Immortal Paladin

“No, I don’t think that’s the case,” I said to Chief Wan Peng, my voice clear despite the strain in my chest. “I suggest we stay.”

My father, Da Jin, reacted as I expected. “Wei!” he cried, his tone torn between fear and frustration. It must’ve sounded like I was contradicting the Chief, maybe even being impudent, but I couldn’t allow silence to be mistaken for consent. “If you go,” I continued, turning toward my father with an earnest gaze, “then I won’t be able to come with you. Which means I won’t be there to protect you, or Mother, or Da Ji.” My fingers gripped the edge of the cot as I steadied my voice. “I made a promise to the rest of my unit… to those who chose to believe in me. I told them they could find me here if they still wanted to follow me. I can’t abandon that.”

In truth, the guilt gnawed at me. The faces of the 112th haunted my every pause. My route home had been anything but direct. There were no maps or signposts, only wild terrain, burnt markers, and broken villages.

“I understand why you want to flee,” I said to Chief Wan Peng, his silence stretching into weight. “The instinct to run to the nearest lord, to beg protection from someone with a larger army… It’s natural. But is it wise? The Empire is gone, and the next so-called protector might be worse than the last. What’s safer—rushing into a cage and calling it shelter, or standing where you know the land, where you can defend what you know?”

My mother stood to the side. She was quiet, her hands clasped in her sleeves. Da Ji sat attentively, her face half-hidden behind the doorframe.

“I believe there’s another option,” I continued. “We rely on ourselves. The way our ancestors did, the way your stories always began, Chief. Let me teach the village martial arts. I know the aversion, how the villagers see martial arts as a poison, something that brought too much blood and war. But that’s not the fault of the art. It was the hearts of the wielders that turned it toward evil. We must stop blaming the sword for the sins of the hand.”

I inhaled deeply, drawing strength from something older than just pain. “If we are to survive in this new era, we must be willing to take fate by the throat. The jiangshi are only the beginning. The Heavenly Demon was no myth. And the man who cried glory to the Yama King before bursting into gore… that wasn’t madness. That was a glimpse of the storms ahead.”

I had never liked making promises. Maybe it came from the culture I was born into before this world… Earth was a place where words were too often hollow, and people used hope like currency. I feared promises because they made you liable. They forced you to be responsible. But now, I could see this village needed one, something to believe in, something solid in this quaking world.

“I may be young,” I said, lowering my head until my palms touched the cot, “but I have heart, and I have power. Let me help this village. Let me protect it. We don’t need lords who won’t even listen. We need strength, and I can give it to you.”

Silence followed my words. Then, from the hallway, Da Ji raised her voice with a kind of determined defiance that only a child could muster. “I know martial arts! Big brother taught me! If I can learn it—me, a little girl!—then the adults can learn it too!”

She looked proud and serious, puffing up her chest as if she were already standing atop a battlefield. Her simple words cracked the stillness like thunder.

Wan Peng didn’t speak at once. His brow was heavy with thought. Then, with a slow nod, he finally said, “I will think about it. I must speak with the heads of the households. If we are to take this path, it must be with the will of the village.”

After Chief Wan Peng departed, my father followed with a worried glance back at me. I nodded to reassure him, though the weight in my chest hadn’t lightened one bit. When I tried to stand and excuse myself, Mother immediately objected. “You’re not fully healed yet,” she said sternly, placing a firm hand on my arm.

“I won’t go far,” I promised, meeting her eyes. “I just need some air. Please.”

She hesitated, her lips pursed with concern, but eventually relented. “Don’t push yourself,” she said, her voice softer now. “Come back before sunset.”

As I stepped outside, Da Ji trailed after me, her feet light but insistent. “Let me come with you!”

I smiled at her and gently ruffled her hair. “I’ll be fine, Ji’er. I just need a little time alone to think. I promise I’ll come back soon.”

She pouted but didn’t argue. That alone showed how much she’d matured while I was away. I gave her a small wave before turning toward the familiar dirt path that led to the creek.

The sun dipped low behind the trees, casting long golden fingers over the quiet forest. The air was fresh and filled with the earthy scent of moss and flowing water. The creek wasn’t far, just a bend away, nestled between smooth rocks and whispering reeds. Da Ji and I used to play here when we were younger, splashing each other with water or playing pretend with sticks and stones. The place hadn’t changed, but I had.

