Immortal Paladin

[POV: Gu Jie]

The staircase spiraled downward beneath the spire, each step older than recorded time.

Gu Jie followed Wen Yuhan in silence as they descended, their footsteps echoing faintly against stone that absorbed sound instead of reflecting it. With every level they passed, torches ignited on their own, flames blooming with pale quintessence rather than fire. The light felt colder the deeper they went, as if it illuminated truths rather than space.

They reached the bottom-most layer beneath the spire.

At its center lay a lake.

Calling it a lake felt generous. It was no larger than a pond, its surface perfectly still, black enough to swallow reflections entirely. No ripples moved across it, not even when Gu Jie stepped closer. It felt less like water and more like a void pretending to be one.

Wen Yuhan stopped at the edge and spoke calmly. “In the future, this lake will grow.”

Gu Jie frowned. “Grow into what?”

“Something vast enough to be called a sea,” Wen Yuhan replied. “It will become a component for some of the most bizarre rituals ever devised. Rituals meant to remake the world.”

The words settled heavily.

Gu Jie turned to her. “Why did you bring me here?”

Wen Yuhan glanced at her sidelong. “If you truly wield the Destiny Seeking Eyes, you should already know.”

Gu Jie clenched her fists. “Then say it.”

Wen Yuhan’s gaze sharpened. “You lack discipline. More importantly, you lack honesty.”

Gu Jie stiffened.

“You hide secrets from your master,” Wen Yuhan continued, her voice even but cutting. “You assume you know better than an existence whose essence comes from the origin of everything.”

The restraint Gu Jie had maintained for decades shattered.

“What was I supposed to do?” she shouted. “Tell him everything and watch him collapse under it? Let him shoulder even more than he already has?”

Wen Yuhan scoffed lightly. “If you cannot control yourself, then we should speak again in a few decades.”

The world shifted.

Before Gu Jie could react, formations flared beneath her feet. The lake vanished. The spire vanished. Her senses folded inward violently, and she found herself standing alone inside her own mind.

This formation was nothing like the one Wen Yuhan used when they first met.

That one had been oppressive, alien, and absolute. This one was intimate, precise, and cruelly familiar. It carried the unmistakable imprint of the Destiny Seeking Eyes, weaving causality and memory together until escape required confrontation rather than cleverness.

Anger surged through Gu Jie, no longer suppressed.

Her memories unfolded without mercy.

She saw her childhood again, brief and fragile. She relived being kidnapped into the Demonic Cult, watching it rot from within before being erased entirely. She wandered the archipelago alone, half-dead and directionless. She reached the Grand Ascension Empire and met her master. She cultivated desperately to heal herself, only to die and be resurrected again and again. She lost her master. She found him again. She watched him shoulder burdens meant for an entire era.

She fought for what she believed was right.

She survived long enough to reach this moment.

When the final memory faded, the formation cracked.

Gu Jie stepped back into reality and glared at Wen Yuhan, breathing heavily.

Wen Yuhan regarded her quietly. “You’ve finally calmed down.”

Gu Jie closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, forcing her qi to settle. “You’re infuriating.”

“That has never stopped you from needing my help,” Wen Yuhan replied as she studied Gu Jie carefully. “If you want my assistance, you will have to be more honest.”

Gu Jie hesitated, then bowed her head slightly.

“Help me,” she said, her voice stripped of pretense. “Help me save my master.”

The truth spilled out at last.

Her master, and father, Da Wei, was dying.

It was a fate only she could see. The thread leading to his end burned brightly in her vision, too close and certain. This time, her master’s life would not merely snap. Instead, it would disintegrate completely, opening the way for a heinous power that desired only destruction to alter the future beyond repair.

She had searched every possible path.

Every answer led here.

To this spire. To this woman.

Wen Yuhan was the creator of the Destiny Seeking Eyes. If anyone understood how to evade destiny itself, it would be her. After all, the Four Heroes had already succeeded once by travelling back in time and killing the Heavenly Demon.

At last, Wen Yuhan spoke. “I am not at liberty to say.”

Gu Jie’s heart sank.

“You should give up,” Wen Yuhan added calmly.

Gu Jie’s composure shattered.

Her eyes burned as she stepped forward, voice sharp with restrained fury. “Did you give up?” she demanded. “When you faced the ultimate odds, did you simply bow your head and accept it?”

Wen Yuhan did not retreat. Instead, she raised a hand and gestured toward her own eyes.

“What do you think?” she asked coldly.

The torches flickered violently as Wen Yuhan’s qi surged. Her voice rose, stripped of its usual calm restraint. “I tried again and again. I exhausted every possibility. I defied destiny until there was nothing left to defy.” Her fingers trembled slightly as she clenched them. “Every single time, I failed to escape the clutches of the Supreme Beings.”

She laughed bitterly. “The fact that I have my Destiny Seeking Eyes back is proof of that failure.”

Gu Jie froze.

Wen Yuhan continued, her words cutting deeper with each sentence. “I would have done worse than subjecting the twins to my powers if it meant changing my fate. I was prepared to sacrifice anything.” Her gaze sharpened. “And yet, what happened?”

