gu Jie’s lips pressed together as she studied me as if trying to weigh her words carefully. “Beyond the Fourth Realm, most likely.”

That was… concerning.

I tapped my fingers against the chair’s armrest. “Use your qi sense—if that’s even a thing—to tell me what realm I’m at.”

Gu Jie’s brows furrowed. “Senior, why are you asking such bizarre questions?” She hesitated, then continued, “It’s like you’re testing my knowledge on cultivation.”

I stayed silent, letting her work through her own thoughts.

After a pause, she muttered, “Is this because of your movement technique? That must be it…”

I narrowed my eyes. “Explain.”

Gu Jie swallowed, then lowered her head slightly, as if she was afraid to say something wrong. “That… step you did earlier, Senior. That was what broke me. I knew the moment you moved like that I had no chance against you. I… I sincerely have no idea in what realm you stand, Senior. I only wish to be spared.”

That was why she was being so submissive. From her perspective, I was a high-level cultivator with unfathomable strength, testing her out of either amusement or hidden intent.

The impression my Flash Step left was so strong she‘d rather strip than risk my wrath.

Gu Jie must have seen a similar technique.

I stayed silent, keeping my expression unreadable.

Gu Jie hesitated, then spoke again. “But… your question is strange, Senior. You must be throwing a trick question at me.”

I raised a brow. “And why’s that?”

“Because only those in the Second Realm gain access to something like Qi Sense.”

I schooled my features, hiding my thoughts behind a brooding expression. That was unexpected.

The question about qi sense had been a shot in the dark, but now I had confirmation that cultivators had a universal method of detecting power levels. That meant if I met someone more experienced, they’d try to sense my qi—and find nothing.

That alone was bad enough. But in another extreme, they might find something else… Ugh.

It would be terrible if they detected my mana and decided they needed to catch me for study. Who knew? Maybe even dissect me. Or worse, maybe they’d think my mana was dirty—some unnatural, forbidden force—and they’d kill me on the spot.

Just as this world functioned on the universal constant of qi, the world of Lost Legends functioned on mana. If the two weren’t compatible, or if I was viewed as something outside the natural order, then I could be in real trouble.

I resisted the urge to rub my temples. One wrong move and I could be seen as some freak anomaly.

No. I couldn’t let that happen.

For now, I needed to act like someone too powerful to be questioned. That meant letting them believe what they wanted.

I leaned back into my chair, mind already moving ahead. If Flash Step was something only those of higher cultivation could do, then I could use that as a bluff. It didn’t matter if I actually had qi or not—what mattered was that others believed I did.

For now, I’d keep Gu Jie’s assumption intact.

Better yet, I should do my best to stay under the radar and avoid attracting attention.

If people started digging into my origins, they might realize something wasn’t right. And if someone strong enough actually tested me, they might find nothing—no qi, no cultivation base, just… me.

That was the REAL worst-case scenario.

Being labeled an alien and hunted would be the death of me.

No, I had to be careful. Careful in what I revealed, careful in how I moved. If I played my cards right, I could keep people at arm’s length while still making use of their assumptions.

“Good answer,” I said at last.

Gu Jie let out a small breath of relief, clearly thinking she had passed whatever test she imagined I was giving her.

I looked toward the sky, deep in thought.

If I wanted real answers… I needed to get into the Golden Sun Pavilion.

And for that, I needed to make a choice.

But first, I needed to deal with this bandit.

I studied her for a moment before asking, “Have you ever harmed another person with ill intent?”

Her eyes flickered in surprise.

I activated Divine Sense.

It was one of those skills that felt a little unfair back in LLO. Originally intended as a scouting ability, it doubled as a lie detector when used correctly. The developers had a strange sense of humor, punishing players for everything from theft to bad quest choices. This skill was the kind of thing that could make or break negotiations in certain events.

Gu Jie hesitated, then said, “No.”

My skill confirmed the truth.

I nodded. “Good. You didn’t lie.”

She flinched.

That reaction was useful. A little fear was healthy—it would keep her honest.

I leaned forward, fingers tapping against the armrest of my chair. “Now, tell me your story.”

Gu Jie swallowed hard. She understood that this was a trial of sorts—a test to determine whether she lived or died.

Her eyes grew moist.

And then she spilled everything.

She had been an orphan, taken as a child by a demonic cultivator. She was raised in a world of shadows, fed a demonic technique that warped her body and left lasting damage. It was not a choice—it was a sentence.

Under this cruel guidance, she climbed to the Third Realm—the Will Reinforcement Realm.

And then, he stole her life force.

A bitter smile tugged at her lips as she recounted how her so-called “master” drained her cultivation, reducing her to the First Realm—crippling her progress, leaving her weaker than before.

She had barely escaped with her life.

She had been running ever since.

No wonder she looked so malnourished. The damage wasn’t just starvation—it was deep-rooted, a wound that went beyond the physical.

Her voice cracked slightly as she finished, “I had no choice… I just needed to survive.”

Silence stretched between us.

I stared at her, unreadable.

Then I sighed, rubbing my temple.

I tapped my fingers against the armrest of my chair, deep in thought. Gu Jie’s story was one of tragedy, but it wasn’t unique. This world was brutal—those with power took what they wanted, and those without suffered. I knew that much already.

In a way, there was a smidgen of truth in tropes.

I couldn’t ignore her suffering.

And, honestly? I had little opportunity to use my more magical skills, so I might as well take advantage of this chance.

I leaned forward slightly, exhaling.

Time to test something.

Raising my hand, I pointed at Gu Jie with my index finger.

“Divine Word: Life.”

The air trembled as golden energy coalesced around her. Vitality surged from within, her body instinctively reacting to the spell.

Gu Jie gasped as emerald and golden veins spread across her skin, pulsing with raw life energy. Her frame, once malnourished and frail, grew healthier—her cheeks gained color, her body filled out slightly with restored flesh and strength. Even her previously pallid complexion began to glow with newfound vitality.

The Divine Word series in Lost Legends Online was one of the most powerful single-target magic abilities in the game. Each word was absolute, dictating a fundamental force that either empowered or crippled.

Divine Word: Life was a buff spell.

In game terms, it added a second health bar on top of the target’s original one, alongside a powerful regeneration effect. It was a skill that could turn the tide of a losing battle—or, in this case, restore a broken person.

Gu Jie trembled, staring at her hands in disbelief.

”W-what… what did you just do to me?” Her voice was weak, almost afraid.

I didn’t answer immediately. Instead, I stood up, letting the weight of my actions sink in. Then, with a flick of my wrist, I vanished the chairs back into my Item Box as smoothly as I had conjured them.

I met her wide-eyed gaze and spoke evenly, “This was a once-in-a-lifetime encounter. I pray you’ll live a better life from now on.”

Gu Jie looked like she didn’t know whether to cry or kowtow.

Internally, I was kind of pleased with myself.

Damn, I sound like a fine paladin.