Immortal Paladin

“Insecure much?” asked the strange man.

Aixin had the thought again, the one she tried so hard to smother, to bury beneath duty and divine mandate. “What if I lose?” 

It wasn’t new, not entirely, but it had been faint before. It had been a passing haze that dissolved the moment her staff cleaved through another soul or obstacle. However, this time, it lingered. It took root. And Aixin, high seraph of the Supreme Heart, could not ignore it.

When had it started? When Da Wei forced her onto her knees with a spell laced in defiance? When he resurrected himself, half-alive, a walking corpse powered by grit and borrowed miracles? Was it when he reclaimed his own body from her grasp using Divine Possession, something no mortal should’ve been able to pull off? No… she knew the answer before she even asked.

It was when he killed himself… 

Not for strategy. Not out of fear. But out of something far more reckless and far more human. He had burned his Divine Soul in a suicidal blaze to keep her from succeeding. That was when Aixin first felt it… that seeping, corrosive thought whispering from beneath the surface.

‘What if I fail?’

She swung her weapon, the great cross-halberd that once symbolized purification and clarity. Her voice cracked with exertion as she cast Greater Cleanse on herself again and again, attempting to rid her borrowed flesh of the unnatural lethargy coiling around her limbs like vines. The sleep was not ordinary. No spell of rest had ever bent her knees like this, but Da Wei’s wasn’t ordinary. His magic was threaded with Quintessence… raw, untamed, and erratically divine.

“How?! How is this all possible?”

Da Wei didn’t dodge. He let the edge of her weapon cut him open, blood blooming across his chest like a rose too proud to wilt. She braced herself, waiting for the backlash. The reflected damage would’ve torn through any other enemy completely, but her. However, instead of lashing back at her, the divine recoil veered away and struck the angels swarming behind him. Their bodies burst mid-flight in showers of radiant gore.

Aixin’s brow furrowed. Her balance faltered for a fraction of a moment. Her breath grew slower and heavier. Sleep tugged at her thoughts. ‘He’s casting again.’ She tried to retreat. More importantly, she tried to regroup. The rift she’d opened was not an escape in itself… it led to a sealed sub-dimension within the Hollowed World. To truly leave, she needed to pass through the Arch Gate.

That gate… ‘I made arrangements,’ she reminded herself.

Shouquan, that timeless relic, was the current guardian of the Arch Gate. She had coordinated a trap in advance for the old fool, a safeguard to ensure no interference if she ever needed to leave in a hurry. Now, with every breath she took feeling heavier than the last, Aixin reactivated that fail-safe for herself and moved… no, vanished… traveling at near-light speeds toward the Arch Gate.

Formations lit up in her legs as she zoomed through the air.

Then the world spun.

Stone exploded around her as buildings shattered beneath her impact. Her breath hitched, her vision blurred, and for one agonizing moment, she couldn’t process what had happened. Her wrist burned with pressure. She looked up and saw him.

Da Wei held her wrist with the grip of a man who had long since stopped caring about pain. His voice, roughened from overuse and defiance, was calm as he said, “Compel Duel.”

A radiant ring formed above her head. She felt the magic click into place, and her heart plummeted.

“If you try to leave me behind,” Da Wei said, lifting Silver Steel again, “your attributes drop, your blessings shatter, and then you’d be easy pickings. So don’t run on me, okay?”

The angels still swarmed above, but they were fodder now. Each one burst apart the moment they neared Da Wei, torn asunder by the same redirected force that had crippled her flanking formation.

Aixin hated it.

Hated how close it all felt. Hated how his methods echoed those who had trained her, sanctified her, and loved her. Da Wei was a contradiction, a desecrated paladin wielding divine laws like broken glass. His actions were profane, but his damn resolve tasted of righteousness. It sickened her.

Still, she kept her composure. “You can do nothing,” she said, forcing her voice to remain level. “You will never make me leave this vessel. Give up. I may not be able to take you to my master anymore, but I can take her. Through her, I will absolve myself. I will earn his love again.”

There was a silence between them… not heavy, not empty, but alive with the sound of wings burning in the heavens and stone groaning underfoot. Her pulse hammered behind her eyes. Da Wei, for all his damage, stood tall. A dead man animated by purpose, by vengeance, and by a stubbornness she no longer had the tools to understand.

He hadn’t answered her.

But he didn’t need to.

Because she had already started to fall asleep.

“NO!”

Aixin refused to sleep.

The thought of slipping into the quiet oblivion of unconsciousness, of letting go even for a heartbeat, was unbearable. Her eyes snapped open, burning gold and red, fury pooling in her cheeks as she rose, weapon arcing with vengeful grace through the rubble-strewn air.

But Da Wei was already upon her.

A massive hand clamped over her face with casual cruelty, fingers pressing deep into her skull. Before she could react, he hurled her like a ragdoll into the side of another building. Stone and steel exploded around her, the structure collapsing inward as if the world itself sought to bury her failure.

