Immortal Paladin

Hei Yuan’s voice rang with desperation, his cry cutting through the chaos of battle.

“What’s the meaning of this?! Shadow Patriarch Hei Ben...”

The man in Dave’s grasp let out a deep, mirthful chuckle, tilting his head as if amused by the accusation.

“Ah… yes, I was called that once, wasn’t I?” His voice dripped with nostalgia, but there was no warmth in it, only amusement at Hei Yuan’s disbelief. “But names are shackles, and that one is no longer fitting for me. Please call me by my divine name.” His grin widened as he leaned in slightly. “You may call me… Shenyuan.”

Hei Yuan trembled, his face pale. His breathing hitched, his composure shattering as tears welled in his eyes. “Why…? Why did you do it?” His voice cracked, raw with emotion. “Why corrupt Hei Mu? Why take away Patriarch Hei Ten and turn him into… into that?!”

Shenyuan sighed, almost bored. “You’re so noisy, little Yuan. Let’s do something about that.”

Hei Yuan’s body convulsed violently as black miasma erupted from his seven orifices: his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth spilling forth the foul essence of corruption. His screams turned to gasps as his body stiffened, then fell like a broken marionette, plummeting into the lake below.

Splash!

One of the Shadow Clan cultivators darted down, catching Hei Yuan before he could sink, retreating to the rear lines. But the sight of their leader falling shook the defenders, and the undead pressed forward with renewed aggression.

Dave’s grip on Shenyuan’s throat tightened, his voice steady despite the fire of holy energy coursing through him. “What did you do?”

Shenyuan merely smiled, unbothered by Dave’s strength. “What I had to. What I was meant to. You see, boy, I am the Abyss Clan. I am the Black Clan. I am the Shadow Clan and the One True Death.” His eyes gleamed with a mad certainty. “I am the rightful heir of the Eternal Undeath Cult, and I will stop at nothing to reclaim my place in the Infinity.”

Dave’s expression remained unreadable, but his grip did not loosen. He could feel the aura of something ancient, something deeply wrong emanating from this man.

This wasn’t just a battle over the island anymore.

It was a battle for the fate of the Shadow Clan itself and the rest of the Deepmoor Continent.

Shenyuan’s smirk didn’t waver, even as Dave ignited Searing Smite in his palm. Holy flames wreathed his gauntlet, the heat searing the air itself. Without hesitation, he clenched his fist, attempting to burn his foe with righteous fire.

But Shenyuan merely laughed. His body blurred, dissolving into shadow before slipping past Dave’s grasp like mist through his fingers.

“Thunderous Smite.”

Dave swung Silver Steel, still empowered by Heavenly Punishment, cutting through the space where Shenyuan reformed. A jagged arc of lightning and divine force surged forth, crackling with the authority of judgment itself. It cleaved through the battlefield, illuminating the night in blinding brilliance.

The strike landed. Or rather, it should have.

But once again, Shenyuan merely slipped, his form scattering like a phantom, untouched.

He shook his head in mock disappointment. “Useless. You can’t harm me.” His grin widened, arrogance dripping from every word. “I am invincible. There’s no way for you to bypass my intangibility. You cannot strike what does not exist.”

Dave exhaled slowly.

Then, he pointed Silver Steel directly at Shenyuan.

“It’s over.”

For the first time, Shenyuan’s smirk faltered.

The night trembled. The heavens themselves seemed to listen.

“Final Adjudication.”

Dave had been buying time, just enough time to channel his most powerful area-of-effect spell.

Yes, he had exhausted his every spell slot.

But he wasn’t done yet.

His armor’s ability, Ephemeral Touch, allowed him to cast Ultimate Skills regardless of cooldown, mana consumption, or spell slots. However, it didn’t shorten Final Adjudication’s channeling time. That was why he needed every second he could steal.

And now...

A divine verdict was being rendered.

A golden fissure split the heavens, stretching across the battlefield. The very air groaned as reality cracked, bleeding radiant power. Darkness recoiled. The sky turned void-black, swallowing the stars, leaving only judgment.

