Immortal Paladin

A blood-red sky loomed over an endless wasteland of fire and ruin. Jagged obsidian spires jutted from the ground like the ribs of a rotting beast. In the distance, rivers of molten lava carved their way through the desolation, their heat suffocating and all-consuming.

Lu Gao stood at the precipice of a broken bridge, staring down into the abyss below. Chains clattered in the distance. A grotesque symphony of wails and laughter echoed through the air, the kind that burrowed into the soul and festered like an unhealed wound.

Then, from the darkness, it emerged.

A horned demon, wreathed in black flames, stepped forward. Its eyes burned with a sickly golden light, filled with neither hatred nor malice—only hunger. Its grin stretched unnaturally wide, revealing rows of jagged teeth.

It wasn’t the same demon

”Why do you struggle, child of ambition?” the demon purred, its voice layered with countless whispers.

Lu Gao tried to move, but his body felt heavy, as though unseen hands were pulling him down. The ground beneath him cracked, skeletal hands clawing their way to the surface. They grasped at his ankles, his wrists, his throat—pulling, dragging, drowning him in a tide of suffering.

The demon took a step closer.

”You have been marked. The deeper you tread the path of the blessed, the clearer you see us, the closer you bring yourself to our grasp. You are not a savior, Lu Gao. You are a gate.”

The abyss yawned beneath him.

Then, he fell.

Lu Gao woke up with a sharp gasp, his breath ragged and uneven. His body was drenched in sweat, his heart pounding against his ribs. The lingering echoes of screams still rang in his ears.

A warm hand touched his shoulder.

”You’re awake,” Ren Xun said. His voice was calm, but there was a slight crease of worry in his brow.

Lu Gao took a deep breath, steadying himself before sitting up. His hands trembled slightly as he wiped the sweat from his face.

”I’m fine,” he muttered.

Ren Xun didn’t look convinced. ”You’ve been having these dreams more often, haven’t you?”

Lu Gao hesitated. It had been a few weeks since he first learned the spell Bless, and ever since, his dreams had become more vivid, more terrifying. At first, they were nothing but fleeting images—shadows in the corner of his vision, whispers that faded upon waking. But now… now they felt real.

The heat, the pain, the suffocating despair. He could remember them all too clearly.

”I’m fine,” he repeated, more firmly this time. Then, without another word, he raised his hand and cast Bless on himself.

A warm light surrounded him, like the touch of the sun breaking through dark clouds. The trembling in his hands stopped, and his breathing evened. The remnants of his nightmare faded, though he knew they would return.

Ren Xun watched him for a long moment before sighing. ”If you say so.”

Lu Gao forced a smirk. ”I do.”

But even as the divine light wrapped around him, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something—someone—was watching him from beyond.

Lu Gao rubbed his temples as the remnants of his dream faded. The lingering sensation of claws grasping at his throat sent an unpleasant shiver down his spine.

He sat up and stretched his arms, the stiffness in his muscles easing slightly. His gaze wandered around, taking in their surroundings. ”Where are we?” he asked, his voice rough from sleep.

Ren Xun, who had been leaning lazily against the ship’s railing, glanced over. ”Still in Evernight,” he answered. ”One more warp, and we should be in the next continent over.”

Lu Gao blinked, then turned his attention to their boat—the Floating Dragon. It was currently perched on the side of a jagged cliff, suspended as if it had always belonged there. He frowned.

”Is this safe?” he asked hesitantly.

Ren Xun scoffed, arms crossed. ”Of course it’s safe.” He sounded almost offended by the question. ”Master Da Wei made sure of it. You worry too much.”

Lu Gao sighed, deciding not to press further. If the ship hadn’t fallen yet, then maybe it really was fine.

He yawned, running a hand through his hair. ”Where’s Master and Senior Jie?”

Ren Xun didn’t even look up as he answered. ”Training, of course.”

Lu Gao exhaled sharply through his nose. Training, huh? Again?

He would be lying if he claimed he wasn’t envious of Gu Jie for being granted the official rank of disciple. It had happened so suddenly, but in hindsight, he should’ve seen it coming. There was something about her that made Master Da Wei treat her differently—something that set her apart.

Lu Gao clenched his fists. He knew he had to prove himself. He couldn’t let himself be defined by the taint in his soul, the stain of being demon-possessed. One day, he would cleanse himself of it.

A flicker of movement caught his eye.

He turned and found himself staring into the round, unblinking eyes of the goldfish.

Ren Jingyi stared at him. He stared back.

She didn’t say anything, nor did she need to. The message was clear.

