Immortal Paladin

I woke up feeling like I’d been tossed into a mountainside, rolled down a cliff, and then stomped on for good measure. No... actually, if that really happened, I probably wouldn’t feel as bad as I do right now.

This wasn’t just physical pain.

This was ”I fought back-to-back against a world boss-level monster, then had to deal with some PvP troll immediately after, only to be thrown into a solo raid of Hell’s Gate with no party members” kind of pain.

That kind of situation.

My entire body ached. Every muscle, every bone, every nerve... burning, sore, exhausted. I sucked in a slow breath. Not dead, then.

That’s a win.

I opened my eyes.

The first thing I noticed?

The bed was soft. Incredibly soft.

So much so that I wanted to just sink in and fall back asleep, aches and all. The sheets were cool, smooth, and had a faint fragrant scent, like some kind of exotic flower I couldn’t place.

I’m… wearing unfamiliar clothes.

That’s when I noticed the next thing.

Someone stirred beside me.

Sleeping.

Okay?

I froze.

She had dark hair and wore flowing white robes embroidered with silver lotuses. Her breathing was slow and peaceful. Her arms? Firmly wrapped around my waist.

Okay…

This was awkward on so many levels.

If I was any younger, both soul and mind, I’d probably be blushing like an idiot right now. But I had long since tempered myself against such trivial matters.

So I did the only reasonable thing.

I stayed on the bed.

You don’t turn away gifts.

A few moments passed before the woman stirred again, her eyelashes fluttering as she opened her eyes.

She blinked at me.

Then, with a calm, almost lazy voice, she murmured, ”Oh.”

I stared at her.

She yawned, and stretching slightly, though she didn’t let go, before saying, ”I dozed off.”

”Right,” I said slowly. ”And you are…?”

”Xin Yune,” she replied.

I nodded. ”And what exactly do you do?”

”A physician,” she said.

A pause.

I glanced down at her arms, still wrapped snugly around me.

I raised a brow. ”So, uh… why are you hugging me?”

”It was part of the healing,” she said smoothly.

A moment later, she added, ”And you smell good.”

I squinted.

”…Okay?”

That was a bit freaky. But hey, to each their own, I guess.

I decided to move on from that particular topic.

”Where’s my armor?” I asked.

”Being repaired,” she answered.

I frowned. That thing had been with me for a while now... It wasn’t exactly disposable.

”Where am I?”

”The Empire,” she said.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

”Where in the Empire?”

”The Imperial Capital.”

I sighed. ”Where in the Imperial Capital?”

She gave me a lazy smile. ”In the Emperor’s bedchambers.”

…

What.

I stared at her.

She smiled back, looking far too amused at my reaction.

I used Flash Step.

One moment, I was in bed.

The next, I was by the window.

A cool breeze drifted in, carrying the scent of incense, lotus blossoms, and the faint trace of steel... the mix of a city that was both spiritual and warlike.

We were high up.

Far below, the Imperial Capital of the Grand Ascension Empire stretched out endlessly beneath a golden morning sun.

I closed my eyes.

With my Paladin Legacy and Will Reinforcement cultivation combined, my Divine Sense had reached a new level.

Range. Accuracy. Refinement.

My five senses, once ordinary, had been honed to the point where I could paint the world in my mind’s eye, clearer than sight itself.

So, I closed my eyes completely and let my Divine Sense sweep across the capital.

And what did I see?

Wealth. Power. Status. Life.

The Imperial City was a place of contradictions: sacred yet violent, elegant yet ruthless, and ancient yet ever-evolving.

Towering jade pagodas gleamed under the sunlight, their golden inlays shimmering like stars against emerald stone. White-robed scholars and cultivators walked its broad avenues, their flowing sleeves brushing against the air, while armored imperial guards stood at every gate, their hands resting on the hilts of spirit-forged weapons.

The streets were filled with life.

Merchants called out their wares in booming voices. Silk vendors. Spice traders. Alchemists hawking miracle pills. An old man sat cross-legged on a wooden mat, painting with a brush dipped in liquid qi, his art infused with spiritual energy that made the ink dance like living creatures.

A group of disciples practiced sword forms in a grand courtyard, their footwork in perfect harmony, their movements like flowing water. Not far from them, priests or monks in golden robes lit fragrant incense before a shrine, their prayers rising in soft murmurs to the heavens.

