Immortal Paladin

The power to see the future was a paradox in itself. If one had true foresight, then what did that mean for choice? Could you still call it a decision if the result was already known? There were two prevailing theories about this dilemma. The first held that destiny was fixed, and any glimpse of the future was not just a possibility, but a certainty. The second, more flexible model, believed that knowing the future allowed one to act and alter it, to diverge from what was seen and forge a new path.

Gu Jie’s former ability, the Sixth Sense Misfortune, adhered to the first theory. It allowed her to detect approaching misfortunes, accumulate them like poisonous threads, and either shoulder them herself or assign them to others. There was no fighting what she sensed, only bracing for it. On the other hand, Nongmin’s Heavenly Eye embodied the second theory. It was a lens into branching timelines, letting him perceive causes and effects across countless divergences, each one a strand of fate he could simulate and analyze.

Now, with both gifts merged into the Destiny Seeking Eyes, Gu Jie stood on the fragile fulcrum of predestination and possibility. Through her, I could look into a destiny both fixed and fluid. A contradiction. A miracle.

Within that fragile window, I reached. I took her hands in mine and invoked Divine Possession, merging my awareness with hers. She shuddered. I anchored her with buffs from my stats. Even then, I knew it wouldn’t be easy.

The world fell away.

I stood in a realm of streaming lights, ribbons of gold, silver, and soft blue twisting in an endless torrent. They spiraled and shifted, each thread a timeline, each spark a life. And when I focused, I could see them clearly. Every thread was a memory, a life I had lived or nearly lived. I saw versions of myself rise as emperors, fall as beggars, die as children, ascend as gods, or vanish as monsters. Some were barely shadows, aborted timelines that crumbled as soon as they formed. Others burned bright: choices I nearly made, roads not taken. I reached deeper, searching for one possibility above all others: the ending where I lived, my loved ones lived, and peace reigned.

And I found it.

But it was faint and fragile like glass.

Gu Jie trembled under the strain. I undid the Divine Possession before she shattered completely.

The world returned in a rush.

I blinked and gasped, snapping back to my body. Gu Jie collapsed forward, and I caught her just in time. Her knees nearly gave out beneath her.

“Big sis…” Ren Jingyi called out, stepping closer with her brows drawn in worry.

Lu Gao steadied himself, glancing at me. “Master, what’s the plan?”

Hei Mao, arms folded, said with quiet certainty, “Just so you know, I have no plans of being separated from you again, Master.”

Alice knelt by Gu Jie’s side, brushing hair from her brow. “Gu Jie… can you hear us?”

Gu Jie stirred and exhaled slowly, blood trickling from the corners of her eyes like crimson tears. I’d pushed too far. I reached out and cast Cure, letting a gentle warmth knit her spirit back together.

“That’s better…” she whispered, voice faint but stable.

“How much did you remember?” I asked gently.

Gu Jie’s lips parted, then faltered. “A lot,” she said, “but not enough. I didn’t see us win.”

I leaned back slightly, my voice level. “I did.”

Doubt flickered across the group. I didn’t blame them. With Gu Jie’s cultivation level, her mind wouldn’t retain every sliver of what we saw. Instead, she would only remember fragments and impressions.

Alice narrowed her eyes. “Are you telling the truth?”

I scoffed. “Of course I am. What do you think of me?”

They all stared at me.

“…What’s that about?!” I barked.

Hei Mao tilted his head thoughtfully. “Master, your definition of a ‘win’ is rather questionable.”

Alice smiled. It was a crooked, knowing thing. “Then maybe,” she said sweetly, “you can share with the rest of the class how you plan to win. Preferably without dying?”

I opened my mouth, then closed it again. No witty comeback arrived. My thoughts circled too fast to form words.

Gu Jie spoke next, her tone flat. “This is useless.”

We all turned to her.

She sat up straight, wiping the drying blood from beneath her eyes. “One thing I’ve learned about seeing the future,” she said, “is that the future is always unpredictable. The moment someone knows the future, they change their perception of it. And that change alone causes ripples and effects that weren’t part of the original vision. Soon enough, the future you saw becomes something that never happened at all.”

She was right. Just by seeing, we had altered it. Fate, it seemed, resented being observed. The mere act of looking changed the outcome. The contradiction burned itself into my chest.

And yet…

That fragile thread remained.

Alice turned slowly and looked at me.

“What’s so important about the False Earth,” she asked, her voice measured, “that you must return to it? Isn’t it enough that you’re alive? That you’ve returned here, to the Hollowed World?”