I dropped down onto the largest flat rock by the bank and started skipping pebbles across the shallows. Each bounce over the water gave me something to focus on, something to distract me from the spiraling thoughts… war, survival, the promise I’d just made, and the terrifying unknowns still waiting beyond the horizon.

After a while, I sat up straight and took a breath. “It should be fine,” I told myself, though my body protested even the thought of summoning again. My lifeforce had already been pushed to its limits, but there was someone I needed to see… someone who had haunted both my dreams and my fading hopes.

“Summon: Holy Spirit,” I whispered, focusing my will. A pulse of warmth left my chest, far weaker than usual. I braced myself, leaning forward slightly from the effort.

A ripple formed in the air in front of me. Then, slowly, a shape emerged… cloaked in dark fur, a red scarf fluttering behind his neck like a banner against the twilight wind. His figure came into view, and the breath caught in my throat.

“…Hei Mao,” I murmured, barely believing my eyes. The same wry smirk, the same lazy posture—but something about him felt… faded, distant, like a dream I had forgotten too many times.

I stood up shakily, my legs nearly buckling beneath me. “I thought I lost you,” I choked out, voice breaking. My eyes stung as he stepped forward, offering me that familiar, sheepish expression he always wore.

“It’s been some time, Master,” Hei Mao said softly. “You look younger than I remember.”

I lunged forward and hugged him, burying my face in his shoulder. “Where have you been?” I asked, nearly demanding it. The weight of everything slammed into me in that embrace.

“It’s… complicated,” he said, placing a hand on my back. “Too complicated, maybe.”

We sat side by side on the rocks. The world was quiet around us. I told him about the others… Gu Jie and her fierce pride, Ren Xun with his bad jokes, Lu Gao’s wisdom behind silence, and even Ren Jingyi.

Hei Mao listened without interrupting, nodding slowly. “I’m glad they’re alive,” he said at last, his voice tinged with something wistful. “They deserve to live well.”

When I finally paused to catch my breath, he looked around and asked, “So where are they now?”

I scratched the back of my head, feeling a little sheepish myself. “Well… I kind of died. And then woke up in this world.”

His ears twitched. “You what?”

“I died,” I repeated more calmly, “and somehow, I ended up here. In this strange world. My name is still mine, but this body… It’s hard to explain. Ever heard of reincarnation?”

Hei Mao blinked at me, then turned his gaze upward to the canopy as though trying to hear something beyond the realm of sound. “That explains a lot,” he murmured. “The qi here is so much thinner. I couldn’t use most of my usual spells. This whole place feels like it’s sealed in a layer of fog.”

“You’re not wrong,” I said, brushing a hand over the rock. “This is the center of the Hollowed World.”

His eyes widened. “Whaaaat?!” The sound echoed through the forest, birds fluttering into the air from the trees nearby. “Wait, wait, wait… Hollowed World? Like the Hollowed World?”

“Apparently,” I said with a dry chuckle. “Everything’s upside down, Hei Mao.”

He groaned and slumped back against the rock. “Master… You always find the strangest places to die in.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, though it was tinged with exhaustion. “It’s good to see you again.”

He looked at me with the faintest smile. “It’s good to be seen.”

I sat quietly for a long while, listening to the water gurgle through the creek and the wind rustle through the leaves overhead. Hei Mao’s presence beside me felt surreal, like a half-remembered dream come to life. But something had been bothering me. It was a thread tugging loose in the weave of his words.

“How did you know about the Hollowed World? I mean, you seem to understand the context of my situation...” I finally asked, not looking at him just yet. “And… where have you been all this time?”

Hei Mao’s voice was calm, but carried an undercurrent of weariness. “It’s a long story, Master. The last thing I remembered was my final gambit… when I tried to wrest control of my body back from Shenyuan.”

I grimaced at the name. That wound had never fully healed. Even now, the memory was etched deep into the walls of my mind… blood, battle, the sound of something sacred breaking. I could see Shenyuan’s smirk, the madness in his eyes, and the way he slaughtered his own kind.

I drew a breath and forced myself to speak. “Before you continue… there’s something I need to confess.”

