Immortal Paladin

[POV: Alice]

The bat in her mind’s eye vanished into the darkness, its wings silent as dust as it embraced the shadows. Alice let out a quiet breath. That little creature was no mere animal… Instead, it was her familiar, refined with her curses and her magic.

If the enemy drew close, she would know. That much was certain. The curse bound into the bat’s blood and marrow should persist for some time, a living warning bell against subterfuge and assassination.

The thought made her lips press thin.

The enemy thrived in avatars and proxies, in shadows and whispers. Alice shuddered inwardly to imagine how many times they had been near without anyone realizing it. How many times had Da Wei stood a breath away from annihilation, only to be spared by chance?

‘If our strategy is so exposed to them, then what are we even doing?’

Probably, it was just paranoia. But Alice couldn’t help but worry.

She clenched her hand, nails digging into her palm. Their efforts in the Empire, supporting the Great Guard’s rebellion, shaping the tides of civil war, and shielding their forces… All of it was for nothing if their opponent could slip past unseen.

It had been simpler before, she mused. Back when Da Wei was a secret, an Immortal hidden in New Willow, protected by anonymity and obscurity. He was untouchable then. But now? Now he was loud, reckless, unyielding, and charging into the open like a mad beast. Alice had no choice but to move more actively and more ruthlessly to shield him.

Because the man had no sense of self-preservation.

In the short span since arriving in this world, with the boon of immortality from Losten lost to him, Da Wei had skirted closer to utter annihilation more than anyone she had ever known.

Her thoughts were cut by Jue Bu’s voice.

“If you don’t mind,” he said, brushing dust from his sleeve, “there’s something I wish to ask.”

Alice tilted her head slightly. “Go on.”

He leaned on his sword, his grin returning, though his eyes remained sharp. “Enlighten me. How did you know I’d be effective bait… and that someone would actually snap at it? I know I share Da Wei’s visage, but surely that alone isn’t enough to stir the enemy.”

Alice allowed herself a faint smile. He had the wit to ask the right question.

“The Night Blades and the Shadow Clan,” she said, “are quite mediocre when judged by the standards I knew in Losten. But together?” She shook her head, admiration begrudging her tone. “Together, they are formidable. Their intelligence networks may lack refinement, but their persistence is unmatched. Without them, I would never have zeroed in on the cult worshiping David, twisting his image. Without them, this ambush would not have been certain.”

Her gaze darkened as she added, “The cult would have remained unseen, festering like rot beneath the skin. With a little manipulation of secret messages and forged documents, we managed to lure them in. You, Jue Bu, were the scalpel to draw them out in the open. Be proud, you have been useful.”

“Anything else?” she asked, her voice returning to a cool, businesslike cadence.

Jue Bu chuckled. “Yes. What’s next?”

Alice turned her eyes toward the horizon, where sand dunes shimmered under the merciless sun. “You will continue to the Promised Dunes,” she said evenly. “There, you will protect Liu Yana. And until the time is right… You will lie low.”

“What’s so important with this Liu Yana person anyway?” asked Jue Bu, waving a hand dismissively. “I mean, I don’t mind going to the Promised Dunes, because the women there are just—”

Alice’s glare cut into him like a knife.

He coughed into his fist, trying to play it off. “Ahem… I mean to say, I just don’t find the significance in it. Why her?”

Alice folded her arms, her pink hair glowing faintly under the desert light. Her voice was cold but steady, carrying weight. “Because one of David’s Six Souls lies there. And I would feel far more comfortable knowing someone of your… unusual power is guarding it. The enemy is clever, Jue Bu. If they cannot strike David directly, they will find a way to corrupt him through his souls.”

Jue Bu straightened at that, the mirth slipping from his face.

Alice continued, her tone grave.

“We’ve been fortunate with Nongmin. He protected the Human Soul without even realizing it… His paranoia and instinct for self-preservation served as its shield against the traitors’ design. The Animal Soul rests with Tao Long, beside David’s Holy Spirit. The Ghost Soul is secure within New Willow. As for the Asura Soul and Human Soul, they remain with us.”

She hesitated, her lips tightening. “I still worry for the Hell Soul. But David himself has gone to handle that matter… that leaves only the Heaven Soul. And it is utterly exposed.”