Everyone turned their eyes to me, waiting expectantly for an answer.

I pointed at the sky, the light above filtered through thin clouds and flickering formations of spiritual wind, and said, “Beyond the sun, the clouds, and those fractured flows above the firmament… There is a world called the False Earth. And there are people I cherished there, people I vowed to protect.”

Alice’s voice sliced through my moment like a whip, sharp and immediate. “And what about us?”

My hand faltered in the air. The words I wanted to say coiled behind my teeth. “You can’t make me choose, Alice…”

“That’s the problem with you, David.” Her tone was calm, but beneath it was a burn like cold iron. “You want to save everyone.”

“I surely wouldn’t fail for lack of trying,” I muttered, almost defensively.

“And you’ll still fail,” she snapped, “because you lack prioritization. Do you even care about Losten? Do you care about us?”

The words struck deeper than I expected. I felt a heavy knot twist in my chest, a pressure behind my ribs, like bile rising. I knew it wasn’t her voice in truth. It was my own guilt echoing in her tone, but the distinction didn’t ease the weight. My voice came out low. “That’s not fair.”

“Fair?” she repeated, eyes narrowing. “Was it fair when you suddenly died on us?”

It was just one time! But I couldn’t say that. I knew how it sounded. I shut up.

Gu Jie stepped forward, her tone calm but certain. “This has to happen,” she said. “There’s something in the False Earth… something important enough to determine the fate of the Hollowed World.”

”Great,” Alice scoffed, ”An intervention...”

Gu Jie looked guilty, trying to avoid Alice’s eyes.

Hei Mao leaned his weight on one leg, arms crossed loosely. “What’s the plan then?”

Gu Jie nodded to herself before gesturing toward the Megatron. “I’ve seen fragments, threads of it unfolding, even before this reunion. But now, it seems more plausible than I expected. We’ll rely on the Megatron to breach the divide and climb toward the False Earth. With Master’s power, we have a chance to succeed. But it won’t be easy. We’ll be risking our lives.”

A deliberate cough broke through the tension.

It was Nongmin.

“I hope you’re not forgetting about me,” he said dryly.

I walked to him without hesitation, pulling him into a firm, unapologetic hug. “I’m really sorry,” I said quietly. “Sorry for dragging you into this, for pulling the Empire into danger just by being associated with me.”

He returned the gesture, giving my back a solid pat. “I’d foreseen this much,” he admitted, “though I didn’t expect you to be the one who’d cause it.”

I pulled back slightly, brow creasing. “What do you mean?”

“The Empire was always in a precarious position,” Nongmin said, adjusting his collar. “Isolated. Neutral. Surrounded by greater powers kept in check by balance. At some point, one of them… or all of them… was going to make a move. It’s not your fault. It’s fate catching up.”

I hadn’t expected him to comfort me. Out of everyone, I thought Nongmin would hold the most resentment. Yet here he was, calm and resolute.

“Are you not angry?” I asked.

“Did I ever tell you about my life’s purpose?”

“I assumed it was being Emperor.”

“You know that isn’t true,” he said gently. “You saw my memories. You saw the life I led. No... In fact, you experienced them...”

I did. I remembered.

He sighed. “For a long time, I thought my purpose was to save the world from you. Then, it shifted to saving you from yourself. But eventually, it changed again… to something smaller. Something simpler. I just wanted a happy ending. To grow old. To be with those I love. To live, and be… happy.”

He glanced upward, as if searching for a future he knew wasn’t likely.

“The Heavenly Eye never allowed that. I thought its ability to loop and simulate was a feature. But maybe it was a restriction and a mechanism to keep me from dying, so I couldn’t end the loop. But now that I gave that up… I feel free.”

“You’re not dying,” I said, but my throat caught as I said it.

Nongmin just smiled.

I placed my hand on his chest and pulled forth a glowing thread from my body, my Human Soul, the one that embodied compassion, desire, and growth. With reverence, I imbued it into him through Divine Possession, letting the essence root deep into his spirit.

With my other hand raised, I declared, “Nongmin, under my divine mandate, I proclaim you Emperor not by birthright, nor title, but by destiny and by soul.”

The winds shifted slightly, carrying the words with weight even the Heavens acknowledged.

Then I turned to Alice, her expression unreadable.

“You’ve been very patient with me,” I said softly. “Thank you. Without you, I wouldn’t still be standing. I have no plans to die. I blundered hard fighting Aixin, and the Summit paid the price. Now, the burden lies on me… every mistake, every casualty. The world’s still kicking me, and I probably deserve it. But I’m sorry, Alice.”

