Immortal Paladin

The aurora breathed in and out, each pulse drawing the stars closer, then pushing them far away like the tides of a dream. I watched it expand across the void, shimmering veils of emerald and violet folding over each other, and felt like a speck caught in the breath of heaven. The stars around us spun like lazy fireflies, drawn toward the center of something immense. Then the vision zoomed inward again, tightening like the iris of a divine eye, and we slipped through a crack in the universe.

We were back.

The Hollowed World emerged from the black. In that warped space, we drifted toward a colossal planet… No, calling it a “planet” felt lacking. It was a god-swallowed thing, a goliath so massive that the other celestial bodies orbiting it looked like flecks of dust by comparison. Only now did I realize how absurdly vast the Hollowed World had become. Every century or so, new landmasses were drawn into it from collapsing realms, and over countless iterations, this world had grown fat on ruin. Even now, I saw remnants of devoured continents, jagged islands trailing orbit like a ring of shattered teeth.

Titanic chains stretched from the Hollowed World to its floating satellites, anchoring debris and broken fragments of former heavens. And yet, despite its impossible size, it was utterly invisible from the outside. Black as oblivion. Hidden by design. No wonder Meng Po called it a Poison Jar.

We fell through a rift in space, the whirlpool formed from Meng Po’s parting power coiling around us like a funnel of mist. It deposited us gently on solid ground.

And then we were somewhere completely different.

Hei Mao stepped forward, glancing around warily. “Where are we?”

I squinted at the haze, then muttered, “Mountain?”

The wind carried a dry, ancient chill. I turned around and my breath caught. Before us stood a gate, not a wall or a door, but a vast stone arch that shimmered with sealed symbols. It pulsed faintly with blue and gold, inscriptions etched in characters older than the current era. And suddenly, I knew exactly where we were.

“I know this…” I said, almost laughing in disbelief. “It’s the Arch Gate. We’re on the Sacred Mountain of Ward.”

Before I could say anything more, a thunderous shout echoed through the fog.

“WHO GOES THERE?!”

I turned just in time to catch a spear descending toward my chest, wrapped in crackling lightning. I pinched the tip between my fingers, stopping it cold. Sparks danced around my hand. The spear vibrated with intent, not some cheap imitation, but a weapon wielded with genuine technique.

The attacker stepped into view. His beard was wild, half-frozen, and his tattered chainmail bore the scars of too many winters. Lightning and frost clung to his shoulders like a second skin. I studied his face and felt something stir in my chest. It took me a second, but then…

“Tao Long!” I exclaimed. “I miss you, buddy!”

He didn’t lower the spear. Instead, he narrowed his eyes and hissed, “Who are you?!”

Then, with a sharp twist, he snapped the spear back, and it moved like a snake.

For someone under the human transformation of a dragon, he was fast even for me. And he carried himself with the same honed tension I remembered, and every muscle coiled like a beast trained in restraint.

“It’s me,” I said, palms raised. “Don’t you recognize me? I’m Da Wei—”

“LIES!” Tao Long’s eyes gleamed with fury.

He roared and lunged, lightning coursing down his limbs as he thrust with the spear. His aura exploded around him as coiling arcs of light formed a dragon that wrapped around his body

Hei Mao blinked in and out of existence like a glitch in reality. Then, with a cheeky grin, he reappeared beside Tao Long, holding the stolen spear in both hands.

“Calm down, will you?” Hei Mao said as he spun the weapon and rested it casually over his shoulders.

Tao Long stared at his empty hand, then at Hei Mao, then at me. His voice trembled.

“...Lord Wei?”

“Yep.”

“I saw you die! He told me you died!”

“Congratulations on reaching the Tenth Realm,” I replied, still unsure if I should be laughing or sighing. “Also… who told you I died?”

“You must be a ghost!” Tao Long shouted, and his body erupted with light.

In an instant, he shed his human form. Scales burst through his skin, blue as the bottom of the ocean. His body stretched, elongated, and curled through the sky like a celestial ribbon. Tao Long, in full draconic form, was a vision of fury and elegance… his long, serpentine body easily casting shade across the mountain’s face. Azure light rippled down his back like rolling thunderclouds.

He inhaled essence, and his chest glowed with concentrated force.

Then he exhaled, and the world turned blue.

A stream of azure fire surged toward us like a tidal wave of judgment. I didn’t even blink. I raised one hand, palm open, and activated a technique.

“Judgment Severance.”

A golden cross burst into existence before me. The beam of fire collided with it and vanished.

Tao Long flinched midair, disbelief clear in his flickering eyes.

Clearly, my old friend was confused and perhaps not in the most stable of states. I didn’t want to hurt him. But I wasn’t going to keep playing defense.