And above it all, looming in the heart of the city was...

The Imperial Palace.

A colossus of jade and gold, its thousand-tiered spires reaching toward the sky like the fingers of a god. The banners of the Grand Ascension Empire flew from every tower, emblazoned with the sigil of the Heavenly Eye, watching over its people with an all-seeing gaze.

”Definitely a spell formation.”

It was a city that had stood for thousands of years, the crucible of the nascent Empire that had risen to ascension in recent centuries. At least, that was how it went according to Ren Xun’s history lectures.

The Grand Ascension Empire had only begun its true reign three hundred years ago. Before that, it had been a lesser nation, known by a different name, overshadowed by greater powers.

But now...

Now, it stood at the center of the world.

I let out a slow breath, soaking in the details, my Divine Sense drinking in the life and breath of the empire.

Then, a voice cut through my focus.

“His Majesty bids thee attend, that ye may partake in tea and discourse.”

I opened my eyes.

Xin Yune was watching me with a small and knowing smile on her lips.

I stared at her.

Tea?

With the Emperor?

…Right. Because that was a totally normal thing to happen.

Ah, right… The imperial summons.

I recalled the Emperor had invited me for tea.

But… I didn’t remember coming here.

The last thing I recalled was the Hell’s Gate, the endless waves of undead and demons, and then... being sucked into a green portal. I heard a voice. Someone had told me that I owed them tea.

And now, here I was.

I sighed.

I never imagined my first real adventure would be so thrilling that I’d lose almost my entire party, except for Ren Jingyi.

A ghost of a pain rose in my chest.

I hope that dragon guy did as he promised.

I pushed the thought aside and turned to Xin Yune.

“Lead the way,” I said.

She dipped her head in acknowledgment, moving with the grace of a drifting cloud.

I followed.

Might as well get this over with.

Then, I could start searching for the remains of my fallen party members and resurrect them.

And after that… I still needed to figure out a way to get in touch with Alice, Joan, and Lu Gao.

There was so much to do.

I searched inward, reaching for the presence that had always been there, Dave, my Holy Spirit.

Silence.

Nothing.

That was… worrying.

I exhaled slowly, forcing myself to stay calm. There were too many unknowns, and panicking wouldn’t solve anything. I needed to prioritize the conversation ahead.

As we walked through the Imperial Palace’s grand halls, I cast a sideways glance at Xin Yune and decided to make some idle conversation.

”Just so you know in advance, the honeypot strategy won’t work on me.”

She blinked at me, her expression as placid as still water. ”I don’t understand what you mean, but I would love to know about this… ’honeypot strategy.’”

…Right. 

Either my joke didn’t translate well, or Xin Yune was that much of a straitlaced person.

I missed my party already.

At least they humored my eccentricities instead of just staring at me like I was an unintelligible relic from an alternate reality.

We arrived at a terrace, bathed in the soft golden light of the late afternoon sun.

And there, seated at an exquisitely carved jade table, was a middle-aged man.

He was handsome, in the way that sculptors dreamed of capturing in stone, his features sharp, but not harsh, with the kind of ageless refinement that made it impossible to tell whether he was in his forties or hundreds. His long black hair was streaked with faint traces of silver, tied loosely behind him, as if he couldn’t be bothered with overly elaborate styles.

Draped over his shoulders was an ornate imperial robe of gold and black, the embroidered dragon patterns almost seeming to shift with every movement.

In his hand, he held a delicate porcelain cup, steam rising from its contents as he took a slow, unhurried sip.

He didn’t even look at me.

Xin Yune stepped forward and inclined her head, her tone measured and formal.

”His Majesty, the Grand Emperor, Wielder of the Heavenly Eye, doth bid thee welcome, Honorable Daoist and Esteemed Guest of the Empire.”

I clasped my fist and bowed slightly, offering the standard greeting.

Xin Yune then turned slightly, gesturing toward the man.

”This is His Majesty, Nongmin.”

At that, Nongmin finally looked at me.

I smiled at him.

”This humble one is named Da Wei, a wandering traveler of foreign lands, a friend to Yellow Dragon City, and a self-proclaimed minstrel who strums the strings of fate with but meager skill.”

Xin Yune gave me a slightly curious look, no doubt noticing that I was mimicking her change in speech pattern.