He reappeared above the crater, looking down with neither pity nor triumph. ”It seems,” Da Wei muttered, almost bored, ”I have to bring your health lower… like a damn Pokémon.”

She blinked up at him, dazed but confused. As usual, the words meant little to her. He spoke in metaphors foreign to her time, her faith, and her purpose. She could grasp the intent… that mocking tone, that infuriating lightness… but not the meaning. She didn’t need to understand his gibberish to recognize the insult.

Da Wei’s blade descended in a silver arc, cleaving cleanly through her left arm. The limb spun into the dust, still clutching her weapon.

With a breath, she commanded her body to repair. Divine blessings surged. Her Quintessence bloomed, pure and golden, wrapping her like a mother’s touch. The limb regrew from bone, sinew, and flesh… all of it restored in a blink. The vessel might be breakable, but Aixin had made certain it would never stay broken for long.

Da Wei didn’t wait. Another slash came. It was a blur of violence and speed. First the arms again, then the waist. Her body exploded, guts unraveling in the air, her divine ichor hissing against shattered stone.

“Smite him, my feathers!”

Aixin’s wings of luminous feathers burst outward in reflexive defense, a barrage of divine light hammering Da Wei with the fury of heaven itself.

The feathers struck true, peeling skin from muscle, muscle from bone. For a moment, he was nothing but gore and spine, a scarecrow of divine wrath.

And yet… he stood.

As quickly as she healed, he healed. As fiercely as she struck, he retaliated. This was no longer a battle of strength but of endurance. It was a battle attrition! Aixin thought it might be enough. If she could stall him long enough, she could escape. She could still escape. The vessel wasn’t gone. Not yet. If Da Wei spent the last of his existence, then just maybe she could rip Joan free and vanish into the folds of the stars.

But each blow shattered that hope further.

Da Wei carved through her again, stepping forward like a judge with no gavel but his blade. Her body was becoming less and less hers. The vessel’s frame was strong, but Da Wei was stronger. She screamed, ragged and raw, ”You’re going to kill her!”

”Joan can take it,” Da Wei replied flatly, almost amused. He adjusted his grip, blood dripping from his fingers like wine from a cracked chalice. ”Lore-wise, our souls are immortal, you know?”

Aixin’s fury fractured into fear. It wasn’t the pain… it never was. It was the certainty in his voice, the terrifying calm with which he dismantled her.

”What are you doing?” she asked, voice trembling despite herself.

Da Wei didn’t answer. Not with words.

He pressed his foot against her stomach, pinning her broken frame against the ground. With his free hand, he reached into his own chest and tore his heart free. There was no blood. No scream. Just the hollow crunch of rib and the gleam of something crystalline in his grasp.

Aixin’s breath caught.

The ’heart’ shimmered… not flesh, but glass, pure and ancient. A symbol burned within it: the mark of the Supreme Being. Her god. The same god she had served, obeyed, and killed for.

Da Wei’s voice was low and grave. “This… was the core of the time loop you trapped me in.” He held the glass heart up to the fractured sky. “An ancient existence told me how to deal with this particular curse. What was it called again?” He tilted his head, mocking a memory. “The curse? The Never Ending Bond of Regrets?”

He stepped closer, kneeling so their eyes met, his face bruised but burning with purpose.

“This is your last chance,” he said. “Leave Joan’s body. And you won’t have to be trapped forever in this world.”

A sudden realization clawed its way into Aixin’s mind like a shard of broken memory slicing through fog. Her lips parted, breath catching, as her wide eyes locked onto the glass heart pulsing in Da Wei’s hand.

“Wait,” she gasped, voice rising to a shriek, “you knew him?”

Da Wei blinked, cocking his head with amused curiosity.

“That arrogant fool?” Aixin screamed. “The one who only knew how to play?! That worthless god of idiots?!”

“Harsh,” Da Wei replied, smiling with that maddening calm of his. “I’d love to chat more, really, I would. Learn more about our mutual ‘friend’ and all. But, you know…” He tapped the side of his cracked skull. “Time limit.”

His foot pressed deeper into her gut. Bones groaned under the weight. Quintessence flared in defense, but Aixin could feel her control slipping. The vessel was failing. The timing was too fast, too relentless.

“Hey,” Da Wei added, almost cheerfully, “since you were buying time anyway, mind telling me how you did it? The time loop curse? Or was it the petrification? That combo was nasty. Really messed me up.”

Aixin gritted her teeth. Her wings flared, casting a divine shadow over the battlefield, but there was nowhere left to fly. More angels burst from the clouds in her defense, shimmering and radiant, but again… They didn’t even reach him.

With a mere shrug, they were reduced to gore.

Aixin thrashed beneath him. She had to get free. She had to. This place… this Hollowed World… it wasn’t meant to contain her. Only True Souls could exist here by default. But she hadn’t used her True Soul to descend. No, she had used something far older and far more cunning. A forbidden consciousness transfer technique… one so refined it bypassed the world’s divine filtration systems.

