Immortal Paladin

I could feel it in the marrow of my bones, the raw force of the Soul Recognition Realm thrumming quietly under my skin and waiting to be unleashed. But that power was no longer whole. Of the three souls I had left, only two remained at my side. I left one with Gu Jie for safekeeping, serving as an anchor. The other, my strongest soul, I had just reclaimed from Yuen Fu. Whether that sudden absence would weaken him… I could only hope that he had grown enough to endure the gap without faltering. I didn’t have the luxury to lend him my power right now after Jue Bu devoured one of my souls.

We stood atop a floating platform Gu Jie constructed in the span she had regrouped with the Guardians. Clouds drifted around us like gauze, parting in thin layers to reveal the city below, filled with bustling activity. It was hard to imagine that such fragile normalcy existed when war clung to our every breath.

Now, as for the platform? It wasn’t just a monument to our defiance; it was my checkmate in motion. I couldn’t keep defending against the Game Master’s moves forever. Eventually, someone had to strike the General piece. That someone had to be me.

The Guardians assembled before me, quiet but attentive. I scanned their faces and felt time collapse. These were not strangers. These were names etched into my bones.

“My Guardians,” I said, “it’s been a long time.”

They stood in rows, some armored, some still wearing makeshift cloaks and tattered robes from the long march. Each face, each name, was matched with a memory.

“Mao Lin. Liao Chin. Zeng Wuying. Long Zan. Meng Meng. Dai Ha. Qiao Xia. Fu Guo. Yang Zexian. Yao Luoyang. Qian Chun,” I said. Each name was a weight, and each syllable dug into my chest like a nail as I stared at the few corpses before me. “These are the souls we lost recently. And I refuse to let them go.”

Ding Shan lowered his head. “We honor them for their sacrifice.”

“We honor,” the Guardians echoed.

Their voices weren’t loud. They didn’t need to be. In the silence that followed, I turned toward the rows of cadavers laid out. Some bodies were crushed beyond recognition, others still bore the symbols of our cause branded onto torn flesh. Broken skulls. Shredded organs. Missing limbs. These soldiers had given everything, and even now their blood cried out for more.

I placed my hand over my chest and breathed slowly. The destiny within their dead husks stirred, shivering against the still air, waiting for a call only I could give. Gu Jie had done all she could, preparing the bodies and minimizing the load on my spirit. Still, the cost would be high. Quintessence could only stretch so far. But I had one tool left.

I activated Exalted Renewal, just for a microsecond. Any longer and it would bleed experience from my foundation, unraveling hours, days, even thousands of years of my cultivation. But in that fleeting sliver of time, the technique surged through my soul, multiplying my attributes and clearing the path for the one act that truly mattered.

Qi thickened like a thundercloud. The atmosphere coiled around my words as I uttered them, not from the throat, but from the soul.

“Divine Word: Raise.”

The air cracked. Light spiraled upward. And the dead responded.

Flesh mended. Bone fused. Skin healed where there was once only blood and ruin. One by one, the Guardians we lost stood once more, confused but whole, their eyes blinking against the brilliance of renewed life. My breath hitched as I shut down Exalted Renewal, feeling my heart stutter against the weight of what I had just done.

But I had succeeded.

I  raised my voice, letting it carry through the thinning clouds and past the resurrected ranks. My vision sharpened on them, on what we must face, on what must come.

“The battle ahead will not be easy. You’ve heard those words before, I know. But this time, I mean it in the cruelest way possible. We fight the Game Master’s General piece. We strike the heart of a scheme that’s twisted countless lives and eaten entire truths.”

I let my gaze sweep over each warrior, living or newly revived.

“If you die, there’s no guarantee I can bring you back. This miracle was not infinite. It was the price of every breath I’ve borrowed and every future I’ve sold.”

I paused, then added, not as their commander but as the one who asked too much of them time and again:

“But I promise you this, I will watch over you. I will carry every name, even if the heavens forget. Not one soul here will vanish into nothing.”

There was a solemn silence.

The Guardians stood quietly, breaths held like prayers. I raised my hand, and from the center of my palm, I cast...