Meanwhile, Nongmin simply raised an eyebrow, setting his teacup down with deliberate grace.

”There is no need for such formalities,” he said, his voice smooth and assured. ”Thou mayest speak freely, without reservation.”

Ah, I see.

He wanted me to drop the act.

That was exactly why I wouldn’t.

I straightened, meeting his gaze with an expression of solemn reverence that was entirely fake.

”Thy benevolence knoweth no bounds, O Grand Emperor. Yet, how could this lowly one dare cast aside the sacred customs of propriety when standing before the august presence of he who weaveth the tapestry of fate with the eye that peereth into infinity?”

Fuck you, Emperor. Yes, fuck you.

Xin Yune blinked. Nongmin stared.

A tiny, almost imperceptible twitch formed at the corner of his mouth. Was that irritation?

Good.

I disliked this guy on principle, and if I had to be here, I might as well make sure he knew it.

“No need to play the sycophant,” said Nongmin. “Speak freely.”

I took a slow breath, letting my expression remain as unreadable as possible. Nongmin was watching me with that same calm, infuriating gaze, like he already knew what I was about to say. Maybe he did.

He used me.

I saw it now, clear as day. The pieces had fallen into place the moment I found myself here, in the very place he had invited me to, a hundred days after his summons. The timeframe wasn’t arbitrary. He had known. He knew I would cross paths with Shenyuan. Maybe not every detail, maybe not exactly how it would unfold, but he had accounted for me, pushed me toward an outcome that suited him.

And my party…

Their deaths.

Had he seen that too?

Did he expect it? Want it?

Not as malice, but as a convenient reality. A price I would pay so he could have leverage over me.

A quiet rage settled in my chest, a bitter ember that burned without roaring. He wasn’t my enemy, not yet. But this wasn’t right. Yeah, I needed to vent. I’d punch him later, when I cooled off a bit, because I reckoned killing the Emperor of a prosperous nation would be just asking for trouble. I internally sighed.

It sucked being so conflicted.

And what could I do about it?

Mock him. 

So, I offered him a poem.

I clasped my hands behind my back and let my voice flow like the wandering bards of old, slow and solemn:

”Upon the stage, a tale was spun,

The Shadow rose, the play begun.

A hand unseen did guide the thread,

We danced, we fought, the stage ran red.

The dice were cast, the script was writ,

A tragedy, yet most well-fit.

The heroes fell, their names unsung,

Yet lo, the curtain still was hung.

Was it fate, or was it art?

A grand design, so cold, so smart.

Oh playwright throned in halls of gold,

Didst thou not know the cost so bold?

Or was it known, yet unopposed,

A sacrifice that fate composed?

The stage is set, the ink runs dry,

And so we meet, just thou and I.”

Silence.

I held my stare as Nongmin looked at me with an emotionless stare.

Xin Yune shifted slightly, lips parted as if she wanted to say something, but no words came.

“I spoke freely,” I said. “Now it’s your turn. Also, fuck you.”

Let him chew on that.

Nongmin took a slow sip of his tea, as if weighing his words. ”My people have handled the remainder of Shenyuan’s contingency. The blood demons he planned to release have been neutralized.”

I frowned. Shenyuan did warn me about them. That smug bastard had muttered something about unfinished business before I sent him to whatever afterlife he deserved. Unknowingly, I released a sigh of relief.

Nongmin continued, setting his cup down. “We traced an isolated event to Ironmoor City. From there, it was simple enough to track and deal with the outbreaks in other cities before they could escalate. Whatever vile techniques they intended to spread have been contained.”

That was… surprisingly efficient. Annoyingly so. The way he said it, as if this had been no trouble at all, irritated me. Had I really been flailing around fighting for my life while his people cleaned things up like janitors sweeping away broken glass?

Still, the Hell’s Gate manifesting had been half of my responsibility. Nongmin hadn’t lifted a finger for that.

He met my gaze and inclined his head slightly. “For your efforts in holding the line and barring the Hell’s Gate, you have my gratitude.”

I almost snorted. It was surreal, hearing an emperor thank me. But then, his expression shifted slightly, and his next words came with a weight I didn’t quite trust.

”As for the deaths of your people,” he said, ”I apologize.”

I stiffened.

He continued, ”Among those you call your own was my grandson, Ren Xun. So, understand this... I, too, have lost.”

