Immortal Paladin

“Can you take a look at these for me, Alliance Master?”

I placed the two tomes before Yi Qiu, one bound in faded azure leather and the other wrapped in crude beast hide. “Tell me what you think of them. I found them in a cave.”

Yi Qiu looked up from where he sat, his eyes still dim from exhaustion but sharp as ever. “A cave, you say? Then this should be interesting.”

He accepted both tomes with the care of a scholar touching relics of history. The faint scent of medicinal herbs lingered on him. His fingers trembled slightly from the pain as he flipped open the first tome, the martial art manual.

For a while, only the sound of turning pages filled the quiet room. He hummed to himself a few times, stopping occasionally to brush a thumb across certain passages or diagrams. His brows furrowed, then relaxed.

When he finally closed it, he said, “This… is the Southern Swift Sword.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You recognize it?”

Yi Qiu nodded slowly. “It’s a style known in the Martial Alliance, though it has long fallen out of favor. It was common among mercenaries and wandering swordsmen about a hundred years ago. The art originates from the now-destroyed sect called Billowing Winds.”

I folded my arms, listening closely as he continued.

“It’s a martial art that focuses on speed, bursts of momentum, flickering steps, and cutting through wind resistance. However…” He trailed off, frowning again. “There’s something odd about this version. It’s been altered, the movements have been compacted, adjusted for smaller physiques. And there’s a kind of… animal-like ferocity in its rhythm. Not something human.”

I leaned forward slightly. “Animal-like?”

“Mm. The strikes emphasize instinct over precision, a kind of primal savagery. Whoever practiced this wasn’t relying purely on discipline or human structure. It’s like someone took the Southern Swift Sword and rebuilt it for… something else.”

That lined up all too neatly with what I had seen, a kobold wielding the sword as if it had been born with it.

Yi Qiu moved on to the second tome, the cultivation method. He turned the pages with a more cautious expression, muttering now and then. His qi faintly stirred as he tested the resonance of the method.

After a long silence, he closed it and looked up at me.

“This one… I’ve never seen it before,” he admitted. “But it resembles fragments of known systems from the Martial Alliance, such as Nine Star Unity, Innate Forging of Four Attributes, and even a touch of Golden Meridian Flow. It’s an amalgamation, but a refined one.”

He tapped the tome with a thoughtful finger. “It’s not something groundbreaking, but it’s efficient. Elegant, even. With the right constitution, instinct, and environment, one could easily cultivate this to the Seventh Realm. Theoretically, it even allows for Bloodline Refinement, drawing on draconic essence to reshape one’s body.”

He looked at me, frowning faintly. “That’s no minor feat. Cultivation methods that can advance to Bloodline Refinement are exceedingly rare.” Of course, I might just be blowing hot air, but I’d like to believe I’ve studied enough of the cultivation methods of the Hollowed World to call myself knowledgeable.

I sat back in silence for a moment. A kobold of all things had reached the Eighth Realm and even managed a dragon transformation. What was it, then? A genius kobold? Or perhaps a creature that had been cultivating for thousands of years? Either possibility disturbed me.

Yi Qiu noticed my expression. “Is there a reason why you’re showing me this, Your Majesty?”

I wasn’t eager to explain the entire story. So instead, I shifted the conversation. “How’s your injury? Has Joan been taking care of you well?”

Yi Qiu’s lips curved into a rueful smile. He loosened his robe slightly and revealed his chest, a dark, hand-shaped mark burned into his flesh, pulsing faintly with residual quintessence.

“As you can see,” he said dryly, “I’m not doing well. But at least I’m still awake.”

My eyes narrowed at the sight.

“Can you tell me what happened?” I asked quietly.

Yi Qiu sighed, his shoulders heavy. “My second in command betrayed me. Before I realized it, my own council had turned against my decisions, pushing for an alliance with the Heavenly Temple. I refused, and soon after, I was ambushed by a mysterious master.”