Hei Mao stepped forward, his expression serious for once. “Let me handle this, Master.”

“Okay,” I said, stepping back.

He made a quick hand sign, and the shadows around him deepened. They swirled up his legs, across his arms, and then scattered into the sky like an ink cloud drawn by divine brush.

From above, my Divine Sense caught the shape: a massive caricature, something more symbolic than real. The figure of a feline… no, not a mere cat… more like a spectral predator with cartoonish shape and paws. Okay, there was no way to describe that thing, but it looked like a blob-shaped cat of blackness.

”It looks kind of cute,” I muttered to no one in particular.

A single paw slammed down from the heavens.

The mountain shuddered.

And Tao Long, the azure dragon, was pinned beneath its weight.

I leapt through the air in a streak of light with Zealot’s Stride. The world blurred below me. In the space of a heartbeat, I landed cleanly on Tao Long’s massive snout, my quintessence-made boots clicking against the smooth azure scales that shimmered with residual elemental force. His eyes narrowed, focusing on me through the haze of battle instincts.

“Hey, Tao Long,” I said casually, crouching just slightly to balance myself. “Are you calm now?”

His serpentine eye blinked once, slowly. “It hurts…”

From behind me, Hei Mao rose like a phantom from the shadow I cast on the dragon’s face, arms crossed, smug expression carved across his too-sharp features. If arrogance could take physical form, it would’ve looked just like him.

“Mao, please?” I muttered.

He made a dismissive wave, and the mirage of the giant paw rippled once before vanishing like smoke caught in the wind. Tao Long groaned as his draconic body began to shift. Bone, scale, and light folded into itself, shrinking and reshaping until he stood before us once again in his humanoid form. His beard was still as wild, but the fire in his eyes dimmed slightly as he locked gazes with Hei Mao.

“You look familiar,” Tao Long said slowly.

“It’s me,” Hei Mao replied, throwing up both arms. “Hei Mao!”

Tao Long squinted. “I don’t know any Hei Mao.”

“Well, I don’t know about you, too,” Hei Mao replied with a shrug, clearly enjoying himself.

The awkward silence that followed made it difficult not to burst out laughing. Tao Long looked like someone had just reminded him of a dream he once forgot, something just on the edge of recollection. His brow furrowed, lips tightening as he stared at Hei Mao. Still, he didn’t press the issue.

I took the opportunity to speak. “What’s the problem then? How long has it been?”

Tao Long didn’t answer immediately. His fists clenched at his sides, trembling slightly.

“The problem?” he repeated, voice rising. “That you’re alive! If you were alive, it should’ve been you guarding the Arch Gate and not me! I should be out there, looking for my brothers and sisters! Or at least trying to track down Master Shouquan!”

His voice cracked by the end, rage and grief bleeding together. I hadn’t expected that.

I exhaled. “Sorry, buddy. I don’t think I’ll be guarding the gate anytime soon…”

He turned away, his shoulders hunched in resignation. For a dragon, he suddenly looked very human.

Judging by Tao Long’s ragged state and the strain buried in his voice, something terrible had happened. His soul felt worn and coiled like a spring that had stayed compressed for far too long. The Hollowed World hadn’t been kind to him.

“How long has it been since you last saw me?” I asked quietly.

“I can’t say…” Tao Long replied. “For me, it’s been thousands of years. I forced the Sacred Mountain to dilate time using the formations Master Shouquan left behind. I had to rely on them to defend the Arch Gate, so time moves differently here.”

Huh? Were time powers that common? It was probably just a coincidence... Thousands of years for Tao Long probably wasn’t a lot, but that was a long time. Just to hold this place alone, waiting for someone who might never come back.

“Tao Long,” I said carefully. “Can you let me inside your memories?”

He hesitated. The idea wasn’t foreign to him… Divine Possession wasn’t something I used lightly, but those close to me had seen it before. And Tao Long had once been one of the closest.

He nodded. “I… Fine.”

I plucked one of my souls and pressed it forward, allowing the spiritual thread to cross into Tao Long. It sank into his chest like ink diffusing in water. I closed my eyes and followed.

The world twisted.

Suddenly, I stood beneath a sky choked with black smoke. Corpses littered the field, their uniforms half-torn, their flags unrecognizable. Tao Long surged through them in draconic glory, his azure flame cutting swaths through waves of demonic beasts. And at his side was a man wielding holy light like a blade, his silver armor half-burnt, his stance unmistakable.

“Mao Xian?” I muttered. “No… That’s not quite right.”

It wasn’t Mao Xian. It was Dave, my Holy Spirit, wearing Mao Xian’s body.

