Immortal Paladin

At the peak of the mountain, I moved alone beneath an open sky.

World Force rolled through my body as I stepped forward and drove my fist out. 

“Divine Smite.”

Golden radiance erupted from my knuckles, punching into the clouds and scattering them in a violent spiral. The air rang like a struck bell. I followed through without pause, twisting my stance and striking again.

“Searing Smite.”

Fire bloomed from my fist, crimson and incandescent, licking across the heavens and staining the clouds red. Heat rushed outward in a wave, curling back against my skin. I didn’t stop. My breath stayed even as I shifted weight and struck a third time.

“Thunderous Smite.”

Lightning exploded outward, thunder snapping so sharply it rattled the mountain beneath my feet. Blue and gold interwove across the sky, restoring a strange, natural balance to the chaos I’d carved into it.

I inhaled deeply.

“Holy Smite.”

Silver light condensed at my palm and fired forward in a focused lance, holy energy screaming as it cut the air. I lowered my arm slowly, letting the echoes fade, World Force still coursing through my veins as I poured more of it into my circulation.

From the Eighth Realm onward—the Heart Path—cultivation stopped being metaphorical. The heart became a place. A labyrinth of chambers and corridors carved from memory, guilt, desire, and will. To advance, one had to expose the Self entirely, fill each chamber simultaneously, and survive the confrontation. Completion granted a terrifying intimacy: understanding oneself completely, and reading the hearts of others as easily as one’s own pulse.

I was past that now.

The Ninth Realm—the World Path—was different. Here, cultivators learned to wield World Force, a power born not from qi alone, but from the construction of an inner world. The realm unfolded naturally into three phases: Earth, Moon, and Sun.

I exhaled as something settled deep within me.

The Earth Phase had been completed.

My dantian solidified, heavier, denser, more real. I raised my palm and focused. World Force gathered not sharply like qi, nor diffusely like aura, but somewhere between quintessence and authority. It felt like projecting reality itself, shaped by an inner world that fed it endlessly.

Normally, that inner world resided in the core.

Mine didn’t.

It was anchored to my main body instead.

That should have been impossible. And yet, I could still draw on it. Looking back, I realized I’d been doing it instinctively for a long time, threading World Force through aura, Hollow Point, Spirit Mystery ability, and my Soul Recognition ability. Layering it beneath spells and strikes without understanding what I was doing.

Add my Paladin Legacy, a Transcendent Method, on top of that. Add the Six Paths refined through the Longevity Method. Add the simultaneous use of mana and qi, allowing the generation of quintessence, the literal power of creation.

No wonder I punched above my weight.

Sweat ran down my spine as the realization settled in.

“How the fuck was the main body even kidnapped?” I muttered.

A voice carried up from below, rough but familiar.

“Da Wei.”

I turned.

Ru Qiu was climbing up from the lower peaks, his movements steady despite the altitude. He raised his head and met my gaze.

“I want to talk,” he said.

I turned to him and shook my head slightly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Ru Qiu stopped a few steps below me, the wind tugging at his sleeves. It had been months since he woke up, months since he asked me to give him time to think and reconcile the memories that had been forcibly returned to him. I hadn’t pressed him then. I wasn’t going to pretend I didn’t understand the need for silence.

I resumed my stance and continued cycling the Longevity Method, my breathing slow and measured as my fists moved through the familiar sequence of the Paladin Smite Series. I found the repetition grounding and therapeutic. Smite techniques were simple enough that I could clearly observe how World Force flowed through them without distraction.

As I struck and breathed, my mind drifted.

If I had to describe the energies I’d encountered so far, I’d say qi was life—raw vitality. Mana was psyche—thought and intent given form. Aura was presence—the pressure of existence asserting itself. Quintessence was creation itself, the power to impose something new onto reality.

Then what was World Force?

Before I could chase that thought further, Ru Qiu’s voice cut through the mountain air.

“I want revenge.”

I stopped.

The momentum bled out of my body as I exhaled and lowered my hands. I sat down on a slab of stone, looking down at him from above. His expression was calm, but there was something rigid beneath it, something old and unyielding.

“I should tell you this first,” I said. “I have a bad habit.”

He waited.

“I forgive people too easily,” I continued. “Or maybe I sympathize too easily. Nongmin. Jue Bu. Even you.”

His eyes flickered.

“That doesn’t mean I’m a pushover,” I said evenly. “It doesn’t mean you get to drag me along just because I understand where you’re coming from.”