He paused, his gaze distant. “I couldn’t gauge their level. Even now, I question how I’m still alive.”

“Describe them,” I pressed. “If I meet them, I’ll repay the humiliation you suffered.”

Yi Qiu shook his head weakly. “I didn’t see them at all. They struck from the shadows. One strike, and I fell.”

“That’s a bit too much, isn’t it? They have to be at least Ascended Soul with an Immortal Art…”

Yi Qiu’s voice turned bitter. “It was a one-sided slaughter, Your Majesty. Both politically and in martial ability. I couldn’t predict it, couldn’t counter it. The Martial Alliance crumbled from within while the Heavenly Temple pressed from without.”

He coughed harshly, a spatter of dark blood marring his sleeve, but he continued. “When your empire was suffering its civil war, we were drowning in pressure from assassinations, skirmishes, and diplomatic manipulations. The Heavenly Temple has a strategist unlike any I’ve seen. Ruthless and brilliant. I’m sorry, Your Majesty. I failed to act when you needed us most.”

I placed a hand on his shoulder, steadying his trembling form.

“It’s fine, Alliance Master,” I said softly. “You did what you could.”

His tired eyes met mine, and I smiled faintly. “And besides… it’s no longer the Grand Ascension Empire.”

He blinked. “Oh?”

“It’s the Holy Ascension Empire now.”

“Holy Ascension…” Yi Qiu whispered the name like a prayer. “Then my apologies…”

“It’s fine, fine, but you are speaking rather reserved, huh?”

“I am rather ignorant of current events,” Yi Qiu admitted, exhaling softly. His voice trembled faintly with fatigue, though his tone remained steady. “As for the Martial Alliance, I don’t think I can do anything, given my current position there. But still—” he paused, his eyes lowering, “—I would like to make a shameless request.”

He shifted his weight, the old pain clearly pressing upon his body. “It doesn’t help that the Union keeps threatening to declare war on the Martial Alliance every chance they get. I suspect the Heavenly Temple and the Union are working toward the same goal.”

He met my eyes. “As to what that goal is, I can’t tell. But if you find anything about their motives, please… tell me.”

I nodded slowly. “I will. But—” I gestured to the tomes still resting on his lap. “The tomes. Can you tell me more about them? I think there’s more to it…”

Yi Qiu blinked and then chuckled under his breath. “Ah, right. Forgive me, Your Majesty. I am not exactly confident, but I’ll tell you what I can. What do you think is ‘more’ to it?”

“Traces of the Heavenly Temple.”

He skimmed through the cultivation method once again, his expression growing thoughtful. His eyes darted between the diagrams of meridians and the strange cyclical flow patterns. Finally, he closed the tome with a sigh.

“I believe the core of this method,” he said, “was based on one that the Heavenly Temple teaches to its disciples. It’s called the Cycle of Heaven & Earth.”

I leaned forward, brow furrowing. “The Cycle of Heaven & Earth?”

“Yes,” Yi Qiu replied. “A method that focuses on balancing the world’s natural qi with one’s internal essence. It’s said to emulate the rhythm of the heavens themselves. But this version…” He glanced down at the tome again, frowning. “It’s hidden well, deliberately. Hmmm… Someone’s been changing the cultivation methods of the Martial Alliance? That’s a possibility…”

He hesitated before asking, “Where did you get these tomes, Your Majesty?”

I didn’t answer immediately.

The timing was too strange.

Since the Arch Gate’s collapse, spiritual energy in the world had been waning. Yet monster activity was rising, violently and unnaturally. Kobolds with martial arts and cultivation methods. Dryads with layered immortality. Moreover, the timing of the Martial Alliance’s internal conflict and their conclusion was too perfect.

Coincidence? Not a chance.

“It’s just a curiosity,” I said finally, feigning nonchalance. “For now, recover your strength. We’ll talk again once you’ve regained more of your power. As for your plans…” I allowed myself a small smile. “Whatever you intend for the future, I’ll support you. If you wish to reclaim the Martial Alliance, you have my backing.”

