Immortal Paladin

The falcon screeched as it broke through the clouds, its shadow passing over us like a silent omen. I watched it descend with practiced grace, folding its wings mid-dive before flaring them open again at the last second. Its rider leapt off, landing in the boat with barely a sound.

Han Lun.

The man stood tall, draped in desert-colored leathers and a polished scale coat that shimmered faintly under the sun. His skin was bronze from the heat, and a curved sabre hung from his waist. His face was calm, but his eyes were sharp and alert. “I apologize for the behavior of the guide we assigned you earlier,” he said, brushing a bit of wind-swept grit from his shoulder. “From now on, I’ll be taking over personally.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t expect the Captain of the border guards to come himself.”

He smiled faintly. “Captain of the Southern Military Outpost, actually. I was just recently promoted as a Falconeer and was just allowed to ride my Falcon into battle… It’s a great honor.”

Falconeer?

Ah. That explained the falcon.

I nodded toward the skies. The falcon was gone, hidden somewhere behind the thin veil of clouds, but I could still sense it: its heartbeat, its breath, amd the tensing of muscle as it circled above. My Divine Sense painted its shape clearly in my mind.

“Your falcon’s impressive,” I said. “Not just the beast. The saddlework and the gear. Compact and aerodynamic. The Soaring Dragons and Formation Gourds of the Empire are marvels in their own right, but I doubt they handle like that.”

It was fun seeing new things, so I had to compliment. Of course, it wasn’t so new, the idea didn’t occur to me, but seeing something novel was worth a praise or two, right?

Han Lun looked up as well. “They don’t. The Falconeers of the Promised Dunes are the best in the Great Desert. Generations of tradition. We raise their falcons from eggs, bond with them, train together for years before they even set foot in the skies.”

I reckoned that while the falcons were more maneuverable, the Empire’s flying boats would still be faster with their warp function.

“Sounds intense,” I said. “Bet they don’t crash as often either.”

That drew a chuckle from him, brief and sharp.

I shifted slightly, scanning the distant dunes. “Have you ever heard of a place called Sandthorn Village?”

“Of course.” His tone was immediate. “They’re known for their roses.”

“Roses?” That one caught me off guard.

He nodded. “Desert roses. Deep red, resilient to heat, blooms even in sand. Beautiful and stubborn, like most people from the Dunes.”

I wasn’t surprised he knew the place. The Promised Dunes weren’t like the rest of the world. Most countries leaned on powerful sects, warring clans, or imperial bloodlines. The Dunes were different. Tight-knit. Local. The kind of place where a village name still meant something.

I’d only learned that recently, digging through the books Jin Wen smuggled back for me. The methods of acquisition of knowledge in this world were so strict that it was annoying. To think that even books like this needed to be smuggled. Still, I found Promised Dunes to be quite an impressive country. No sects. No cultivation academies. Just villages, towns, and a handful of sun-bleached cities clinging to oases. Somehow, it made the place feel older… less like a kingdom and more like a memory refusing to die.

“Then you’ll be our guide,” I said. “We’re heading to Sandthorn Village, and we’ll be relying on your expertise.”

He gave me a short bow. “Understood. I’ll notify Captain Xue and coordinate our movements. I’ve brought a dozen Falconeers with me. I hope you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind at all,” I said, then hesitated. “Hmmm… I hope you’ll have the discretion not to pry too much into my business. I understand the Promised Dunes have a bit of an isolationist policy, and they don’t look kindly on foreigners who manage to enter their borders without permission.”

“What does that mean, Sir Da Wei?”

“Let’s just say it’s to your Queen’s best interest if you play ball with us.”

We landed our Soaring Dragon boats a few hours later, their cloud-streaked trails vanishing behind us as the enchantments fizzled out with a gentle hiss. The falcons circled above, casting looping shadows across the dunes. Han Lun pointed us toward a small rise of sandstone ridges,” a natural windbreak he claimed shielded Sandthorn Village from the worst of the desert gales.

But when we crested the final ridge, there was no village.

Just a crater, wide and deep. It was blackened around the edges like something had burned it into the earth. It was too symmetrical to be natural, and too silent to be anything but wrong.

