Immortal Paladin

I narrowed my eyes at the small, delicate scoop in my hand. The paper-thin net quivered as I dipped it into the water, carefully aiming for one of the goldfish swimming lazily in the tank. My movements were precise—calculated. I’m a paladin, damn it. I should have inhuman dexterity, my body refined beyond mortal limits.

And yet—

Rip.

The moment I tried to lift the net, the fragile paper tore instantly.

I stared blankly at the water, watching as the goldfish swam away unbothered, my scoop now a useless metal ring.

The arcade stall owner, an old man with a shit-eating grin, chuckled from behind the counter. “Hah! Another one down!”

I clenched my teeth and resisted the urge to snap the stupid wooden pole in my hands.

No. No, I wasn’t going to let some rigged festival game get to me. I wasn’t some dumb kid throwing tantrums over a carnival prize. I had patience, skill, and inhuman stats backing me up.

I thought about my Dexterity stat, a number that should put me above most martial artists in this world. I was superhuman, for crying out loud!

Yet here I was. Failing. Again.

The smug owner leaned against the counter, his arms crossed. “Give up yet, kid?”

I huffed and grabbed another scoop from the stack. “Tch. Just you wait.”

The moment I dipped it into the water, the goldfish scattered like they knew I was coming.

...Wait.

Did they know?

I narrowed my eyes at the water. Were these spirit goldfish or something? Did this stall owner actually have cultivated fish trained to dodge nets?!

Another careful motion. Another attempt.

Rip.

Another failure.

The old man snorted, barely holding back laughter. “That’s six losses in a row, boy. You sure you don’t wanna call it?”

I stared at the tiny fish mocking me with their little fish faces.

This game was rigged.

I was faster than a normal person, more precise than a normal person, and had refined control over my movements. In theory, I could just use superspeed, snatch the damn fish out of the water with my bare hands, and walk away victorious.

But I wasn’t going to cheat.

I was better than that.

Even if it meant losing to a bunch of stupid, slippery fish.

I sighed and dropped the scoop onto the counter. “You win.”

The stall owner beamed, throwing his arms up. “Hah~! Suck it~!”

I inhaled deeply. Let it go. Let it go.

I had survived the hell called college, endured a PC explosion to the face, transmigrated with my sanity somehow intact, and even dominated Lost Legends Online as its top Paladin for a long time.

Yet here I was. Losing to a smug grandpa running a goldfish stall.

I exhaled sharply through my nose, staring at the goldfish swimming mockingly just out of reach. My paper scoop had disintegrated again, reduced to a soggy mess in my hand.

The stall owner let out a wheezing laugh, slapping his knee. “Hah! Suck it, loser! Go home!”

I stared at him.

Thankfully, I was a Paladin.

That meant I had patience. Self-control. Restraint.

If I were a barbarian, orc, or some evil-aligned character, this old man would have been launched across the festival grounds by now. Maybe his stall, too. Probably his entire livelihood.

But no. I was civilized. Honorable. Benevolent.

I threw the useless remnants of my paper scoop onto the counter. “You win.”

The old man looked so smug I had to resist the urge to bless him with Holy Smite right then and there.

Instead, I turned on my heel and left before I did something that would require a Divine Pardon.

As I wove through the bustling festival streets, my mind cooled. The energy in the air was infectious—laughter, lively chatter, the occasional firework bursting in the distance. Performers spun through the crowds, balancing on stilts or breathing flames, while vendors shouted about their wares.

Then, I nearly bumped into a child waving a handful of colorful flyers.

“Sir! Sir! Take one!” The kid beamed at me, stuffing the paper into my hands before scampering off to shove it into someone else’s face.

I raised a brow and unfolded the flyer.

Yellow Dragon City’s Grand Festival Itinerary

Day 1: Welcoming the honorable guests from the sects and clans.Day 2: Elimination Round hosted by the City Governor for the dueling event.Day 3: Dueling Event - Best 8.Day 4: Quarter Finals.Day 5: Semi-Finals.Day 6: Grand Finals.Day 7: Grand Feast.Huh. So this was a seven-day event.