I stared at him, searching for any flicker of dishonesty. My Divine Sense stretched out, reading the minute shifts in his breath, the subtle tremors in his body. Nothing. If he was lying, he was damn good at it. Unbelievably good.

But Ren Xun was dead. That part wasn’t in question. What was in question was Nongmin’s sincerity.

Was he truly grieving, or was this just another layer to his manipulation? Was he trying to draw a false camaraderie between us, playing on emotions to align our interests?

I sighed. The Grand Emperor was far more complicated than I had imagined.

With a shake of my head, I sat down.

Xin Yune poured me tea.

I exhaled, letting my muscles relax. The bitterness from before still lingered, but it was time to move the conversation forward.

So, naturally, I asked, “Is it true you’ve stayed a virgin for a thousand years?”

Xin Yune froze.

Then, in the next instant, she shook.

She missed the cup.

And suddenly, I was drenched in tea.

For a long moment, there was silence.

Then, she started laughing.

A proper, elegant Imperial Physician laughing like a common tavern girl.

I wiped my face, blinking at her. Did I just break her?

Nongmin’s lips twitched. He set his teacup down with a quiet clink before finally responding.

“There is nothing to discuss about my virginity,” he said flatly. “And I am no longer a virgin.” He exhaled through his nose. “It has been... oh, a century or so already.”

I nodded solemnly, as if he had just revealed some grand truth of the universe. “Apologies for my curiosity,” I said. “But I’m glad to see that you are human too, who could be embarrassed.”

Xin Yune, who had only just stopped laughing, let out a small cough and quickly composed herself, though I could still see the ghost of a smile on her lips.

How?

The Emperor didn’t seem to care about her laughing at him... 

Never mind, I focused inward, calling upon my Item Box. With a thought, my damp robes vanished, and in their place, I donned Lofty Jade Proposition. It was made of flowing emerald-green silk, accented with gold thread—elegant, impressive, and most importantly, dry.

At the same time, I discreetly stuffed my soaked robes into my Item Box. No need to give the Emperor the satisfaction of seeing me drenched.

With that handled, I turned my attention back to him.

“So,” I said, leaning forward slightly. “What do you want from me?”

Nongmin met my gaze. “I want your power.”

I scoffed. “I have no desire to become someone else’s sword.” My voice was firm. “My sword is my own.”

Nongmin didn’t seem offended. Instead, he shook his head. “I do not wish to own you,” he said. “I wish to sponsor you.”

I frowned. That sounded like semantics to me.

He continued, “A World Summit will soon be held. News of the Outsiders must be spread.”

I blinked. “Outsiders?”

“To you, they are the Great Enemy.” Nongmin lifted his teacup again, this time sipping at a more leisurely pace. “I first heard the term from you.” He set the cup down. “Or rather, from Ren Jin. Your battle against a certain demon back in Yellow Dragon City, the report he gave me mentioned your use of that phrase.”

I clicked my tongue. So that’s how he knew.

“It was not difficult,” Nongmin continued, “to put two and two together.”

I sighed. “And you want me to come with you to this World Summit?”

“Yes,” he said. “There are people you need to meet.”

I leaned back in my chair, staring up at the sky. The tea had long since cooled, but I still felt its warmth lingering on my skin.

Honestly, Nongmin was asking a lot.

I had been swept up in events outside my control for too long. The more I fought, the more I traveled, the farther away my old world felt.

Going home… was that even possible anymore?

Was there even a point to any of this?

Why was I still moving forward?

Was it really just about getting stronger?

I closed my eyes for a moment. Then, exhaling slowly, I opened them again and looked at Nongmin.

“...What’s in it for me?”

Nongmin sipped his tea, his gaze steady on mine. ”In an act of good faith,” he said smoothly, ”I will tell you where to find the rest of your people… so that you may bring them back to life.”

Ah. So that’s how it was.

I had suspected it from the start, but hearing it confirmed only made it more obvious that he was using their deaths as leverage.

But… the fact that he gave this information freely, without demanding my loyalty in return, at least spoke to his character. It didn’t mean I trusted him, but it did mean he wasn’t as manipulative as I initially thought. Or rather, he didn’t feel the need to be.

I exhaled. ”And what’s your source of information?”

Nongmin smiled. ”Classified.”

Of course it was.