Yi Qiu’s eyes widened, gratitude flooding his expression. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

I waved it off lightly, though inwardly, I wasn’t entirely comfortable seeing him bow so deferentially. He had once been a proud man, a pillar of martial unity. Now he was broken, cautious, and deferent.

I was even tempted to use Divine Possession on him to probe his condition more deeply. But my Divine Sense warned me not to. A faint ripple of malice clung to his aura, subtle but sharp, as if something was watching from within.

Normally, I would ignore such warnings. But… I’d been reminded enough times lately to take better care of myself.

“Take care,” I said simply as I turned toward the door.

At the window beside me, I caught sight of Yuen Fu and Dave sparring in the courtyard. The younger one’s movements were clumsy but earnest, while Dave corrected him with patient precision in the way of a Paladin, both disciplined and compassionate.

From behind, the mist parted, and Nongmin appeared, bowing respectfully.

“Your Majesty,” he began, “Lord Dave has just returned from marking the territory of the Union, specifically the borders between the Empire and their inner regions by using his Egress Spell. You should now be able to travel to those territories freely with your own Egress.”

I nodded. “Good. And the Guardians?”

“He left several squads to search for clues related to the world of Losten. So far, nothing conclusive.”

“Hmm…” I folded my arms. “Set an appointment with Dave for me. I’ll need to speak with him. The kobold situation might be tied to LLO somehow; better to share what I’ve learned.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

I paused for a moment before asking, “How’s Yi Qiu’s condition from your perspective? His temperament seems… off. Could it be the result of some possession technique?”

Nongmin’s expression turned grave. “I can’t say for sure. He’s been staying within his quarters, cultivating diligently, and suppressing the injuries as best he can. Lady Joan has secluded herself in the repurposed library, researching his affliction.”

I nodded. “And my sister?”

“She’s doing well in the Beast Court. Her team is still proceeding with the infiltration of the Heavenly Temple under the exchange program.”

I exhaled in mild relief. “Good.”

“As for Lady Gu Jie’s party,” Nongmin continued, “there’s been no word.”

I frowned slightly. “They’ll be fine,” I murmured. “Gu Jie’s resilient. She knows how to survive.”

Nongmin gave a respectful nod, but before I could dismiss him, he added quietly, “Your Majesty… one more thing.”

“What is it?”

“Alice,” he said hesitantly, “dragged Lu Gao somewhere… and no one has seen them since.”

I stared at him, blinking once.

Of course she did.

A sigh escaped me. “That woman’s not going to give me another headache, isn’t she?”

Nongmin didn’t dare to answer.

Hopefully, nothing too weird was going on.

That was what I wanted to believe, at least.

Alice had suggested to me, not too long ago, that she and Lu Gao would “go challenge the sun” as a form of training. I had, of course, told her no. Quite firmly, too.

Surely, they weren’t doing something just as idiotic… right?

I frowned as I walked through the corridor, Nongmin quietly trailing behind me like a silent shadow. The thought of Alice’s “training” methods had always unsettled me, mostly because they worked. Unfortunately, they also came with a questionable sense of morality and an equally questionable sense of humor.

I’d asked her to train Lu Gao to reach Ascended Soul as soon as possible. But now that I thought about it… where were they?

I stopped in my tracks, closing my eyes. Through the connection of my Hell Soul, which I’d embedded in Lu Gao for guidance, I could feel… something.

My brow twitched.

The Hell Soul felt giddy.

That was never a good sign.

When I immersed my awareness through the link, the scene that unfolded in my inner vision made my cheek twitch uncontrollably.

Lu Gao, in his Divine Transformation, was standing at the mouth of a narrow, burning chasm. It was a Hell Gate. Around him, swarms of horned, twisted demons surged forward, snarling and shrieking as they clashed against his purple blade. Each swing of his weapon shattered bodies and sent torrents of infernal flame scattering like waves.