No wonder so many cultivators had descended on the city—it wasn’t just about the festival. This was a full-scale martial tournament. A stage for the young elites to show off their strength, gain reputation, and, most likely, recruit new talent.

I tapped my fingers against the flyer. Day 2’s elimination round was tomorrow.

Which meant if I wanted to watch, I had until today to get a ticket.

…Where did I even buy one?

“Senior, have some.”

I barely stopped myself from flinching.

Gu Jie had appeared from my blind spot, stepping into view like a ghost. I hadn’t noticed her until she spoke.

That was... unsettling.

I didn’t turn around fully, just let her catch up to my side as we continued walking through the crowded festival streets.

In her hands were two sticks of tanghulu—glossy, candied hawthorn skewered neatly in a row. She held one out to me without hesitation.

I took it.

It didn’t take much to guess what this was about.

She must have interpreted my earlier admonishment as an order. A command to actually enjoy the festival.

I bit into the tanghulu. The crunchy shell cracked under my teeth, releasing the tart sweetness of the fruit inside. Not bad.

My gaze flickered toward Gu Jie, who was still holding her own stick, hesitating.

I wasn’t big on followers.

Even as a Paladin, I had always preferred solo play. I particularly enjoyed PVP. It was simpler. No waiting on teammates, no worrying about their mistakes, no unnecessary drama.

But this wasn’t a game.

This was a strange world with probably no respawns.

Having an ally or two might not be the worst idea.

I chewed thoughtfully. “So how did the other errand I told you about go?”

Gu Jie perked up, though there was a hint of nervousness in her expression. “The books? I will pick them up from an acquaintance the day after tomorrow.”

She fidgeted slightly.

That was… surprising.

Someone as sharp as her had no reason to be this skittish over a simple book purchase.

I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye.

Something was on her mind.

So, I asked plainly.

“What’s on your mind?”

Gu Jie hesitated for half a second, then spoke. “Haven’t caught up on your name, Senior.”

Ah. So she wanted to know my name.

I glanced at her, chewing the last of my tanghulu before answering, “David. My name is David.”

Gu Jie blinked. “Huh?”

I smirked, recalling Liang Na’s terrible butchering of my name. Might as well lean into it.

“But you can call me Da Wei.”

Gu Jie pursed her lips, as if rolling the name around in her head. Then, to my mild surprise, she asked:

“Can I call you Master?”

I shrugged. “Whatever floats your boat.”

Her lips curled into a small smile. “Thank you, Master.”

And then she looked up at me—tilting her head slightly, gazing through dark lashes, her brown eyes slightly glossy, the perfect imitation of an obedient disciple trying to look adorable.

…Nope. Not buying it.

I knew I should be cautious around her. Xianxia tropes demanded that what I had here was either:

A treasonous wench with ulterior motives.A Type-1 dumbass heroine whose sole existence was to make the protagonist look awesome.Unfortunately, both options only applied to protagonists—and I didn’t want to be that protagonist. Or as that of matter, any protagonist.

More than that, I was a Paladin first and foremost. And if there was one thing I tried to do, it was see the good in people.

Besides, Gu Jie was only a human being.

Her sickly pallor had faded after some actual food and relaxation. Her once-ragged hair had been cut and washed, falling smoothly over her shoulders. The dark robes she wore—embroidered subtly with golden dragons—fit her as if she belonged to a proper sect.

She looked like a cultivator.

But in the end... still human.

Not some starving bandit who had barely survived on scraps.

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. “Go buy me a ticket for the dueling event tomorrow.”

Gu Jie’s eyes sharpened slightly, but she nodded. “Yes, Master.”

Without another word, she turned on her heel and walked away, quickly melting into the festival crowd.

I watched her disappear.