”Holy Sword.”

A force without mass or matter stirred… shimmering, yet invisible at first. It gathered around my skin like warm light, then warped the air before it. Normally, this was where the soul would bloom into an extravagant weapon, wreathed in flame, gold, or celestial fire. But not this time. Not today. Today, what emerged was plain. The sword that formed from my soul was not a gleaming relic nor a heavenly artifact. It took the shape of something far simpler: a longsword of dull silver-gray, with a flat blade and utilitarian guard. Its edges bore neither embellishment, nor sigils, nor ostentation.

It reminded me of Silver Steel.

I lowered the blade and gently tapped it against the platform. The dull chime rang with gravity.

“This is a time of strife,” I said.

I thumped the sword a second time.

“A time where the world as you know it stands on the precipice of destruction and creation.”

Every inch of my preparation led to this moment. I had revised what I knew of cultivation, rewritten my understanding of spirit, reconciled Paladin lore with xianxia truth, and from that synthesis… birthed my own Immortal Art.

I lifted my voice.

“Brothers and Sisters of the Faith. Guardians of the Realm. Heirs to my Sacred Oath… stand tall, for this is the day of your rebirth.”

I thumped my fist against my chest, letting the sound echo.

“Today, we do not merely honor strength in arms, nor celebrate victories past. Today, we gather to witness a solemn vow, a transformation of soul and purpose. You who once fought as warriors shall rise now as Paladins… anointed not only by steel, but by the sacred weight of duty.”

Another thump on the chest.

“You have endured trials that would break lesser warriors. You have borne pain, tasted blood, and shouldered burdens no song could ever truly capture. But valor alone does not make a Paladin.”

I let that linger. Then:

“No… what makes a Paladin is the will to protect not only lives, but the light within them. It is the strength to fight when hope is lost, to kneel in mercy when wrath demands otherwise, and to bind your blade to justice, and not vengeance.”

I closed my fist, fingers curling around something invisible, an oath not yet spoken.

“Today, in the presence of the Divine and the law of this sacred order, I ask you.”

And then my body began to glow.

It started from the heart, spreading outward in golden lines, until my entire being shimmered with quiet brilliance. It wasn’t the blinding kind that demanded attention. Instead, it was the type that warmed, that steadied, that made the world feel just a little less cruel. It was the power of ’understanding’ catalyzed by the many times I’ve cast Divine Possession again and again.

“Will you wield your sword not as a weapon of war, but as an extension of your oath?”

They answered without hesitation.

“I will.”

“Will you place the innocent before your pride, the weak before your glory, and truth before all?”

“I will.”

“Will you walk the long road, even when it breaks you, even when no one bears witness, even when all around you fall?”

“I will.”

I raised the sword and declared, “Then, by the light of our forebears, by the authority bestowed upon me, and by the oath written now upon your soul, I name you… Paladin. Let your armor shine not from polish, but from purpose. Let your name echo not in fear, but in faith.”

I took a steady breath, filled with the enormity of what I was doing.

“Kneel.”

And one by one, the Guardians knelt.

The glow extended from me to them, flowing like a golden current, binding us all in one living weave of purpose. I stepped forward and moved through their ranks, laying my soul-forged blade gently on each shoulder. To each, I offered only a single word of affirmation, but behind each word was everything I knew of them… past, present, and possible future.

“Be true.”

“Be strong.”

“Be brave.”

“Be wise.”

“Be free.”

“Be brave.”

“Be free.”

“Be true.”

“Be more.”

“Be steady.”

With the faith that connected us, I didn’t need a script. The words simply arrived. Each one exactly what they needed. When I returned to the front, I faced them all again, each one now suffused with the glow of acceptance, their aura stabilized and elevated.

“Rise now,” I said, “not as mere warriors, but as protectors of the realm, of the people, and of the light that no darkness shall overcome.”

One by one, they stood.

“Rise. As. Paladins.”

“We honor!” the Guardians roared in unison.

At last, I called forth the full might of my Immortal Art: Divine Appointment of the Faithful.