It had cost her dearly.

Her main body, hidden deep in the Greater Universe, lay in eternal slumber. The toll of this descent was absolute. She could not reawaken if her current self was trapped. That was what Da Wei intended. She could see it in his eyes now.

For a split second, a thought flickered across her psyche like lightning on the horizon: ‘Leave the vessel. Abandon Joan. Flee while there’s still time.’

But then she remembered the warmth of her master’s presence. The taste of divine favor. That trembling moment, eons ago, when He had looked at her and smiled.

Her hunger for that affection drowned everything else.

“No,” she whispered. “Not yet.”

Time to stall, she decided

“You are truly a pathetic fool,” she spat. “To think you would sacrifice your Divine Soul? To give up so much power… for what? Righteousness? Revenge?” Her laughter was broken and cruel. “Curiosity? If you are so desperate to know, I’ll tell you.”

Da Wei arched a brow, the glow in his sockets dimming just slightly.

Aixin hissed, “The Never Ending Bond of Regrets… It’s a curse that manipulates time itself. A temporal enchantment rooted in divine sorrow. It burdens the host with layered misfortunes and triggers time reversion under precise emotional thresholds. You remember when we first met? When I cast the Heavenly Punishment upon you?” Her lips curled into a sneer. “You were infected then. The curse had already taken root.”

Da Wei’s hand clenched slowly around the heart.

“As for the petrification,” Aixin continued, her voice rising into something shrill and exultant, “that was my favorite. Punishment of the Wicked Who Pretends to Be Good. Poetic, isn’t it? A curse my slave, Mao Xian, had been collecting for years. With his help, I imbued it onto that poor girl… Shan Dian, was it?” She laughed again, wild and sharp. “Mortals. So fragile. So easy to twist. Don’t you agree?”

Da Wei didn’t move. He was listening. And Aixin fed on that attention.

“But me?” she said, eyes gleaming with a fanatical fire. “I am not like them. I am not fragile. I am not disposable. I am a God. A grand existence adored by a Being greater than you could comprehend. While you rot in this cursed reality, I will rise. I will be chosen again.”

Her voice turned into a chant, a mad declaration of purpose that rang across the heavens and echoed in the hollowed ruins below.

“I am Aixin,” she said, trembling from pain and pride, “vessel of the divine, eternal flame of the beloved! I will not be caged!”

Da Wei looked down at her with something that wasn’t quite pity and wasn’t quite disdain. There was a strange gentleness in his face, but it was the kind that one reserved for broken things that couldn’t be fixed.

“I don’t think you’re a god,” he said, calm and deliberate. “Or a goddess. Or whatever you’ve convinced yourself you are.”

Aixin blinked at him, breath shallow, her body failing to stitch itself back together fast enough.

“I mean, with all that insecurity?” Da Wei continued, voice dry. “You shout about divinity and power like you’re trying to drown out the silence inside your own head. Honestly, I feel kinda bad for you. You keep lifting your ego up like a child stacking sand castles on a rising tide. But, lady…” He leaned in closer, not cruel, not angry… just done. “You’re delusional.”

And with that, he raised the glass heart, the twisted artifact of loops, regrets, and pain, and slammed it into her chest.

A flash of force pulsed through the vessel’s frame, embedding the crystalline shard just beside the heart. A new rhythm echoed inside her, not divine, not her own. Foreign. Limiting.

“I’ve tried every solution I could think of,” Da Wei muttered, watching the glow stabilize. “I’ve tried to find a way out of this. It’s tough…” He exhaled, shaking his head. “Finally. This way I won’t resurrect or time loop by accident for real.”

“You…”

“I get it now,” he said softly. “You wanted my karma to dip so low, you could break the system and steal my body. Smart plan. Evil, sure. But smart. Just... not cool.”

Aixin couldn’t respond. She couldn’t breathe.

Her strength drained like water from a cracked vessel. She could feel her consciousness slipping, dragging her deeper than any divine slumber she had known. The connection to her true body flickered, distorted. The Hollowed World’s cruel nature folded around her like a trap, and she was caught. Caught! Her greatest fear was coming true, and she had no power left to prevent it.

The irony burned more than her wounds.

How unfair, she thought dimly, that a mortal could toy with her like this. After all her schemes, all her faith, all her sacrifices, she was being handled and dismissed like a failed student by a man who shouldn’t have survived their first meeting.

Her vision darkened at the edges.

Her last thought was not of her master, nor of her glory. It was of Da Wei’s eyes… not hateful, but tired.

Then his voice reached her again, like a lullaby soaked in resignation.

“Close your eyes now, Sleeping Beauty.”

He lifted a hand, etched in blood and light, and spoke the words that sealed her fate.

“Divine Word: Rest.”

And Aixin… obeyed.