I turned to the others, my voice steady. “I’m sorry to all of you. And thank you for sticking with me this long.”

Alice stepped forward, eyes gleaming. “Then make a promise that you’ll rely on us, that you won’t shoulder everything alone. And that we’ll never be separated again.”

Lu Gao raised a hand with a wide grin. “I might be weak compared to your greatness, Master, but I’ll gladly die for you. And if I do, you’ll just bring me back, right?”

Ren Jingyi puffed out her cheeks. “I’ll help too! I’m going to become a dragon! A real one this time!”

Hei Mao casually brushed dust from his sleeve. “As the strongest among your current disciples, of course, I’m coming.”

Then Gu Jie cleared her throat.

“Uuuh… sorry, everyone…” She winced, avoiding Hei Mao and Ren Jingyi’s stares. “But you two can’t come along. Hei Mao… Ren Jingyi… The two of you must stay…”

“What the hell?” Hei Mao’s tone dropped in disbelief.

Ren Jingyi’s eyes welled with immediate betrayal. “Big sis… are you going to abandon me?!”

I rubbed my nose, more out of reflex than thought, trying to hide the mix of pity and secondhand embarrassment washing over me. It wasn’t just that Hei Mao and Ren Jingyi were being left behind. It was the looks they were giving me, wide-eyed and betrayed, like I’d just denied them their favorite candy. No, worse. Like I’d stepped on their dreams, chewed them up, and spat them back out with a sigh.

Gu Jie’s voice, calm and cutting, broke through. “Master, explain it to them.”

I balked, stepping back as if she’d tossed me a live demonic toad. “Why me!?”

Her eyes narrowed, sharp as a blade in winter.

I cleared my throat. “Right, of course. As the responsible adult here…”

Through Gu Jie’s Divine Seeking Eyes, I learned a lot and I already knew a lot, so that was alot of alot.

Faking composure, I addressed the two with as much gravity as I could muster. “Something strange happened in the False Earth after I got expelled.... The Human Law is being enforced there… something ancient, oppressive, and incredibly specific. It rewrites the rules of who belongs and who doesn’t. And as a result…”

I turned to Hei Mao, bracing myself.

“You’ll lose your ghostly constitution, turn human, and then be devoured by your own shadow.”

Hei Mao blinked. “Wait, what?”

Gu Jie stepped in, her tone clinical. “Yes, that would definitely happen. Your essence was cultivated through ghostly methods. Without it, the Human Law will consume your shadow’s anchor. You’ll be reduced to soul shards within a week.”

Then I turned to the one soul I knew would take it harder.

“Jingyi’er…”

She looked up, still hopeful.

“You’ll lose your spark of wisdom and revert… to a goldfish.”

She stared at me, aghast. “No way…”

Gu Jie sighed softly, reaching forward to pat her head. “I’m sorry, Jingyi’er. But it’s the truth. The Human Law will identify you as a beast and forcibly correct your evolution. You won’t even remember who you were.”

Ren Jingyi teared up, her lips quivering. “I want to come along too…”

I knelt, squeezing her shoulders gently. “And I want you with us. I really do. But not if it means losing you.”

I turned to Nongmin, offering a deep nod. “We’ll be going now. Please, take care of them for me.”

He returned the gesture with a reassuring nod. “Of course.”

I looked at Hei Mao, trying not to let my own sadness seep into my voice. “Take care of Jingyi, okay?”

And then to Jingyi. “You take care of Mao.”

She pouted, crossing her arms. “This is so unfair…”

Yeah. It really was.

A thick silence lingered until, like a splash in still water, it was broken by the soft shuffling of boots and whispered words.

Phoenix Guard Xue Xin stood close to Lu Gao, the two exchanging glances like teenagers trying to sneak kisses behind a schoolhouse. Lu Gao looked flustered, like he didn’t know what to do with his hands. Xue Xin didn’t have the same problem as her hand found his, and she pulled him close with a practiced elegance. They kissed, briefly but unmistakably.

And then, as if the moment had finally caught up to them, they parted.

Lu Gao turned to us, red-faced but grinning. “Wait… no one knew?”

Dead silence.

Then, without another word, Xue Xin turned and jogged back toward Nongmin, reclaiming her place at the Emperor’s side like nothing had happened.

Hei Mao blinked, slowly raising a hand. “So, uh… when’s the wedding?”

“Let’s go,” said Gu Jie. “The False Earth awaits…”