A radiant pillar of light exploded upward from the platform, carving through cloud and sky. Every Guardian’s soul ignited with a sigil unique to them, inscribed not on flesh, but on fate. Their spiritual foundations adjusted, elevated, and purified. Their paths altered forever.

The world trembled.

And just like that, I had done it.

I had created the xianxia equivalent of Paladins.

I could feel the raw, pulsing current of quintessence coursing through me, not from my own wellspring, but from them. Every Guardian’s soul fed into mine like tributaries into a river, empowering and steadying me. This wasn’t simple cultivation amplification. It was something deeper, something older… an empathic connection that mirrored the strange clarity I once felt during Divine Possession. I understood them completely. Their fears, their hopes, their intent. And they, in turn, understood me. No words were necessary for what passed between us.

But I gave them one anyway.

“It’s time,” I said, not aloud, but with my soul.

Gu Jie from the Sealed Island affirmed without hesitation. “Understood. I will inform Mistress Alice.”

The platform beneath us remained still, humming faintly with destiny-imbued stealth. As long as we stayed within its bounds, we were veiled from perception, even from the all-seeing eyes of the Game Master upon Sealed Island. But once we moved beyond this invisible shield, the cloak would fall. And so would we.

Thunder rolled across the heavens.

The sky dimmed gradually, like the lights of a grand stage being lowered before the final act. Then came the rain, sharp and cold, heavy with divine pressure. Flashes of lightning cracked open the clouds like gaping wounds.

Alice’s Weather Control spell had activated.

More than mere atmosphere, it was an Ultimate Skill capable of masking even higher realms of spiritual perception. I shouted, “Brace yourselves!”

With a stomp, I shattered the platform.

It crumbled beneath us with a groan, releasing us from its veil and dropping us through the clouds like stars in freefall. The rain battered against our faces. The wind screamed. The descent was violent, but we were ready. Below us stood a palace that seemed drawn from contradiction. Sprawling in size, yet simple in design. Towering walls of black jade framed by silver banners. I spread my Divine Sense… Hmmm… That’s strange… There were no guards and no outer defenses.

We smashed through the roof tiles in a controlled descent, crashing directly into the throne room with precision.

The room itself was cavernous, but barren. No gold, no tapestries, and certainly no throne of grandeur. Just a single high-backed throne made of polished stone and lined with age-old silk. Upon it slouched a lone figure.

He wore crinkled robes, loose and dust-worn. A ceremonial high hat slouched crookedly on his head. His skin was a ghostly pale, veins faintly visible beneath the thin flesh. His legs were drawn up onto the armrest like a child curling into themselves, and dark bags hung beneath his eyes as if sleep had long betrayed him.

His eyes met mine, not with awe, nor fear. Just a sluggish sort of curiosity and boredom. What unsettled me most wasn’t the aura of this man, but the lack of it. There was neither divine pressure, nor a swelling presence. Just a quiet, grounded mortality. And yet… I knew. I wasn’t mistaken. This was the ‘General’ piece I was looking for.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” he said, his voice dry and soft. “Greetings. I… am the Enlightened Scholar. Let’s talk.”

So this was it. The Game Master’s General piece. The true source of his confidence wasn’t some arrogant overextension. It was because this man had once been an Ancient Soul.

I leveled my sword at him, speaking with certainty. “That’s awfully kind of you. But no… I think it’s better we don’t get to know each other.”

My War Aura flared around me in a rippling blaze of light and spiritual heat. Behind me, every Guardian followed suit, igniting their own Auras as one. The throne room shifted under the pressure of our collective might. Within my proximity, the Paladins could access my general skills, our auras interlinked and elevated far beyond their base states.

Still seated, the Enlightened Scholar didn’t flinch.

He spoke calmly, “I am no Seer, and I am certainly no Heavenly Demon. I have neither their supernatural foresight nor their heavenly might. However, I can confidently say… I am always one step ahead of anyone and everyone.”

I have a bad feeling about this.

He looked at me with a faint smirk. “At this point, you should be attacking me. Instead, you choose to listen. That too was within my calculation. Or perhaps it’s a coincidence. Curiosity? Arrogance? A simple desire to savor the moment before you strike? The reason may vary. But the result remains… You chose to listen.”