Then the hymns began.

Voices beyond mortal comprehension sang in celestial harmony, their words not of any known language, yet understood by all.

Rings of celestial scripture spiraled around Dave, inscribed with ever-shifting verdicts, glowing with the absolute authority of divine law. The ground trembled beneath his feet.

The guilty would not escape.

Golden chains of light erupted forth, lashing across the battlefield, seeking those who had sinned against the natural order. The undead—their wretched souls bound to this plane—had no means of resisting. Hundreds. Thousands. They burned in an instant, reduced to nothing but ash.

The black-masked cultivators mixed among the undead fared no better. Those who had defied fate, who had walked the path of forbidden arts, found themselves snared. The chains constricted, dragging them toward judgment.

And Shenyuan...

He, too, was caught.

The space around him twisted, warping as divine light consumed him. His smugness was gone, replaced by something else.

Recognition.

Above them, a colossal Scales of Judgment materialized. It hung in the heavens, its size unfathomable, stretching beyond mortal sight. Its weight bore down on the battlefield, an absolute force of karma manifest.

It was time to weigh the guilty.

A laugh.

Loud. Overwhelming. It echoed across the battlefield, sweeping over the lake, the island, and beyond. A laughter so deep and resonant it sent ripples through the very air.

Shenyuan laughed.

His mirth was not mocking, nor was it derisive. It was genuine amusement, rich with delight. “This power… this righteousness… it sickens me!” His voice rang out, filled with something close to exhilaration. ”Frankly, I’d probably die receiving a direct hit from this or that heavenly sword... but...”

Dave narrowed his eyes. Final Adjudication was absolute. There was no escape. No way to defy judgment.

Then he blinked.

The golden chains, once wrapped around Shenyuan, constricting him in divine law, were no longer there.

They were wrapped around him.

Dave’s breath hitched. His gaze snapped downward, his Silver Steel trembling in his grip. The radiant shackles coiled around his arms and his legs, binding him in celestial scripture, as if he were the condemned.

The hymns continued, unrelenting. The battlefield burned.

Undead wreathed in golden karmic fire howled in agony as they crumbled into ash. Black-masked cultivators writhed, their very souls ignited from within, consumed by the weight of their sins.

Dave looked up at the sky. The Scales of Judgment loomed, its colossal form beyond human comprehension.

He had good karma. That much he knew.

His actions and his path... it was righteous. Wasn’t it?

Then, the scale tilted.

An agonizing burst erupted from within him.

Golden karmic flames ignited in his essence.

Dave gritted his teeth as pain racked his soul. Why? This wasn’t supposed to happen. This judgment wasn’t meant for him. He wasn’t guilty!

The fire burned deeper. It didn’t just scorch his body... it sought his very being.

With rigid control, Dave began casting Cure in even intervals, his mind sharp despite the agony. Divine Word: Life surged through him, reinforcing his own healing, fighting against his own spell.

Shenyuan tilted his head, watching.

Then, he smiled.

“Let me enlighten you.”

His voice was calm, almost gentle, as though explaining something trivial. “What’s happening? Easy. I just made it so that we swapped our shadows.”

Dave’s eyes widened.

Swapped… shadows?

A realization struck him like a blade to the gut. Final Adjudication targeted the guilty. The spell sought karmic weight, and Shenyuan had, somehow, shifted that weight onto him.

He had turned Dave into the condemned.

Shenyuan chuckled. “Impressive spell, though. What did you call it? Ah, yes... Final Adjudication?” He spread his arms wide. “I must say, the chains, it suits you rather well.”

The flames raged.

They did not consume his flesh... they devoured his very soul.

Dave roared in agony, his voice raw as the divine fire burrowed deeper, searing into his essence. Final Adjudication demanded judgment, and now it was branding him as guilty.

And then he saw.

The visions struck like a blade to his mind, each one sharper than the last.

Bloodied halls.

Shattered families, their corpses strewn across the floor.

Siblings turning against one another, only for all to be slain.