Han Lun dismounted without a word, his boots crunching against the glassy grit as he approached the edge. He stared down into the hole, lips pressed thin. I followed a step behind as I leapt from the Soaring Dragon, the wind tugging at my sleeves as it whistled through the emptiness below.

“This…” His voice was rougher now, touched with disbelief. “This isn’t possible.”

I crouched and ran a hand through the scorched sand. Still warm. Whatever did this hadn’t happened long ago. “You sure this is the place?”

“I’m sure,” he said tightly. “This ridge, that cactus grove on the left, the fault lines in the stone… they all match. Sandthorn Village was right here.”

I stood. “Then where is it now?”

He didn’t answer.

A few of the Falconeers landed a few seconds later, their falcon making a low, uneasy trill as it flared its wings. I stayed on the boat, gazing at the crater from my perch.

“Place got swallowed,” Lu Gao muttered, one hand on his brows as if covering his eyes. “No signs of a fight. Just... gone.”

I opened my Divine Sense again. My radius expanded, threading through the dunes, reaching for buried qi signatures, bloodstains, bones, artifacts, and anything. But all I felt was static... Interference? I couldn’t tell, really. Something had wiped this place clean.

Han Lun dropped to one knee and touched the blackened soil with the back of his hand. “We used to trade with them, back before I became a soldier. My second cousin married a girl from here. I... I should’ve been here sooner.”

I watched him closely. “This wasn’t an accident.”

“No.” He clenched his jaw. “No, it wasn’t.”

I ran closer to the center of the crater.

The warm wind hit my face as the scorched sand beneath me brushed my boots. Sand rushed up to meet me as if trying to swallow me, but I steadied my gait, boots sinking an inch into the dune before I stood straight, brushing off dust that clung to my robes.

I stared at the three boats that landed on the sand... We had entered deeper the Promised Dunes with two Soaring Dragons and one Formation Gourd. The rest stayed at the borders. The Promised Dunes, its Queen, and Han Lun had been cautious of our presence, and I couldn’t blame them. To their credit, they had reason to be.

Honestly, I was feeling impatient. We had landed far slower than I preferred. Why? Because we had to wait.

Falconeers. The riders of the desert. Fast in the air, sure… but they rode birds, not boats. And their birds were tired. So the fleet had slowed for them. The honor guard of the Promised Dunes, revered across the region for their martial prowess and stubbornness. Yeah, they should be strong, but the Empire was just way too ahead of its time in there technology.

I was about to turn toward Han Lun when I felt it.

A tremor. Faint. Subtle. But it wasn’t the wind. The sand beneath my boots shifted, just slightly, like a breath drawn beneath the dunes. My eyes narrowed. My Divine Sense flared out like a net. And there it was.

The epicenter.

Right beneath the Formation Gourd.

I raised my voice and amplified it with a Lion’s Roar and Voice Chat. “Everyone off the Formation Gourd! Now!”

They obeyed immediately, leaping from the craft with haste. The Imperial Phoenix Guards were trained not to hesitate, and thank the heavens for that. Because the next second, the sand exploded.

A monstrous column of earth and grit erupted upward as something massive and bone-white burst from below. The Formation Gourd tilted, shrieked as its core overloaded, and then… crunch.

Gone.

Swallowed whole.

The creature that surfaced was as long as a city wall and twice as hideous. Segmented flesh wrapped in runed carapace. Eyes nonexistent. A circular mouth lined with layered teeth. It screeched with a horrible, reverberating wail that made the dunes shiver.

“What’s that?!” Lu Gao was practically shouting, conjuring his sword of purple flames with wide eyes.

“My thoughts exactly, buddy,” I muttered. 

“It’s a Wyrmed Worm!” one of the Falconeers shouted.

“Oh great,” I said. “A dragon worm.”

“A sand beast,” Jin Wen added, suddenly beside me like he teleported. His voice was disturbingly calm,d espite the danger. I’d like to imagine it was his trust on my strength but there was a subtle hint of excitement in his voice.. “Said to carry a corrupted dragon bloodline. Not smart. But very big.”

“Big is all it needs to be,” grumbled Bai Zheme. He stepped forward, flicked open his war fan with a clack, and brought it down with a sharp arc. ”Let me deal with it, Lord Wei!”