While she was only a First Realm cultivator, she had managed to survive for this long. That meant she had tricks—ones I wasn’t aware of yet.

Keeping her at my side had its advantages.

And I wasn’t kidding when I decided some time ago that I would rehabilitate this one bandit.

Consider it a side quest.

I wandered the streets for a while, letting my thoughts drift as I took in the sights of the festival preparations. Eventually, I found myself near a small eatery. A young server, dressed in simple robes, was slumped against the wall, clearly on break.

I stepped closer. “Care to earn a quick coin while still being able to rest?”

The server cracked an eye open, looking at me with suspicion. “Sounds too good to be true.”

I tossed a copper coin into the air and caught it. “Depends on how much you like talking.”

The server straightened slightly, interest piqued. “I’m listening.”

I sat down on a nearby bench. “I just need some local information. What’s going on with the festival? Who’s in charge? Any interesting rumors?”

The server sighed, stretching their arms. “Hah… so you’re one of those outsiders trying to get a leg up, huh?”

I smiled. “Something like that.”

Truthfully, I wasn’t completely satisfied with what I’d learned from Gu Jie. There were still too many gaps in my knowledge.

I had taken her as a follower, but that didn’t mean I could trust her yet. She was still in a probationary period, and while I liked to see the good in people, a little bit of caution never hurt anyone.

More importantly, I needed to cross-examine what she had told me.

“Alright,” the server said, rubbing their chin. “For a coin, I’ll tell you what I know.”

I flipped the copper coin in my palm before flicking it toward the server. He caught it mid-air with the smoothness of someone used to handling money.

“Alright,” he said, rubbing his thumb over the coin, “ask away.”

I leaned back. “What do you know about cultivators?”

The server scoffed, shaking his head. “Same thing as everywhere else, I suppose. Cultivators are like gods. People revere them, fear them, and avoid them when possible. They can summon storms with a flick of their hands and tear apart mountains like it’s nothing.”

I hummed, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. “And cultivation realms?”

His face blanked. “Cultivation realms?”

“Yeah, you know, like how strong they get?”

The server frowned, clearly out of his depth. “Beats me. I’m just a commoner. All I know is that the stronger they get, the less they bother with folks like us.”

That was… disappointing.

I had hoped to cross-examine what Gu Jie had told me earlier, but it seemed that knowledge about cultivation and its realms was vague and scarce in this region. If even a city-dweller had no clue, then most common folk probably didn’t, either.

What a bummer.

I exhaled, changing my approach. “How about more mundane stuff, then?”

“Depends on what you mean by mundane,” the server replied.

I smirked. “Let’s start simple—what’s the name of this continent?”

He raised a brow, eyeing me like I was an idiot. “You a lost foreigner or something?”

“Something like that.”

He shrugged. “Riverfall Continent.”

That was good to know. Now I wouldn’t sound like a fool when someone else mentioned it.

“And what about this city? Who runs it?”

“City Governor, of course,” he said, rubbing his temples. “You really ain’t from around here, huh?”

“Indulge me.”

The server sighed before continuing, “Our City Governor is an imperial prince sent by the Empire. This city’s thriving because of his wisdom, they say. Trade, roads, even the festival—it’s all under his rule.”

A massive empire ruling over this continent… That was a crucial piece of information. It meant that while the city was prospering, it was not independent.

I leaned forward slightly. “And this Empire… it’s the strongest force in Riverfall?”

The server chuckled. “If it wasn’t, we’d be ruled by someone else, wouldn’t we?”

Fair enough.

While the guy had limited perspective, what he lacked in knowledge, he made up for in honesty and insight. This kind of information might not be groundbreaking, but it was practical knowledge, and practical knowledge kept people alive.

I gave him a nod. “Appreciate the chat.”

The server grinned, pocketing his coin. “Anytime. Just don’t go asking around about cultivators too much. Folk might think you’re looking for trouble.”

Noted.