Fuck... We have a pretentious prick on our hands.

He tilted his head. “You may think I’m stalling. You may even want to interrupt me now. But let me assure you, this little monologue has no trap. I only desired one thing.”

I narrowed my eyes. “And what’s that?”

The Enlightened Scholar folded his hands together. “To know you.”

He spoke plainly. “In the time it took to greet you, I studied your garments, your posture, your choice of companions, and the aura you emit. I measured the air around you and observed the frequency of how your Guardians react to your presence. And from this small window of interaction, I’ve already learned the most crucial fact.”

He gave a faint, melancholic smile.

“That my defeat here is inevitable.”

This guy… was kind of weird. If this was him posturing, it was certainly a breath of fresh air. However, the way he simply acknowledged the truth like a scholar penning the final line of a thesis was rubbing me the wrong way.

“I will lose. And yet… I will still remain one step ahead. Even the Game Master.”

He adjusted his high hat slightly. “You see, part of the reason I joined hands with the Game Master was to gain a foothold, a claim to my own small slice of paradise. I played the part of a lesser piece, offering him my epithet. I let him rule as he pleased while I gathered fragments of influence in his shadow.”

Huh? He must be referring to the time the ‘Game Master’ was referring to himself as the ‘Enlightened Scholar’.

His gaze sharpened slightly.

“And now, with you standing before me, I see the conclusion. I see it clearly. So I’ve enacted my final contingency.”

I raised a brow. “…Which is?”

“I want to help you defeat the Game Master.”

I blinked and found something burning at my heart. It was... my Divine Spark, promising the possibility of recovering my Paladinhood of all things. The silence that followed wasn’t heavy. It was just… unexpected. I held my sword steady, but my grip softened. Part of me waited for deception. Another part sensed no falsehood in him. There was no malicious cunning. Only inevitability, wrapped in resignation.

I exhaled slowly, letting the tension bleed from my limbs.

“…Fine,” I said. I lowered my sword, just a little. “Let’s talk.”

According to my Divine Sense, the Enlightened Scholar had spoken nothing but the truth. His words, strange as they were, rippled cleanly through the flow of spiritual causality. No deception. No hidden qi signatures. No planted illusions or memory fog. Just… plain honesty. And that, somehow, disturbed me more than a trap ever could.

I narrowed my gaze and gave a single command. “Perimeter.”

Ding Shan immediately responded, “You heard the man, disperse!”

The Guardians moved like trained steel, spreading out across the edges of the throne room. They didn’t need further explanation. Each of them kept their War Aura active, forming a perfect circular defense. From my Storage Ring, I took out a plain, worn wooden chair. I placed it down in front of the throne. I sat down, straight-backed, with dignity, eyes leveled at his.

“Talk.”

The Enlightened Scholar didn’t flinch. His voice was calm, almost tired.

“I have many contingencies in place,” he began, “though their chances of success vary wildly. Some are bound by unstable conditions. Others are mysteries even to myself. But one thing remains consistent: the Game Master’s plan remains forever untouched, and that makes my contingencies possible… As a result, everything the Game Master has orchestrated so far is proceeding smoothly.”

He shifted slightly on his throne, pulling his legs down from the armrest with a slow, deliberate motion.

“I knew, inevitably, the Game Master would betray me. He sees allies as temporary tools, not investments. But I anticipated this and designed failsafes to restrict his hand. In the event the current parameters evolve… radically, it would mean a new variable has entered the equation. That variable, of course… is you.”

He raised one pale finger and pointed it gently toward me.

“At this moment, you are a problem I must solve for the sake of my survival, and more importantly… the realization of my peace.”

I didn’t say anything for a moment.

I hated enemies like this: smart, composed, and eloquent. The kind who never panicked when you kicked in their door. The kind who didn’t beg, didn’t bark, didn’t throw tantrums or traps. Just… talked.

The Enlightened Scholar nodded slightly, as if reading my frustration. “Patience is a virtue,” he said. “Bear with me.”

I let out a slow exhale. “Go on.”