A mother, clutching her child, eyes frozen in horror as her heart was ripped from her chest.

Fathers crushed beneath falling rubble, their screams lost in the chaos.

Entire sects, once mighty, now turned to ruins.

Nations burned, their skies darkened with the smoke of countless pyres.

Dave staggered, his breath choking in his throat. These weren’t his sins, but Shenyuan’s.

Yet the weight of them was unbearable.

The sheer vileness of it—the absolute, unrepentant malice—sank into his very bones. It was not just the sight of atrocities, but the emotions behind them. The sheer, unfiltered joy that Shenyuan had felt in the slaughter.

A mind so wretched, so utterly devoid of remorse, that Dave wanted—no, needed—to end it all.

Make it stop.

And then, a voice.

A melody.

Soft.

Slow.

Shenyuan began to sing.

A lullaby. A eulogy.

“Hush, hush, lay down your sword,

The weight you bear is much too hard.

Close your eyes, surrender your breath,

Embrace the peace that lies in death.”

“They whisper low, they cry and weep,

But all shall rest in shadows deep.

No more pain, no more fight,

Slip away into the night.”

The words were poison.

A creeping, insidious whisper in his mind.

Dave’s grip on Silver Steel trembled. His limbs felt so heavy. His heartbeat slowed, lulled by the haunting tune. His mind clouded. The fire still burned, but it felt so distant now.

Just… rest.

No!

With a snarl, Dave gritted his teeth and forced himself forward. He powered through the pain, through the weight, through the suffocating sins that weren’t his own.

He swung.

Silver Steel lashed out in a gleaming arc, Heavenly Punishment crackling along its edge as it cleaved through the air toward Shenyuan.

And Shenyuan didn’t move.

He just stood there, smiling.

Dave’s blade struck true and passed straight through.

Like mist.

Like nothing.

Dave’s breath hitched. He swung again and again.

Each strike and every slash slipped through Shenyuan’s body like cutting through air.

The man remained standing, untouched and utterly unbothered.

Dave’s arms shook. His attacks were landing, and he could see them hitting, but there was no impact. No resistance.

Shenyuan tilted his head, lips curling into a smirk. “Oh dear. You do seem tired.”

His voice was mocking.

”Give up already, foreigner. No one is gonna save you.”

The Shadow Clan was losing.

The white fog that once protected the island had been swallowed by dark miasma.

Screams resounded from the island as undead poured in, tearing through defenses like brittle paper. Shadow Clan cultivators fought desperately, but for every undead they slew, two more clawed their way into existence.

The scent of blood and decay thickened the air.

Shenyuan, perched high above, let out a disappointed sigh. ”What a pity.”

His malicious pitch-black eyes glowed with eerie amusement as he looked over the carnage. ”I could have taken the island without so much loss, you know. But you...” he motioned toward Dave, ”...just had to ruin it for me.”

The flames stopped.

Final Adjudication, his most powerful divine judgment, ceased.

Dave’s body convulsed as the last embers of divine energy flickered out. His vision blurred. The weight of exhaustion crashed into him all at once.

And then he fell.

Cold air rushed past his skin as his body plunged from the sky. The next thing he knew... water.

A thunderous splash.

The freezing lake swallowed him whole, its depths dark and endless.

Then hands.

Clawed, rotting hands.

Undead lurked beneath the surface, their eyes glowing dimly in the abyss. They reached for him, their nails scraping against his flesh.

He couldn’t move.

He couldn’t fight.

Dave was losing.

No.

He was dying.

His Lordship’s body would perish. And it would be his fault.

He had fought.

He had tried.

But he had lost.

He wanted to believe he had no regrets. That he had done everything he could.

But that would be a lie.

He prayed, not for himself, but for the others. He prayed that Gu Jie, Ren Jingyi, Ren Xun, Hei Mao...

That they had escaped.

Then a hand.

Strong. Unyielding.

It grabbed him, dragging him upward.

The world lurched as he was pulled from the depths, coughing up lake water as he collapsed onto wet sand.

The battle was still raging.