Her expression twisted. “Your master reasoned with me. He discouraged me. He convinced me to stop and accept reality. To give up.”

Gu Jie raised her voice in response, anger surging once more. “That choice was not his to make,” she said fiercely. “He didn’t force you to give up. He opened your eyes to the truth.”

She inhaled sharply, steadying herself. “Just because something is futile and pathetic doesn’t mean you lower your head. You can still stand tall. You can still remain dignified.”

Wen Yuhan sneered, her gaze icy. “If he truly believed that,” she shot back, “then why don’t you abide by his teachings?”

Her voice softened into something crueler. “Let him hold his head high. Let him remain dignified. Even in death.”

Gu Jie fell silent.

Her lips pressed together as memories surged unbidden. She remembered Hell’s Gate, where her master stood against damnation. She remembered Aixin, the Supreme Void, the civil war that tore the Empire apart. Every time, he faced annihilation without bending. Every time, he chose dignity over survival.

This time would be no different.

She had come here to save him.

Gu Jie knew the Heavenly Demon was tied to this fate, though she did not yet understand how. That ignorance was precisely why she needed Wen Yuhan’s help.

Slowly, Gu Jie clasped her fist and bowed. “Senior,” she said quietly, “forgive my outburst. Emotions ran hot. It was not my place as a junior to speak so recklessly.”

She straightened, her voice steady but heavy. “I have seen my master lose this time. I have seen his death with certainty.” Her throat tightened. “It was not an ordinary end. It was erasure.”

Wen Yuhan’s anger faded, replaced by a weary stillness. “Then it is useless,” she said calmly. “Saving Da Wei is meaningless.”

Gu Jie’s heart lurched. “What do you mean?”

“You are still lacking,” said Wen Yuhan. “I only saw a glimpse of his true body, but I imagine your master’s fate is worse than you imagine. Da Wei does well in hiding his injuries, but I saw it for myself, cracks over his body like porcelain as if the slightest touch could shatter him. It’s terrible.”

Without hesitation, Wen Yuhan reached up and loosened her robes. She pulled the fabric aside, exposing her upper chest and collarbone.

Cracks spread across her skin like fractured porcelain.

Gu Jie recoiled, a chill racing down her spine.

“This,” Wen Yuhan said quietly, pulling her robe back into place, “is one of the signs.”

“Signs of what?” Gu Jie asked, though dread already coiled in her chest.

“Of the ultimate punishment,” Wen Yuhan replied. “Of impending erasure.”

Gu Jie swallowed hard. “How does it work?”

Wen Yuhan shook her head. “I am not at liberty to say.” Her gaze darkened. “There are many things I am not allowed to say.”

Gu Jie clenched her fists. “Then what are you allowed to say?”

Wen Yuhan studied her for a long moment before speaking. “I may not be able to explain it,” she said slowly. “But there is someone who can.”

Gu Jie steadied her breathing and forced her emotions back under control. Her fingers tightened briefly before she spoke, her voice low but resolute. “Then tell me what I need to do.”

Wen Yuhan studied her for a moment, as if weighing her resolve against something unseen. “That is the reason I brought you here,” she said. “You are meant to meet someone.”

Gu Jie’s heart skipped. “Someone?”

“You will only have eight minutes,” Wen Yuhan continued, her tone grave. “No more. No less.”

Gu Jie frowned. “Who is it?”

Instead of answering immediately, Wen Yuhan raised her hand and swept it toward the black pond.

The surface of the pond shuddered.

Golden lines erupted beneath the dark water, ancient formations lighting up one after another, interlocking and rotating with terrifying precision. The lake began to hum, the sound vibrating directly against Gu Jie’s soul rather than her ears.

Wen Yuhan spoke as the formations awakened. “I consulted this existence to survive the punishment of the Supreme Beings.”

Gu Jie’s eyes widened.

“The Yellow Emperor,” Wen Yuhan said.

As the ritual formation slowly stabilized, Wen Yuhan continued, her voice steady but burdened. “Even with his assistance, I will not survive unscathed. Much of my memories will be lost. I will live, but I will not remain whole. It might as well have been a death sentence, but I will take what I can get.”

She turned to Gu Jie. “If he offers you a solution, understand this clearly. It will not be perfect.”

Gu Jie swallowed hard.

She had heard of the Enlightened Scholar, the Yellow Emperor, from her master many times.

Among Da Wei’s disciples, opinions varied sharply. Yuen Fu had been openly furious, believing this existence played a role in the suffering of the False Earth. Lu Gao remained deeply suspicious, convinced that any being of such stature could not act without hidden motives. Ren Jingyi had shown little interest, treating the matter with detached indifference.

Hei Mao, on the other hand, had laughed it off entirely, boasting that Master Da Wei, Meng Po, Ox-Head, or Horse-Face were far greater figures anyway. He could be childish when pride was involved.

As for Gu Jie, she remained neutral. She did not believe the Yellow Emperor necessarily meant harm, but she also doubted altruism existed at such heights. Self-interest was the truest constant among powerful beings.

Wen Yuhan gestured toward the pond again. “This lake possesses properties unlike anything else. It allows me to perform acts that should not be possible.”