He continued, ”The carcasses of Gu Jie and Ren Xun remain with your youngest disciple, Ren Jingyi. Their remains are stored within her Storage Ring.”

Gu Jie and Ren Xun… still within reach.

Nongmin went on, ”Ren Jingyi herself is doing well. She currently resides in the Riverfall Continent and is traveling with a cultivator named Tao Long. Meanwhile, Lu Gao...”

I straightened. ”Tao Long?” Was that the dragon guy’s name?

”...is in a desert.” Nongmin took another sip of tea. ”With strange people.”

I frowned. A desert? That didn’t tell me much, but it was something.

Nongmin set his cup down. ”I can help you track them down and bring them here,” he offered. ”Though retrieving Lu Gao may be… difficult.”

It was odd how he spoke about my people so casually, as if he knew them personally.

I leaned on my seat, keeping my expression neutral. ”I know the ‘strange’ people with Lu Gao. They’re friends.”

Nongmin merely nodded, acknowledging my words.

I hesitated for a beat before finally asking, ”What about Hei Mao?”

Nongmin shook his head.

That was all.

No explanation. No further words. Just a single shake of his head.

I felt my heart break.

Hei Mao… gone.

I swallowed, forcing my emotions back down. I wasn’t going to let Nongmin see my pain.

At the very least, I had some solace in knowing where the others were.

Nongmin set his cup down and regarded me with an unreadable expression. ”I have already arranged for Ren Jin to secure Ren Jingyi. A guard has been posted with her at all times.”

I kept my face neutral, but I wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

”My son will handle the matter of her safety delicately,” Nongmin added. ”You need not worry... she will be kept safe.”

Safe.

I downed the last of my cold tea, then stood. ”I’ll think about your offer. We’ll talk later.”

Nongmin simply nodded, as if he had already foreseen my response.

I turned away, resisting the urge to sigh. I thought about using Voice Chat, maybe reaching out to Lu Gao, maybe Alice, or Joan, but I decided against it.

Not yet.

Instead, I activated Egress.

I thought about Yellow Dragon City.

A moment later, I stood before the city walls.

The massive walls of Yellow Dragon City loomed before me, a familiar sight, yet distant in a way I couldn’t quite explain. I had been away for too long.

Without hesitation, I activated Zealot’s Stride.

Mana surged through my body. My feet barely touched the air as I shot forward, streaking across the sky like a comet toward the Yellow Dragon Estate.

The guards stationed outside barely had time to react.

”Halt—!”

Too slow.

I blurred past them, their protests lost in the wind.

I zoomed into Ren Jin’s office.

And then...

I stopped.

Stared.

Ren Jin and his wife, Yue Ruo. were making out.

Not just kissing, but full-tangling limbs, hands-wandering, passionately-locked-in-each-other’s-arms kind of making out.

I blinked.

I sighed.

They still didn’t notice me.

I faked a cough.

They froze.

Ren Jin slowly turned his head, his wife still half-clinging to him, both of them looking like guilty teenagers caught by their parents.

I didn’t even care anymore.

I closed my eyes and extended my Divine Sense.

I searched, looking for that spark.

That tiny, unique little presence that reminded me of her when she used to be just a goldfish.

There.

I moved.

I jumped from the open veranda, landing lightly in the courtyard below.

Ren Jingyi was training with a whip.

Across from her, Jiang Zhen stood with arms crossed, his expression calm and patient. Tao Long was off to the side, watching with a contemplative look.

I activated Flash Step and appeared within Ren Jingyi’s peripheral vision.

Her whip slipped from her fingers.

Her eyes widened.

She let out a small, choked sound...

Then ran.

Straight for me.

I barely had time to brace myself before the little girl threw herself into my arms.

Ren Jingyi clung to me, her small fingers digging into my robes as if afraid I’d disappear again. ”I... I thought I’d never see you again!”

Her fingers tightened around my robes as she trembled. ”I was so alone… I didn’t know what to do…”

Her voice cracked. ”I was so scared… so sad…”

I let out a slow breath, rubbing her back gently. ”It’s okay. Everything’s going to be fine.”

She choked back another sob but nodded. ”Promise?”

”I promise,” I hugged her tighter, murmuring softly, ”It’s okay. Everything’s going to be fine.”

Ren Jingyi sobbed into my shoulder, but she nodded.

She hugged me tighter.

And I hugged her back.