“I’m sure you’re wondering about this body,” he continued. “Whether I’m a clone. A puppet. An innocent man caught in another’s scheme. But worry not. This is no trick. No borrowed soul. No switcheroo. I am exactly what you see… mortal, yet real. Since time is precious, I’ll spare you the dramatics.”

And then something clicked. A vision, not mine, but one that belonged to Gu Jie, surfaced in my mind. A memory I’d seen through her eyes back in the Hollowed World. That, paired with the Scholar’s words now… It wasn’t a coincidence.

This ‘talk’ was meant to happen.

”You are... going to help me...”

The Scholar adjusted his posture, placing one hand under his chin. “Everything that has happened so far is premeditated. There is no such thing as coincidence or fate. Your ‘victory’ is both assured… and desired. You must be wondering how I could arrive at such conclusions.”

He lifted his gaze slightly, voice steady.

“It is the result of my Immortal Art.”

Ordinarily, that would’ve been the moment I shut him down. I’ve heard enough of that kind of arrogant drivel. But again, my Divine Sense told me otherwise. There was no lie. Not even a half-truth.  Just a man telling me the truth. Ugh... I was waiting for him to drop the act or show a lie, but he was clearly sticking to his story. An ally this far off the game? It was unbelievable.

And yet, at the edge of my thoughts, something stirred.

A dangerous realization, coiled and hidden just beneath the surface of my consciousness, its fangs brushing against the soft part of my mind. I could feel it… waiting. As though something terrible was about to click into place.

The Enlightened Scholar continued, “The defeat of the being you perceive as the ‘Game Master’… will also be your defeat.”

He let that sentence linger like poison in the air.

“This ‘game’—the one you’ve been trying to win—is not important because of the players. It’s important because of the pieces that are devoured. This is a game where all the players, no matter how strong, how righteous, how prepared… can only lose. There is only one way for you to win. Devour the Game Master, until nothing was left of him.”

He looked around, not to my Guardians, but to the crumbling palace, the cracked ceiling above.

“Recent evidence suggests that this is the last game. The final iteration. One that has repeated across countless cycles. If he wins, consider the Hollowed World forfeit, and so is the rest of creation for the Void only knows destruction.”

I shuddered, fearing the world to suddenly black out at the mention of the Void, but... There was nothing. I sighed in relief.

Truth bombs, riddled in riddles. I’d seen it all before. I’d felt it. This wasn’t new. The same thing was happening in the Hollowed World for a long time already… In fact, everything he said had already echoed in the fragments I’d seen through Jue Bu’s memories in his time in the Hollowed World, just in a different context. Except…

Except for the part where the Game Master’s defeat meant mine too.

That sounded like nonsense. A sleight-of-mouth tactic to delay his execution. But again, my Divine Sense tugged at me like a screaming prophet. He wasn’t lying.

The Scholar’s voice grew gentler now, almost respectful. “I told you I would convince you I am not your enemy. And to do that, I only need to ask you one question.”

I stared at him.

“…What is it?”

He paused, just for a second. Then:

“Are you aware,” he asked, “that you are a vessel for the Supreme Void?”

My breath caught.

Something within me recoiled.

Before I could process the meaning of that name, the entire palace shook. A thunderous quake rocked the throne room as deep cracks split open the jade-tiled floor. From the fractures, lava spewed in jagged fountains of burning red, steam, and sulfur rising in gouts.

The heavens screamed above, and from the deepest place in my soul, a cold chill bloomed.

Everything… every path I’d taken, every encounter I thought was mine to make… had been premeditated. The idea once sounded paranoid, delusional even. But now, it rang too true to dismiss. My transmigration hadn’t been an act of whimsical fate, but a scheme born from cosmic precision. The eldritch existence that brought me into this world didn’t operate on luck. It had plans. My fated meeting with Gu Jie, who bore the Destiny-Seeking Eyes… That hadn’t been the result of my choices. Jue Bu’s entrapment within my soul hadn’t been some clever twist of mine. The Supreme Void had wanted me here all along.

Even my death, the explosion of my PC, was no mere accident. It was simply the first domino in a game I hadn’t even known I was playing.

“No,” I finally said.