A shimmering crescent of force split from the fan and crashed into the worm’s flank. The creature roared, part of its side sloughing off in chunks of burnt armor and gushing black ichor.

Han Lun followed immediately. Seventh Realm cultivators like them didn’t have it in them to hesitate and be sloppy. “Zhi!” he called, and his falcon dove. As he moved, his saber flashed an elegant, polished arc of steel. He and his beast dove into the breach Zheme had made, cleaving through the worm’s already ruptured flesh and tearing a massive line down its side.

The worm screeched again, half in pain and half in rage. Its entire form surged and twisted, utterly destroying what remained of the Formation Gourd. Wood, steel, and Formation glass sprayed into the air. Most of the passengers had gotten off in time, thankfully. A few lay scattered but alive in the sand.

And then… fire.

From above, Xue Xin descended. Wings of pure flame spread wide from her back, igniting the sky in streaks of gold and red. She didn’t land so much as fall like judgment incarnate. Her eyes locked onto the opposite side of the worm, and she roared, the heat surrounding her shimmering in waves.

She punched both hands forward, and two massive gouts of phoenix fire surged from her palms.

The worm tried to rear, but it was already half-dead. The flames tore through its flank like molten spears, boiling flesh and bone.

It let out one last thrashing screech. The dunes shook. Winds whipped wildly.

Then… silence.

The Wyrmed Worm collapsed, a mountain of ruined muscle and black blood. Its death birthed a minor sandstorm, the creature’s body slowly charring as the heat from Xue Xin’s flames collided with the frigid interior of its flesh.

The air was thick with the scent of burnt meat and crushed stone.

I stood there, robes flapping in the hot wind. The Soaring Dragons had lifted, barely avoiding the worst of the beast’s rampage. Only two remained overhead. The rest of the Falconeers had already veered out of range. I turned toward the nearest group: Falconeers, my own people, and the survivors who’d jumped when I had.

They’d followed me the moment I left my perch. Loyal. And probably protective of me, thakns to the influence of the Emperor... I raised my hand and cast Shield of Faith: once, twice, five times over, until the translucent magic shimmered across our group in pale gold.

“Stay close,” I said. “It can’t hurt to be more cautious.”

“Well,” Hei Yuan muttered, brushing dust from his sleeves, “it would’ve been nice if I got a chance to show off.”

I shot him a sidelong glance. My boots dug deep into scorched sand, the corpse of the Wyrmed Worm cooling nearby.

Jin Wen stood nearby, eyes squinting at the remains. “That thing… it was a Sixth Realm Beast.”

He sounded unsure whether to be impressed or concerned.

“And Captain Xue, General Bai, and Captain Han…” he tilted his head toward the three Seventh Realm heavyweights who had just obliterated the thing together, “…couldn’t take it down in one blow.”

Lu Gao chuckled, flicking his blade clean. “No offense, senior,” he said, glancing at Hei Yuan, “but the Sixth Realm doesn’t seem like a big deal.”

Hei Yuan gritted his teeth like he’d just swallowed a mouthful of gravel. “Of course it’s a big deal, you sun-roasted pigeon! So what if I am at the Sixth Realm? It had a dragon’s bloodline! No need to nose-pick me, alright?! I know how tough dragons are.”

He pointed at Lu Gao, then at Jin Wen, flailing with every word.

“I am just saying… I tried to control one of them back in the Shenyuan War. Remember?! The big one with the fog? I still can’t sneeze without thinking I’m gonna set something on fire. Huh?! Huh?!”

I raised a hand. “Calm down.”

He immediately deflated, muttering something about respect for elders and battlefield etiquette. Old man threw tantrums like a toddler. Who knew? If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was faking half his white hairs.

Then I felt it.

Another vibration.

”What is it this time?”

This one was sharper. Smaller epicenters. Fast.

”Fuck.”

The sand just ahead shifted and then burst upward like ruptured earth.

A winged creature emerged: emaciated, skeletal, and with limbs far too long and bent at angles that offended biology. The wings weren’t exactly feathered. They were cracked and leathery, like something meant to burn in heaven but cast out halfway through.

It shrieked in a soundless-like cry, causing me severe migraine.

Then another! And another! More shrieks followed. Seven of them in total, each one rising from the sand like corpses pulled from a dream. Each one battered, like they’d lost a war somewhere else before showing up here for round two.