Hei Mao turned toward me, his eyes narrowing slightly, expectant.

“I might have… killed you,” I said. The words scraped my throat. “When you got absorbed into Shenyuan, I didn’t hesitate. I went for the kill. I slaughtered him… and you. I told myself I had no choice, that it had to be done. But I’ve regretted it every day since.”

In truth, that moment was one of the lesser regrets in the flood that followed. Even if I had spared Shenyuan, he would’ve only escaped and returned later, stronger and crueler. But that didn’t change what I did to Hei Mao. I had made a choice, one carved out of fear and fury.

Without another word, I slid down from the rock and kowtowed before him, my forehead touching the dirt. “I know this might be too much coming from your useless Master, but… I ask for your forgiveness!”

For a moment, there was only silence, broken by the bubbling of the stream and the tremble in my arms. Then, I felt his hands on my shoulders as he gently pulled me back up.

“Don’t be like that, Master,” he said, a gentle smile in his voice. “You’re injured. And it turned out well, didn’t it?”

I let him guide me back to sit on the rock, the stiffness in my joints groaning along with my guilt.

“There’s no need to cling to the past,” he continued. “We’ve made our choices. It’s done. No point in dwelling.”

I managed a laugh, rough and dry. “You sound so full of wisdom.”

“I learned from the best.”

He said it so naturally that I had to pause. I turned toward him, lips curled in a soft grin, but before I could speak, he went on.

“Master, I don’t think I’ll be able to help you anymore.”

My grin faded into mock hurt. “What? Are you abandoning me now?”

Hei Mao didn’t smile. “Your lifespan has already been damaged. Every time you cast spells beyond your limit, you shorten it. If you keep this up, you’ll die.”

His words struck deeper than I expected. I knew I was burning through my essence recklessly, but to hear it spoken aloud made it real. For the first time, I was speechless.

“Master,” he said firmly, “you have to survive. So that we can meet again.”

I turned to him, confused. “Again?”

“After my… proverbial death, I was trapped in the Abyss. A long, terrible place. But eventually, a kind old lady from the Greater Universe found me. She pulled me out and gave me purpose. I’ve been doing errands for her since.”

My eyes widened. “Wait… you got your physical body back?”

Hei Mao nodded. “It’s being kept safe in the Greater Universe. It seems in Shenyuan’s death, the body returned to me in the Abyss… Something like that… You need to return to the Hollowed World, gather the others, and come find me there. We’ll meet again. All of us.”

An old lady… it seemed my wayward disciple had stumbled upon a benefactor. Someone powerful enough to rescue a spirit from the Abyss. I smiled wryly and nudged him lightly. “Ouch. I feel a bit hurt. Sounds like you found a new Master.”

“Don’t be like that, Master!” he replied, eyes wide with alarm. “I only have one Master, and that’s you!”

I laughed, despite everything. “I’m flattered, Hei Mao. But don’t hold yourself back. Seems like you managed to ascend faster than me.”

“This isn’t the time for jokes!” he snapped, brows furrowed. “Why do you always laugh like that when you’re cornered? That’s not the Master I idolized! Stop belittling yourself!”

I sighed, shoulders drooping. “Sorry. It must be pathetic to act this way.”

“It’s not pathetic. It’s human. But it doesn’t suit you, Master.”

There was silence for a while, the kind that settled softly, like a cloak on the shoulders. Then, Hei Mao looked at me with solemn eyes.

“You have to promise me, Master. You will escape this world. You’ll return to the Hollowed World. We’ll be together again.”

I hesitated. “It’s not that easy. There are people here… people who need me.”

He smiled with a bittersweet look. “Then be there for them. But be there for my seniors too. You must return.”

I watched him closely. “Do you have any news of the Hollowed World?”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Master. I haven’t heard anything.”

I nodded, lips pressed into a line. As if on cue, I noticed something strange. Hei Mao’s arm had become faintly translucent. His edges were fading. “It seems I’ve reached my limit,” he said, voice now light, like smoke on the wind. “I’ll see you again, Master.”

I stood slowly. “I feel the same.”

And then, like dew under the rising sun, he vanished. His smile lingered longest, then flickered out with the last light of the day. I stood alone by the creek, feeling the chill that remained. But also something warm… like a faint ember reigniting in my chest.