The Enlightened Scholar gave me that tired, insufferable gaze again, like a bored schoolteacher waiting for a child to arrive at the answer. “Did I finally convince you that I am not the enemy?”

I didn’t indulge him. “What do you want?”

His smile wasn’t smug. It was weary. “I want you to hear my advice… This is a fact: you cannot win. But there is a way for you not to lose.”

It sounded too familiar. I was forced to do the same in my fight against Aixin.

“Kill yourself,” the Enlightened Scholar said calmly. ”Before the ’dream’ consumes you, kill yourself.”

The words didn’t even make me flinch. Instead, I stood up, letting the chair clatter behind me. I paced, thoughts racing at speeds no mortal mind could handle. My body didn’t betray me, but my spirit trembled.

That couldn’t be it. That wasn’t how it ended in the vision.

I raised my sword and placed the flat edge against his neck. A subtle pressure. Not enough to sever, but enough to threaten. “Nice try,” I said coldly. “But you’re still my enemy.”

Strangely, my instincts didn’t urge me to finish him. If anything, they compelled me not to. He hadn’t lied, not once.

A bead of blood rolled down his pale throat. He didn’t even blink.

“There is another way,” he said.

I pressed the blade harder.

“Leave.”

My grip faltered, just slightly. “I can’t do that.”

“Of course you can,” he replied, his tone infuriatingly patient. “You arrived here as a player. You can use the same method to depart.”

Castling could allow me to switch places with one of my souls in the Hollowed World, and I’d be free. He wasn’t wrong. The spell would work. But it would also forsake the soul I left behind to anchor me. Not to mention, Alice, Gu Jie, Lu Gao, and the rest of the people I cherished. That wasn’t an option I could live with.

I narrowed my eyes. “How do you know I’m a player?”

“Because I’ve been there,” he said. “I was a player, too. Not one of those who lost their game. I survived. I clawed my way out and somehow survived. I am different, as you can see. For... I. AM. MORE.”

He was. I believed that much. But he was also maddening.

Before I could press him further, he did something I didn’t expect.

He reached up, grabbed the blade with both hands, and dragged it across his throat.

Blood gushed like a geyser, coating the floor in thick scarlet. He choked on it, gurgling and shaking as he crumpled forward on his throne. But even through the frothing red, he managed to speak.

“Tick-tock…” he sputtered. “Your t-time is running out… W-with my death, you’re now… f-forced under a timer…”

He smiled, even as death claimed him. “Now… choose…”

Then, he stilled.

I stared at him, sword still in hand, and confusion knotted in my chest. He said he wanted to help me defeat the Game Master. And now he was dead. Slain not by my hand, but by his own.

Why?

Why go through all that just to die?

What had I just triggered?

And what did he mean by timer?

”Divine Word: Raise.”

I tried to resurrect him back to life, but it failed.

This was an elaborate trick.

I knew it even before the blood dried off the Scholar’s throat. But I was still shaken. The Enlightened Scholar hadn’t lied, not once. His every word, every caution, and every veiled threat had been perfectly true. Still, it was a performance. A fragment of a larger design. Something greater than the two of us.

I didn’t have the luxury to dissect his motives.

“Lord Wei! Lord Wei!”

Fu Wu’s voice cracked through the smoke. His robes were half-burnt, and his hair stuck out like he had been electrocuted, which, considering our luck, wasn’t far-fetched.

He skidded to a halt in front of me, panting. “The whole palace is rigged with a formation explosion connected to a dragon vein, filled with large deposits of spirit stones!”

I blinked. “Say that again?”

Fu Wu’s face was pale, his panic unusually honest. “It’s the same technique you used on the Yama King! Only this one… this one’s got the entire tectonic plate as the formation array and fuel source!”

I felt my stomach drop.

I didn’t need to guess if it was true. My Divine Sense caught the pattern too hidden even from my senses: the flow of spiritual energy humming through the foundation like blood through veins, pooling at key meridian points in the ground, all directed at the dragon vein like a sacrificial altar.

The formation was activated.

A heartbeat later, the entire palace exploded.