They didn’t float. They twitched, like some doll in a horror movie.

My spine went cold.

“These guys are fast,” I muttered. “So…”

I needed to end this now.

I clasped my hands. “Summon: Holy Spirit.”

The golden sigil flared behind me… and Dave appeared. Full plate, wingless, amd visor down. My divine bodyguard. I linked to him instantly. “Voice Chat: Dave. Give me Divine Possession.” His armored form blurred and merged into me like a sunrise folding inward. Magic rushed through me, divine slots clicking into place.

Five Spell Slots were no accessible. Good.

I switched my TriDivine Passive to TriDivine: Divine Speed. I also removed my Cosmetic Item, the Lofty Jade Proposition, revealing the ornate armor underneath. My Wandering Adjudicator Armor gleamed in full golden-blue majesty with a flowing ethereal emerald cape flowing behind.

“Zealot’s Stride.”

Power surged up my legs. My boots tore shallow furrows in the sand as the buff flooded my body with kinetic hunger. Then: Flash Step. Flash Step. Flash Step. The world blurred with streaks of motion. I was lightning wrapped in cloth. My sword, Silver Steel, pulsed with the upgraded version of Heavenly Punishment. Light cracked around it like divine static.

I drove the blade straight into my own chest.

...Thud.

The blade stayed. Mana whirled. The Reflect Damage effect began to accrue every hit I would have taken and spun it into volatile, divine retaliation. Paired with Sacrificial Zeal, it built up fast.

“Divine Word: Life.”

My body pulsed. Wounds forcibly tried to seal themselves, but with the sword still in my chest, I wouldn’t be healing at a hundred percent any time soon. Still, every future healing spell now came supercharged with a bonus effect and temporary health.

Two of the angels lunged.

I brushed past them.

They exploded. Divine backlash took their damaged, cursed bodies and unraveled them like paper dolls in a bonfire. I gritted my teeth, forcing control over the raging storm inside me. Willpower made sure there would be no friendly fire. Not today. One of the angels dove toward a Falconeer.

“Castling.” My body blurred and swapped places with the Falconeer, and I met the angel mid-air with a clenched fist to its center.

Boom!

Light scattered. Three left.

I scooped a handful of sand, hurled it in front of me. A crude wall of sand acted as a screen, and it had been enough. The angels seemingly hesitated. Their senses weren’t human, but that still distracted them. My sword was still stuck in my chest, the Reflect Damage ticking upward. 

What’s next?

I could hear Hei Yuan muttering somewhere, “What are those?”

One of the angels touched an Imperial Phoenix Guard. Before it could do its absorb-thing…

“Castling.” I swapped again. ”Flash Step.”

The angel brushed against me. It exploded on contact. Divine backlash amplified by Reflect and Sacrificial Zeal vaporized it. Two left. I lunged toward them, my hand open in a blade shape.

“Divine Smite!”

My palm struck the air. The spell exploded on impact, cutting through both angels in a cleaving, radiant arc. Light burst across the field. Two silent screams… then silence.

I scanned through my Divine Sense.

One still survived, scurrying to bury itself in the sand.

I reached inward, called out with Voice Chat.

“Dave… gimme a spear.”

He responded instantly, my conjured spirit forming a golden spear in my hand, etched with ancient runes of war and justice. I held it overhead. It crackled with power.

“Thunderous Smite.”

The spear sparked with holy lightning. I hurled it with both hands.

It howled through the sky.

CRACK—!

The final angel disintegrated in a streak of thunder and light.

Silence fell.

I stood still, heart thudding, sword still lodged in my chest like a divine battery pack. The wind swept across the sand, carrying ash and golden particles with it.

Bai Zheme exhaled loudly. “Well. Damn.”

Han Lun stared at me, then at the scorched remains. “...Okay, that was slightly cool. As expected of Master Wei!”

“That’s Sir Da Wei to you,” remarked Xue Xin.

I looked down at myself,a nd then at the others. No one got absorbed. My body was still glowing with power. I sighed in relief at the outcome, though I was starting to have a bad feeling it would just get worse from here on out.

Small victories, I guessed.

“If anything, I am getting used to this… Berserker paladin build, huh? Not bad.”