High above it all, sitting cross-legged atop her bicorn, was Alice. She was lazily chewing on a piece of jerky and watching like it was a festival performance.

I didn’t know whether to laugh or weep.

Reviewing the Hell Soul’s memories, the truth became painfully clear: Alice’s idea of training was to force open dormant Hell Gates and have Lu Gao fight through the demonic hordes until the infernal energy exhausted itself.

And if Lu Gao happened to die?

Well, Alice had apparently taken it upon herself to resurrect him, over and over again, using resurrection relics.

I sighed. “Of course she’d go that far.”

Still… I couldn’t deny that her method was effective. Brutal, but efficient. Each time Lu Gao fell and rose again, his comprehension of hell deepened, both its nature and its metaphysical weight. For a Hell Paladin, that kind of direct understanding was invaluable.

“Fine,” I muttered. “Let’s just… hope he keeps his sanity this time.”

When I opened my eyes, I was already in the throne room. The massive silver doors closed behind me with a soft hum, and the air thickened with divine energy.

At the base of the dais lay my Human Soul clone, motionless, its body pale and still, almost like a corpse. I extended my hand and whispered,

“Divine Possession.”

The Human Soul returned, and the clone stirred, letting out a lazy yawn. I reached out and injected a small portion of my quintessence into it, reigniting its qi and mana simultaneously.

“Wake up,” I said.

“Ugh…” The clone rubbed its eyes. “That was… brief.”

“You’re heading to the Union,” I instructed. “Continue the training and investigation. I’ll synchronize memories in real time to maintain consistency.”

“Got it,” the clone replied.

I raised a hand, activating a skill. “Egress.”

The Human Soul clone shortly vanished.

I exhaled softly and sank into my throne. I flexed my right hand, studying it. Without hesitation, I tore off one of my fingers. The flesh didn’t bleed. Instead, it simply shimmered into golden light.

“Divine Word: Life.”

“Blessed Regeneration.”

“Divine Word: Raise.”

The fragment of divine flesh twisted, reshaped, and grew, forming the perfect vessel. Then, with a deep breath, I whispered,

“Divine Possession.”

The Asura Soul flowed into the new body.

Unlike my previous creations, this clone was something far beyond a mere fragment. Instead, it was forged with the full replication of my divine structure and techniques. It didn’t bear the Hollow Star, true, so it was weaker than my true self. But it was complete. Capable of wielding everything I could, even my Ultimate Skills.

If Alice were here, she’d scold me for this. No, she’d probably hit me with and call me an idiot for even trying. Because by creating anAsura Soul clone, I’d effectively entered a soulless state, meaning if something went wrong, my existence could fracture beyond repair. Something that I got too close with the fake religion smearing me.

Still, I needed this.

Too many fronts were opening at once, and I couldn’t risk the Empire stagnating while I was away.

“Nongmin,” I said.

The shadowy man stepped forward, kneeling beside the throne. “Yes, Your Majesty?”

“I’ll be leaving this Asura Soul clone here,” I explained, gesturing toward the duplicate sitting cross-legged beside me. “It will handle all administrative and imperial affairs in my absence.”

Nongmin tilted his head slightly. “Then… may I ask, where will you be going, Your Majesty?”

I smiled faintly, resting my chin on my hand. “A road trip.”

His eyes widened. “…A road trip?”

“Yes,” I said, amused by his confusion. “I plan to visit every civilization in the Hollowed World and mark them with my Egress spell. That way, I can travel anywhere instantly whenever I need to.”

“I see…” Nongmin said slowly, though I could feel his unease.

“And while I’m at it,” I added with a grin, “I don’t mind hunting a few ‘special existences’ along the way. You know, like Aixin, or that Fey I just fought. Consider it… cleansing the board.”

“Fey? I don’t understand, but… I see…” Nongmin bowed deeply. “As you will, Your Majesty. I will ensure the clone is protected and the Empire remains secure.”