Lu Gao sighed.

It was bad enough that he had to compete with Gu Jie, but now he also had this smug little fish to worry about. Master Da Wei can only have one star pupil, huh?

He sighed again, heavier this time.

”You know, it’s kind of incredible,” Ren Xun mused.

Lu Gao cracked an eye open. ”What is?”

Ren Xun leaned against the railing of the Floating Dragon, smirking. ”The fact that you can cast a spell despite having no qi in your system. Not to mention…” He gestured vaguely, ”…the whole broken dantian thing.”

Lu Gao exhaled, brushing the comment off. ”It’s not a big deal. You’ll probably get it right faster than me and the fish.”

Ren Xun blinked in confusion. ”The fish?”

Lu Gao nodded toward Ren Jingyi, who was floating nearby, her round eyes unblinking as she lazily swayed her tail.

Ren Xun gave him a skeptical look. ”What does a fish have to do with this?”

Lu Gao shrugged. ”The spell comes easily to those of pure and righteous heart.”

For a moment, there was silence.

Then Ren Xun let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head. ”Pure and righteous? Yeah, that’s not me. I have… impulses that would say otherwise.” He smirked. ”You of all people should know.”

Lu Gao wasn’t convinced.

Sure, Ren Xun liked to joke about being some shameless and lecherous cultivator when Master Da Wei wasn’t looking, but Lu Gao didn’t buy it. He remembered the way Ren Xun’s eyes softened when he spoke of the woman he fell in love with at first sight. Not some seductive courtesan or noble beauty, but a beggar. A woman no one else would have looked at twice.

Lu Gao wasn’t the type to pry, but it was obvious Ren Xun’s heart wasn’t as impure as he liked to pretend.

Ren Xun, perhaps sensing where Lu Gao’s thoughts were drifting, let out a theatrical sigh and wandered off to his corner of the boat. He pulled out a strip of dried jerky and started chewing on it absentmindedly.

Meanwhile, Lu Gao settled back down, focusing on his next challenge.

Blessed Weapon.

A spell that would imbue a weapon with divine energy, making it more effective against evil beings. He needed this. If he wanted to stand a chance, if he wanted to prove himself, he had to master this spell.

He closed his eyes and began meditating on the incantation, steadying his breath, his thoughts.

…And then he felt it.

A stare.

He opened his eyes, only to find Ren Jingyi still floating there. Watching him. With a dumb, unreadable expression.

Lu Gao twitched.

”What?” he asked, exasperated.

The goldfish blinked slowly.

Lu Gao groaned and turned away, doing his best to ignore her.

It wasn’t easy.

Just because he and the fish could use the Bless spell, it didn’t mean they had become Paladins.

Master Da Wei had been clear about that.

”The path I walk is not one of righteousness, nor of blind devotion,” he had said, his voice carrying the weight of something far older than himself. ”It is a path of understanding, of will. I can guide you into inheriting my Legacy, but it is up to you to choose if you will walk it.”

Lu Gao had no idea what a Legacy really was. Or Mana, for that matter.

But he did remember the first time he had cast Bless—that subtle brush with an unknowable force, something vast and deep. It had felt familiar somehow, eerily close to the presence of the demon that had once possessed him. Yet, at the same time, it was fundamentally different.

Where the demon had been suffocating, oppressive, this force had been… boundless. Neither welcoming nor rejecting him. Simply there.

Lu Gao was deep in thought when suddenly—

Fwsh!

Gu Jie appeared out of nowhere, materializing onto the deck of the Floating Dragon in a blink of an eye.

”Ugh,” she groaned, stumbling slightly. ”That damn scroll is nauseating…”

She looked rough—clothes singed, a smear of what looked like black soot on her cheek, and her hair was a tangled mess.

Lu Gao frowned. ”What happened?”

Gu Jie waved him off. ”Undead. Lots of them.”

Ren Xun raised an eyebrow. ”Master left you to deal with them alone?”

She snorted. ”No, idiot. He should be back soon—he’s mopping them up now.” She sighed and rolled her shoulders. ”He figured it’d be faster if I just left first, so he tossed me a Scroll of Great Teleportation and told me to get lost.”

Without another word, she strolled past Ren Xun and Lu Gao, stopping by the goldfish.

She pulled out a few leaves of lettuce, tore them up, and dropped them into the water. ”Here, Jingyi. Be useful for once and purify the water or something.”

Ren Jingyi swam forward and nibbled on the lettuce, her expression as unreadable as ever.

Ren Xun scratched the back of his head. ”Should we move the Floating Dragon? If there are that many undead around, maybe we should get some distance.”