“The Promised Dunes,” Alice went on, “are weak. Their nation survives on scraps of trade and sheer stubbornness, their only redeeming feature being their medicine. But the Heaven Soul lies there, bound to this Liu Yana, who holds David in great regard. And with her knowledge in medicine and their cultivation techniques of body and spirit, she may even help you recover. After all…”

Her eyes flickered briefly toward Jue Bu’s chest, where the wound had been. “You are injured, are you not?” And she didn’t merely mean the injury Jue Bu suffered from the shadow.

Jue Bu grimaced. His hand subconsciously drifted to his ribs, fingers brushing where the scar lay hidden beneath layers of qi suppression. He could still feel the bite of the Supreme Void’s strike, a wound deeper than flesh, lingering within marrow and soul.

He probably hated being reminded of it. Hated feeling weak.

“I get it,” he muttered, his usual bravado cracking just slightly. “You don’t have to hammer it in, lady.”

Alice’s expression softened, but only just. With a wave of her hand, a small vessel appeared behind her, hovering inches above the sand. It was sleek, smaller than the one Jue Bu had lost, more akin to a skiff than a true ship, crafted for speed and one traveler alone.

“You’ll need this,” she said. “It’s not much, but it will carry you across the desert unseen. Use it wisely.”

Jue Bu smirked faintly despite the ache gnawing at his insides. “Hah. A toy for a wandering bard… not bad.”

But when he looked at Alice, there was no jest in his eyes. Only the weight of understanding.

He knew what was at stake now.

“Try not to miss me too much, Mistress Alice,” said Jue Bu with that insufferable grin. “If I don’t come back, remember me fondly when you cry yourself to sleep.”

Alice only gave him a flat look. “If you die, I’ll find your ashes and bind them into a chamber pot.”

Jue Bu laughed, loud and shameless, before flicking the skiff into the air. The vessel hummed softly, then streaked toward the horizon, vanishing in a shimmer of warp-light.

When the last echo of the skiff faded, Alice’s lips tightened. She staggered, clutching her stomach. A violent cough ripped through her, and with it came the stench of rot. She doubled over the sand, retching streams of black blood that hissed when they hit the ground.

Her eyes narrowed toward her shadow, which wavered unnaturally against the sunlight.

“It wasn’t truly my victory, was it?” she whispered hoarsely. “You cursed me, too…”

The corruption writhed beneath her skin, threads of alien malice clinging to her bones and qi veins. She drew a deep, steadying breath. “No matter. I’ve handled worse.” With effort, she summoned her spell, Curse Reversal. Strange glyphs shimmered faintly along her arms as she began the painstaking work of unraveling the malignant brand.

For a fleeting moment, she considered leaning on Da Wei’s holy spells. His divine light could purify nearly anything… but not her. Her own affinity with curses and her vampire lineage made her resistant, even hostile, to that purity. His radiance would burn her essence more than the corruption itself, even if his spells did have a positive effect on her. Still, there was only so much she could take.

“This is mine to undo. And I must do it quickly. When the final battle for the Empire’s sovereignty comes, I cannot afford weakness.”

Her hand trembled as she reached into her robes, pulling forth a fragment of condensed radiance, the Manasoul. It glowed softly in her palm, yet its hum was immense. It was this very soul Da Wei had refined and lent her to break through the barrier of the Empire, the same power that had allowed her to pierce dimensions and reach Jue Bu in time.

Such a tiny thing, barely the size of a pearl, yet within it lay force enough to bend the laws of distance.

She whispered an incantation. The air quivered. The sands warped. And then reality folded around her like silk.

It cost her dearly. Her veins burned as though liquid fire ran through them, her mana and qi reserves bleeding dry. A return trip always demanded more than the first; pulling herself back through the folds of space was like tearing her essence in half and sewing it together again.

When she came to, the desert was gone. Night embraced her, cool and starlit, the scent of cedarwood drifting faintly on the breeze. She stood on a balcony of a hidden manor, its walls veined with defensive wards.

There, leaning against the railing, was Da Wei. His back was to her, his shoulders relaxed, his gaze fixed upon the sea of stars above.

Without turning, he spoke. His tone was light, yet underneath it carried a weight only she could hear.

“Oh, you are back,” Da Wei said softly. “How did it go?”

“Staring at stars again?” Alice’s voice carried softly across the balcony. Her tone was casual, but there was a sharpness underneath, like a blade hidden in silk.

Da Wei… or David, as she always named him in the privacy of her mind… didn’t turn. His eyes remained fixed on the heavens as though something far beyond them tugged at his thoughts.

“You do know what’s beyond that, correct?”

“I can still pretend, you know?” His answer was wry, yet tinged with a weariness that no cultivation or immortal art could ever mask.