Shadow Clan cultivators were fleeing in panic.

Undead hunted them down.

Figures in dark robes, black-masked cultivators, moved among the battlefield, herding survivors like cattle.

Dave lay on the shore, gasping. He reached for his sword, for the familiar pulse of Heavenly Punishment.

But the moment his fingers brushed Silver Steel, he felt nothing.

The divine power had vanished.

And then, shadows loomed over him.

Black-masked cultivators encircled him, their presence cold and methodical. They did not attack. Instead, they moved in perfect unison, forming two parallel lines as he was forced onto his knees.

And before him was a throne of bone.

It sat freshly constructed, its frame built from the skeletons of fallen Shadow Clan cultivators. The marrow still glistened red, their lingering resentment saturating the air.

Shenyuan sat atop it, resting his chin on his palm. ”Hmm.”

He tapped his fingers against the armrest, the bones creaking beneath his touch.

”This isn’t bad.” His lips curled into a smirk. ”But I should refine it further. Yes... The resentment in these bones is powerful. This could make quite the treasure.”

He chuckled. ”Wouldn’t you agree, foreigner?”

Snap.

With a surge of strength, Dave broke free.

The black-masked cultivators flinched as he surged forward, Silver Steel in hand, divine energy flickering around his blade. The bone throne shattered beneath his charge as he swung his sword at Shenyuan’s neck.

”Shadow Bind.”

A whisper.

The world froze.

Dave’s body locked in place, his limbs unresponsive. It was as if unseen shackles had seized him mid-strike, anchoring him to the very ground he stood on.

Shenyuan sighed. ”Tsk. That was predictable.” With a wave of his hand, the throne he was sitting on mended itself.

Dave struggled, his muscles straining. His breath came in ragged bursts, but he couldn’t move. Not even an inch.

Shenyuan rose from his throne of bones, brushing nonexistent dust from his robes.

”That armor of yours... it’s wasted on you.”

He lazily waved a hand. ”Take it off him.”

The black-masked cultivators advanced. Hands reached for Dave’s armor. They were grasping, pulling, and prying.

Nothing happened.

They grunted and applied more force... still, nothing.

Shenyuan’s brow furrowed. He tilted his head. ”Oh?”

The masked lackeys tried again, now with growing frustration. Fingers clawed at the clasps, attempting to remove the plates piece by piece. Yet no matter what they did, the armor remained.

It wasn’t their lack of effort.

It simply refused to be taken.

Shenyuan clicked his tongue. ”How stubborn. A shame, really. That treasure would be better in my hands.”

He sighed, stretching his fingers. ”You’re leaving me with no choice, Dave.”

Then he gestured.

A familiar silhouette approached.

Dave’s breath hitched. His eyes widened in disbelief.

It wasn’t an undead.

It was his Puppet Armor.

The very gift His Lordship had bestowed upon him.

It moved with unnatural grace, its once-gleaming frame now tainted with dark miasma. The way it walked was wrong. Like a marionette, strings unseen.

A sack hung from its grasp.

Dave’s instincts screamed.

The Puppet Armor lifted it high and then dropped it.

The sack landed with a sickening thud.

The Puppet Armor, his own armor, knelt down, fingers—his fingers—untying the sack with mechanical precision.

The contents spilled onto the ground.

Two heads.

Lifeless. Pale. Cold.

Gu Jie.

Ren Xun.

Dave stopped breathing.

His knees buckled. His vision blurred.

No.

No, no, no.

His mind refused to comprehend what he was seeing. His stomach twisted into knots, imaginary bile rising up his throat. His fingers shook. A choked sound escaped him. A strangled breath, somewhere between a gasp and a sob.

His heart shattered.

”Huh.”

A weak sound.

”Hah.”

His chest ached.

”HAAAAH—!”

Tears streamed down his face.

Like a child.

Like a helpless, broken child.

Under his helm, his expression twisted in agony. He knew how pathetic he must have looked.

But he couldn’t stop.

He didn’t understand why he was crying like this.