White-hot light engulfed the world, followed by the vacuum force of heaven itself being torn apart. Reality twisted inwards. Every corner of the city lit up with symbols I recognized far too well… glyphs of binding, of transmutation, of annihilation.

I saw them.

The civilians. Their souls were being ripped out of their bodies, fed into the formation, burned like incense in a god’s brazier. Their death cries mixed into the spiritual frequencies, magnifying the output, creating a region-wide blood-fueled ignition. I was helpless to stop it.

I screamed, “Shield of the Eternal!”

The golden light burst from me just as the shockwave struck. My Paladins echoed my spell in practiced unity, throwing healing after healing upon each other while debris shredded through the light barriers. The explosions didn’t stop. The palace vanished. The city crumbled. Only raw willpower and divine blessings kept us alive through it. I crawled from the rubble, coughing dust and tasting blood.

And then they appeared.

Teleportation circles flared across the wasteland that used to be the city. One, two, ten… then hundreds. Soldiers surged from each one in organized waves. I felt the space above us distort. Someone was expending quintessence to hold open the channels, like pouring divine oil onto a battlefield.

I rose to my feet, staggering. “Finally,” I muttered. “I get to bash heads.”

Li Feng steadied himself beside me, scanning the horizon. “How many, do you think?”

Su Ai leapt to the broken crown of a statue, eyes narrowing. “Hundreds of thousands… I can’t read their cultivation from this distance.” She turned to Li Feng. “What about their martial discipline?”

“First-rate, judging by their fighting spirit,” he answered immediately. “Elite troops. They’re here to finish the job.”

The smoke began to clear. Alice’s Weather Control fizzled out as the air currents settled into a supernatural stillness.

“Odds?” I asked.

Ding Shan adjusted his shoulder plate. “Fifty-fifty. Maybe sixty-forty, if we play our advantages right.”

I raised a brow. That was unexpectedly optimistic.

And then a man emerged from the haze.

One man.

He walked calmly, slowly, as if he had all the time in the world. A black-and-gold cloak billowed behind him, untouched by the charred wind. His features were young, noble, with a cruel sharpness to his mouth. His steps carried the weight of divine confidence.

We gathered, the Guardians forming a ring behind me. I took the front.

The man stopped a few hundred meters away and shouted, voice clear and resonant.

“I am the General of the Heavenly Alliance, the Heaven’s Chosen Son, Han Yu!”

He unsheathed a greatsword from his back, the motion loud enough to sing through the air. “Aggressors from the Sacred Groves, you shall perish under my blade for decimating the City of Azure—”

“Really!?” I shouted back. “You gonna throw that on me!? And you call yourself ’General’ as if it were some clever wordplay? Fuck you! Fuck your mom! Fuck your ancestors!”

Han Yu ignored me. “As the Supreme Void’s disciple, I declare your life forfeit!”

My stomach twisted. The Supreme Void. The same entity that orchestrated my transmigration. The same one that watched me, twisted fate around me, buried my free will under layers of ‘coincidences.’ Why now? Why so openly? Dark clouds rolled in overhead, but it wasn’t Alice’s doing. I could feel the difference immediately.

Han Yu’s voice lowered. “My master has a message for you…”

I stayed quiet.

“If you don’t agree to become my vessel, your twin sister will have to do. And if that fails, then her son. Make your choice, Immortal Paladin.”

So that was it.

They weren’t offering salvation. They were making a demand. I brandished my sword. Not because I planned to fight right this second. But because I needed to remind myself that I still had a choice. I took a breath, recalling a memory. A vision. A moment when ‘He’ looked me in the eye and whispered the same words I now spoke:

“Tell your master… my pieces are in place. The board is set.”

Han Yu didn’t react.

I smiled bitterly, raising my voice. “I learned what it means to believe in a miracle. It’s terrifying. It fills me with despair. But the mere possibility… the potential of it… brings me infinite hope.”

I gripped my blade tighter.

“That’s why I’ve decided… I won’t die.”

It wasn’t my usual realism. Not the cold acceptance of loss, not the clinical awareness of inevitability. This was something else. A madman’s belief in hope.

But it was mine.

And that made it real.