…

..

.

[POV: Tao Long]

Tao Long hadn’t trusted the man who called himself Da Wei’s Holy Spirit.

He remembered their first encounter well. The stranger had arrived wounded and half-starved, wearing Mao Xian’s body like a borrowed robe, claiming a name that made Tao Long’s scales itch: Dave. Or Dai Fu. There had been no ceremony, no divine proof. Just words, and a stubborn gleam in his eyes. He had called himself a fragment of Da Wei, a remnant of his soul, a servant of vengeance and light. Tao Long hadn’t believed him.

But desperation was a fierce persuader.

When the Sacred Mountain stood under siege, when the heavens themselves trembled and Shenyuan clones spilled across the broken firmament like swarms of locusts, Tao Long had needed every sword that could still swing, and every flame that still burned. If this Dave was willing to bleed for him, Tao Long would accept him.

At first, it had been caution that kept him near. Tao Long watched how Dave fought, like someone who had studied a thousand battlefields and learned the language of death fluently. He wielded both blade and divine light with unnerving instinct, carving down the enemies of the mountain with a fury that bordered on sacred wrath. He was unpredictable, but reliable. Cold, but not unfeeling.

In time, Tao Long began to trust him. Dave did not flinch before the army of Shenyuan clones, nor when the Heavenly Temple’s corrupted wards fell upon them. His holy aura sizzled in their presence, clashing violently with the thick, heavy malevolence that radiated from within him.

That duality was what disturbed Tao Long most.

He had seen Dave kneel in prayer after slaying hundreds. He had also seen him weep not for the dead, but for the power he could not yet grasp. Tao Long offered advice, old training drills, insight into breath techniques and formations… anything to help refine the Holy Spirit’s wild edge.

Strangely, Dave did grow stronger and far too quickly.

It wasn’t just cultivation. He changed after every battle, like something inside him was feeding off the carnage. As if the essence of those he killed lingered, absorbed into the threads of his soul. Tao Long watched, uncertain. It wasn’t the rise of a noble hero he was witnessing. It was the sharpening of a blade designed to cut down gods.

And yet… they had fought side by side. They had bled for the same cause. There was camaraderie in shared suffering, even if the motives behind it were different. Tao Long could not deny it: Dave had become a comrade, and perhaps even a friend.

When Dave finally reached the Tenth Realm, it happened quietly. Malevolent qi coiled around him like a second skin, writhing against the divine radiance he had cultivated. The two forces did not merge. Instead, they clashed constantly. A storm inside a man.

Tao Long remembered his final glimpse of him. Dave had turned once before leaving, his eyes distant, voice flat.

“I have a purpose that I must fulfill.”

And then he was gone.

…

..

.

Back in the Summit Hall, I’ve done a lot of questionable things.

Back then, I had implanted my Holy Spirit into Mao Xian’s body. Not because I wanted to gamble with someone else’s soul, but because I believed that Dave would be strong enough to take control, to steal the body and use it to save Joan. I had faith that a part of me, fractured but unbroken, could do what I couldn’t in that moment. That fragment had become something else entirely. Dave was no longer just a shard of my divinity. Instead, he had turned into a force of vengeance sharpened through fire and failure.

Hopefully, he wouldn’t be lost on his path.

It had been idealistic. I see that now. Hope doesn’t pair well with looming death, especially not when Aixin and the Supreme Heart were closing in. Still, I don’t regret my decision back then. I did what I could. In the face of annihilation, what more could I offer but my sincerest wish?

I returned to my own body, the pull of Divine Possession loosening like a tide going out. The moment I settled into my skin again, I felt the sharp clarity of the present. Part of me itched to return to the False Earth. But I knew better than to walk into it unarmed. Not this time. A place like the False Earth eats the unprepared. I’d walked into it before with hope and raw strength. I would return with control and purpose.

So I made a choice.

I left one of my souls inside Tao Long. It settled into his core gently, wrapping around his essence like a silken thread of qi. It wasn’t just a failsafe. It was a promise.

“Continue guarding the Arch Gate,” I told him. “I am sorry, but we’ll have to go now.”

He looked stunned, still raw from what we’d shared. “Where are you going?”

I didn’t dress it up.

“Back to the Grand Ascension Empire,” I said. “There are things I must do there…”

Tao Long didn’t argue. He simply bowed his head and clenched his fists at his side. I could tell he understood. There wasn’t a need for dramatic goodbyes. If something happened, he would know what to do.

“Pray to my name,” I added quietly, “and I will come for you.”

No matter what.

“Thank you, Tao Long, for guarding the Arch Gate and everything… Until then…”