In his life before this, he had lost people. Friends. Loved ones.

He had suffered.

But never like this.

Never with this unbearable weight.

His body trembled, wracked with sobs.

He howled. He screamed.

A wreck.

A failure.

He had failed.

Not just His Lord.

But everyone who trusted in him.

Shenyuan leaned back, tapping his fingers against the armrest of his crude throne of bones, watching Dave with something resembling amusement.

“What a pity,” he mused, exhaling like a man disappointed by a bad gamble. “I truly thought I’d get my hands on the kid. But I have to give credit where it is due... the traps set on the puppet have been... interesting... It made me lose a few shadows, really.”

Dave’s lips parted. His voice came out hoarse, raw from grief. “This is an illusion.”

Even as he said it, he reached out with Divine Sense, grasping for some deception, a flaw, a detail out of place.

Nothing.

Cold, harsh reality pushed back against his senses.

This wasn’t an illusion.

This was real.

Shenyuan tilted his head with a grin playing on his lips. “You know you’re lying. I wonder... are you buying time? Or are you truly that deep in despair? Oh, I enjoy despair... Well, as long as I am not on the receiving end. Hmmm... Is that it? Are you in despair just yet?”

Dave clenched his fists. “You don’t know despair.”

”The fact I am asking does indicate I might not know it the intimate way you do now,” Shenyuan chuckled. “But... Oh? You think I don’t? You’re amusing, foreigner. Really, you are.” He leaned forward, golden eyes glinting. “Here’s the deal... I’ll give you a choice. Surrender your treasure, and I’ll let the kid go. I won’t chase him. And, as a bonus,” he smirked, “I won’t go after the fish either.”

Dave’s breath hitched.

Hei Mao.

Ren Jingyi.

They were alive.

A small ember of relief flickered in his chest, but it was crushed beneath rage.

Shenyuan wasn’t done. His smile turned almost conversational. “During the time I swapped our shadows, I saw into your life, Dave.” He tapped his temple, mockingly. “War. Slaughter. Faith. Your world... it’s nothing like I’ve ever seen before.”

Dave said nothing.

Shenyuan sighed, then leaned back, spreading his arms wide. “As a consolation prize for your inevitable death, I’ll let you in on a little secret.”

His golden eyes darkened.

“This world? It’s a prison.”

Dave blinked. “...What?”

“The real world,” Shenyuan continued, “is out there. Beyond the Infinity.”

His voice turned almost reverent, but madness lurked beneath his words. “Greater lifeforms exist in the Greater Universe. Beings of power beyond comprehension. But those gatekeeping bastards—” his fingers curled into fists “—they kept interfering. Blocking my ascension. They don’t want me to leave this rotten prison.”

His laughter was laced with frustration. “Immortality? It can screw itself. I don’t want to live forever. Forever is overrated,” He grinned. “I want to be a God.”

His gaze snapped back to Dave. “Your armor, your treasure, will help me achieve that. Give it up, and I’ll grant you an honorable death. I’ll bury you properly, let you rest in peace. You won’t have to suffer the indignity of becoming one of my undead.”

Silence.

Dave stared.

Then, he laughed.

A low, breathless chuckle at first, and then it grew.

Louder. Sharper. A pure, mocking cackle.

The black-masked cultivators shifted uncomfortably.

Shenyuan frowned. “Something funny?”

Dave’s laughter didn’t stop. It rang through the battlefield, raw and unfiltered.

Then, he spoke.

”Godhood?

“You know nothing about Godhood!

“You never loved. Never was loved. Never cared.

“Did you truly believe people would worship you? Revere you?

“Why?

“Because you have power?

“You are a joke. And the punchline has always been your ignorance.

“Foolish, foolish man!

“People will bow out of fear.

“They will sing lies out of selfishness.

“They will beg for survival.

“But you will never have their souls.

“Their love.

“Their true worship.

“A God?

“Dream on.

“Because you’d never be a God.

“Wake up to reality!”

The battlefield was silent.

And for the first time…

Shenyuan didn’t laugh.