The black surface rippled, and slowly, a silhouette emerged.

Gold bled into darkness, forming the outline of a crowned figure rising from the pond. The shape was vaguely human, yet profoundly wrong, as if reality itself struggled to accommodate its presence.

A voice echoed, layered and distant. “Who summons me?”

Wen Yuhan bowed her head. “I do. On behalf of Gu Jie.”

The crowned silhouette turned toward Gu Jie, though it possessed no visible eyes. “Gu Jie,” it said. “First disciple of Da Wei. You have come seeking answers.”

Gu Jie stiffened. Doubt flickered through her mind, but she forced herself to speak. “Introduce yourself. And explain how you know who I am.”

“I am the Yellow Emperor,” the existence replied calmly. “An ally to Da Wei. I know of you because I have watched him and those bound to his destiny.”

Gu Jie’s heart pounded. “Then help me,” she said urgently. “Help me save my master.”

The Yellow Emperor’s presence pulsed faintly. “That matter lies beyond my authority.”

The words shattered something inside her.

Gu Jie’s vision blurred as bloody tears streamed down her face. She turned her gaze away instinctively, realizing that even this restrained glimpse of divinity could have exploded a lesser cultivator’s skull. Had she not possessed the Destiny Seeking Eyes, madness would have taken her instantly.

Only then did she realize the truth.

The Yellow Emperor was suppressing himself as much as possible.

She glanced toward Wen Yuhan and froze.

Wen Yuhan was kneeling, forehead pressed to the ground in a deep kowtow. Her face was twisted in pain as she shut her eyes tightly, her body trembling under the pressure.

The Yellow Emperor’s voice sounded again, softer this time. “Tell me, Gu Jie.”

A pause followed.

“Are you curious why you are not as affected as Wen Yuhan?”

The Yellow Emperor did not wait for Gu Jie’s response.

“It is related to your becoming Da Wei’s disciple,” he said calmly, his voice reverberating through the ritual space rather than traveling through air. “Did you never find it strange?”

Gu Jie steadied herself, wiping the blood from the corner of her eyes, and listened.

“Most cultivators,” the Yellow Emperor continued, “consume vast quantities of resources in pursuit of immortality. Pills, treasures, inheritances, bloodlines. Yet those who remain close to Da Wei advance with abnormal ease. His disciples, his allies, even those who merely orbit his existence rise faster and further than they should.”

He paused, allowing the implication to settle.

“That is because Da Wei possesses innate divinity,” he said. “A trait unique to Supreme Beings.”

Gu Jie’s breath caught.

This was the first time she had ever heard such a thing.

She did not fully understand what a Supreme Being was, but she knew enough to feel the weight of the words. Supreme Beings were not simply powerful. They were overwhelming anomalies, existences so lofty that even her master had nearly died confronting one, the Supreme Void.

And that Supreme Void had been weakened.

Gu Jie swallowed hard and forced herself to speak. “What does that have to do with saving my master?”

The Yellow Emperor’s silhouette dimmed slightly, as if contemplating how much patience to extend. “Da Wei is among the most powerful existences the universe can imagine,” he said. “If someone like him dies, then it is fate asserting itself. There is no undoing such a conclusion.”

“That’s not true,” Gu Jie snapped. “My master isn’t invincible. He died once to a lackey of a Supreme Being. He nearly died irreversibly to a weakened Supreme Being.”

“I know,” the Yellow Emperor replied without hesitation. “I watched it happen.”

Gu Jie froze.

“A Supreme Being’s attacks,” he continued, “do not merely destroy flesh or soul. They erase existence itself. The Supreme Void was once the most powerful among them. Even weakened, it could erase someone completely from reality if it was willing to pay the price.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Da Wei is amazing to endure such damage,” His tone remained maddeningly even. “You should be grateful you were allowed more time with your master.”

Something inside Gu Jie snapped.

She had never been more angry in her life.

She could not reconcile this indifference with the existence she had heard of in the False Earth. This was the same Yellow Emperor who had cooperated with her master, who had intervened against the Supreme Void’s scheme to steal Da Wei’s body.

She stepped forward, ignoring the pressure threatening to crush her soul. “Then tell me the truth,” she demanded. “What do you want from my master?”

Her voice trembled, but she did not look away. “You watched him. You interfered once. You helped him. Why?”

The Yellow Emperor did not hesitate.

“I wanted to complete Da Wei,” he said plainly.

Gu Jie’s eyes widened.

In that instant, everything clicked. The fragments of visions she had seen. The final image of her master standing incomplete, unfinished, yet still defiant. The sense that something was being shaped through him rather than by him.

Understanding crashed into her like a tidal wave.

The Yellow Emperor’s presence began to fade, the golden silhouette unraveling back into the black pond.

“Whether your Da Wei lives or dies does not matter,” his voice echoed faintly, already retreating beyond reach. “As long as the weapon is completed.”

A pause followed, heavy and final.

“So I suggest you give up, little one,” he concluded. “And let fate play as it was meant to be.”

The golden light vanished.

The pond stilled.

And Gu Jie was left staring into darkness.