Gu Jie shook her head. ”Nah, we should be fine. Master will find us either way.”

Lu Gao exhaled and glanced at the sky. The sun was setting, casting the sky in streaks of red and gold. It would be night soon.

Ren Xun, being Ren Xun, was the first to break the silence.

”So, what’s training with the Master like?” he asked, his tone as casual as if he were asking about the weather.

Lu Gao tensed.

He had his own experiences with ”training” back in the Lu Clan. Harsh, grueling, and suffocating. Training wasn’t a method of learning—it was a method of proving whether you were worthy of being taught in the first place. If you couldn’t keep up, you were left behind. That was simply the way things were.

Gu Jie, however, didn’t seem particularly bothered by the question. She tilted her head, considering.

”My Legacy is different from Master’s,” she said finally. ”He can’t teach me skills I can use.”

Ren Xun blinked. ”Then what does he teach you?”

Gu Jie crossed her arms, rocking back on her heels. ”He teaches me what skills to prioritize. How to actualize my vision of myself in the future.”

Lu Gao frowned. ”What does that even mean?”

She shrugged. ”Something about creating a ‘full build.’”

Ren Xun narrowed his eyes. ”And that means…?”

Gu Jie rolled her eyes. ”Don’t ask me—I barely get half the things Master says when he’s in one of his moods.”

She then leaned against the railing, staring at the water. ”He gives me assignments. He calls them Quests. They should allow me to learn skills in the Repentant Path of the Warlock Legacy.”

Ren Xun’s mouth twitched. ”Quests? Like an adventurer?”

Gu Jie smirked. ”Apparently.”

Lu Gao absorbed that information slowly. Master Da Wei’s cultivation method was… bizarre. Not only did it use skills that didn’t seem tied to qi, but it also seemed structured in a way that none of the traditional cultivation methods he’d heard of worked.

And now there was a Repentant Path of a Warlock Legacy?

Lu Gao wasn’t sure what kind of path he wanted to walk yet, but one thing was certain—Master Da Wei’s way of doing things was something unlike anything the world of cultivation had ever seen.

The Floating Dragon rocked violently as something landed atop its deck with a resounding thud. Lu Gao’s hand shot out, gripping the railing to steady himself. His heart pounded as he turned his head.

From above, a figure stood, arms crossed, the moonlight casting an eerie glow over his features.

”Master?” Lu Gao called hesitantly.

The man looked at him, then sighed dramatically. ”No, it’s Dave, his Holy Spirit.”

Lu Gao blinked. ”...Dei-what?”

Gu Jie, crouched beside him, snorted. ”Just treat him like Master’s clone.” She tilted her head, squinting. ”What is it, Master Dai-vu? Dai-Fu?”

”It’s Dave...” Master’s clone corrected, looking exasperated. He lifted his arms, summoning a pair of massive tower shields as if they weighed nothing. ”No time for questions. Move the Floating Dragon and hide it behind the cliff.”

Ren Xun was already in motion before the words had fully left his mouth, scrambling for the controls. ”Lu Gao, Gu Jie, remove the hooks, the anchor, and everything!”

Lu Gao scrambled to the side of the ship, gripping the anchor’s thick chain and beginning to unwind it as fast as he could. Metal rattled against wood as the heavy weight dropped below. On the other side, Gu Jie leaped into the air, her movements precise as she unlatched the hooks securing their position.

Lu Gao stole a glance at the Master’s clone, still trying to wrap his head around the fact that this was a thing that could exist. ”What’s happening?”

Master’s clone raised his shields and began hurling spells everywhere. ”Brace yourselves! There’s been a powerful undead—”

Before he could finish, the sky darkened.

Lu Gao felt his breath hitch.

From the heavens, a golden light began to descend. No—not light. A sword.

A massive divine blade, glowing with radiant energy, fell from above, cutting through the clouds like divine judgment made manifest. It was like the heavens themselves had deemed something in this world unworthy of existing.

Lu Gao was momentarily paralyzed by the sheer divinity of it. He had never seen anything like this before.

Ren Xun gritted his teeth, pulling hard on the ship’s controls. The Floating Dragon lurched, tilting as it veered behind the mountainous cliff.

A split second later, dark miasma surged up to meet the golden sword. The two forces clashed—holy radiance against cursed darkness. The sky itself seemed to shake as a pillar of light erupted from the collision, so bright it turned night into day.

A wail—long, high-pitched, and ghostly—echoed across the landscape.

Lu Gao swallowed hard.

Whatever had just been struck down was something terrifying.