Alice tilted her head, studying his back. ‘Pretend? Pretend what? That there is no burden on his shoulders? That he isn’t the fulcrum upon which two worlds tilt?’

“Do you miss home?” she asked.

David’s lips twitched in something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Not really… I am worried for Losten.” His words dropped like stones in her chest. “That’s the reason you and Joan looked for me, right? Bring me back home? Make me join the fight?”

He chuckled, hollow and brittle. “Now, it’s been what… thirty years? So much could have happened back in Losten. They didn’t have the game mechanics to rely on—er… I mean the blessings of the Lost Gods and the Lost Supreme. Without that… they are going to lose.”

Alice’s hands clenched against the railing. “It was Joan’s wish and desire for you to join the fight, but not mine. You know why I am here. That’s to cure my vampirism and—”

She never managed to finish.

“Sorry,” David cut in quickly. His voice lowered, almost guilty. “I didn’t mean to.”

Her breath caught. Her mind drifted back to the desert, to the moment when their hearts had throbbed together in unison, when she had felt alive for the first time in centuries. That rhythm had been intoxicating. For one who had long ago lost pleasure in life, it had been a forbidden euphoria, proof that she wasn’t just a monster clinging to the husk of existence.

“I am sorry,” David continued quietly. “But I don’t think I can answer your feelings, not right now…”

Alice’s throat tightened. Of course, he knew. How could he not? She wasn’t sure what it was herself. Longing? Lust? A strange hunger masquerading as love? Whatever it was, when sated, it had left her trembling. Her bosom ached with emotions foreign to her undead heart.

She forced her tone into something cold. “Don’t get too ahead of yourself. Your quest, your bargain with me… that is the only important thing—”

Again, she never managed to finish.

David turned at last. His face was lit by the silver gleam of starlight, but it was his smile, mischievous, sharp-edged, that held her breath hostage.

“If I ever walked the wrong path,” he asked softly, “you wouldn’t hesitate to correct me, right?”

Alice blinked, startled. Then her lips curved into a bitter smile. “Your path is not for me to decide.”

Sadness flickered across his features, dimming the glint in his eyes. He turned away, his shoulders stiffening as though he carried more than even he could endure.

Alice stood on the balcony, her fingers curled tight against the stone rail. Her mind turned, debating. ‘Should I tell him? Will he even listen this time, or will my words wash over him like the last?’ David was stubborn, always drowning himself in burdens he refused to name. Yet his earlier request echoed in her thoughts…

“If I ever walked the wrong path, you wouldn’t hesitate to correct me, right?”

In the end, she decided. If she failed to speak now, the chance might never return.

“Someone’s corrupting the faith of your followers, David,” she said softly, her voice heavy with finality. “You asked me to correct your path. Then that I shall do.”

This time, the words landed. His head turned slightly, brows furrowing as if struck. “What are you talking about?”

Alice steadied herself. “Ascended Souls rise in cultivation through many methods. Most rely on faith, but each case is unique. In my case, I carved my ascent with my bloody history and my bloodline. Your sister, Da Ji, used the strength of her ancient soul. But you…” She paused, eyes lingering on him with something like pity. “You can only elevate yourself through faith. For you are a Paladin… your strength is drawn from people as your patron, and you as their idol. A paradox, feeding into itself, yet still… a knight through and through.”

David gave a small, humorless laugh. “I can’t. I’m stuck on [Level 1].”

Alice’s eyes narrowed. “Perhaps the reason is because you reject ascension. Does worship disgust you?”

His expression twisted. “If I’m the one doing the worshipping, I think I don’t mind…”

“Then you should have been more honest with yourself.” Her tone sharpened, carrying an edge of rebuke. “Don’t let the faith of the people consume you and twist you. But don’t reject it either. Right now, a cult has been established in your name. It spreads outside the Empire, and its propagation will mean your corruption. The more they worship that twisted image of you, the more it clings to your fate.”

David’s hands clenched at his sides. He said nothing, but the unease in his silence was telling.

“What you need,” Alice continued firmly, “is a church. Not one built on lies or distortion, but a place where you can house your believers, receive their unperverted faith, and still remain yourself. David, I understand it makes you uncomfortable. I know you carry the weight of expectations and work for the greater good without complaint. But you must understand… there’s a god in you.”

He turned sharply, voice cracking low. “I am… not god…”

Alice met his gaze, her crimson eyes unwavering. “Then be the man who defines what a god should be.”