“This will benefit you too,” Ru Qiu replied. His voice was steady and certain. “Our enemy is the same.”

I tilted my head. “Who?”

“The one who brought me to this world.”

I didn’t need him to say the name.

In my mind, the Yellow Emperor surfaced alongside the Game Master I had once encountered inside Joan’s head. Neither friend nor enemy. Just… entities with intent. Designs. Plans laid across eras, using people like pieces on a board.

Were they enemies?

Nongmin had used me, manipulated me, shoved me into a collision with Shenyuan that cost my people’s lives. But he had done it believing it was best for the Empire. I couldn’t deny that. In the end, I forgave him, and he’d spent every day since trying to earn it.

Jue Bu had stolen my body and gambled it all on a suicidal charge against the Supreme Void. I still wanted to punch him for that, but he’d grown into me, and carried my will forward when I couldn’t.

Wen Yuhan had betrayed me. Yuan Shen had schemed to steal my body and failed.

And yet, here I was.

I exhaled through my nose and gave a humorless chuckle. “If I were a proper Paladin,” I muttered, “I should’ve smote every villain the moment they crossed my path. No exceptions.”

I looked back at Ru Qiu.

“But I don’t work like that.”

He studied me, silent.

“I won’t join you,” I said at last. “Not in this.”

As expected, Ru Qiu snapped.

“Are you not angry?” he shouted, his voice cracking as it echoed off the cliffs. “You were used. Dragged from your world. Whisked away to do someone else’s bidding and set on a path you never chose. How can you just accept that?!”

I looked at him calmly. “Whose bidding?” I asked. “And what path?”

The words landed harder than any strike.

Ru Qiu’s mouth opened, then closed. His anger stalled, collapsing inward as if he had run into a wall he hadn’t anticipated. For a long moment, he said nothing.

I had struggled with that same line of thought for a long time after arriving in the Hollowed World. I had obsessed over agency, over whether my choices were truly mine or just nudges along a track laid out by something higher. After dying enough times, though, I learned how pointless that spiral was.

If my freedom was an illusion, then so be it.

I chose to live inside it anyway.

Faith worked the same way. Believe in it strongly enough, and it shaped reality. If I couldn’t tell whether my agency was genuine, then obsessing over it only robbed me of what little control I did have.

I broke the silence first. “How much do you remember?”

Ru Qiu’s jaw tightened. “Everything.”

“Do you remember the voice?” I asked. “The one you heard when you died. Before you were brought here.”

“Yes,” he said without hesitation.

“Then answer me this,” I continued gently. “If you had a chance to return to that life, your wife, and your son, wouldn’t you try everything in your power to reach it again?”

His eyes flickered.

“Give me back the Source,” Ru Qiu said at last.

There it was.

I smiled, slow and rueful. “So that’s what this is.”

He straightened, his voice turning sharp. “It’s just a burden to you.”

“That’s true,” I said easily.

“I can take your disciples hostage,” he continued. “You’d be powerless to stop it.”

I stared at him for half a heartbeat, and then burst out laughing. “Ha ha ha ha ha ha…” The sound startled even me. I bent forward, slapping my knee as the laughter spilled out, unrestrained.

“There’s nothing funny about this,” Ru Qiu snapped.

“Sorry,” I said, still chuckling. “I just… give me a second.”

He glared as I straightened.

“I may not have the Source anymore,” he said coldly. “My [System] is gone. But the power, the knowledge, and the abilities tied to my memories have returned. Someone like Hei Mao? I could subjugate him. Gu Jie? Even with her miraculous gifts, she’d fall just as easily.”

He leaned closer. “You’re just a copy. A fragment. Someone I can deal with.”

“Park Ru-gyu,” I said quietly.

The effect was immediate.

His body stiffened as if struck.

I sighed and looked at him with something close to pity. “Why are you lying to yourself?”

His eyes shook.

Through my Divine Sense, I felt it clearly. The falsehood was thin and desperate. He didn’t want to hurt my disciples. Especially not Gu Jie. I had seen his memories. I knew how he cherished her, like a granddaughter he never had the chance to keep.

Even now, his resolve was fraying.

He might be a Supreme Being in the making, two realms above me, carrying unfathomable power, but his heart was already cracked. And in a battle of words, that mattered more than cultivation.

I met his gaze steadily. “The Yellow Emperor is a nobody to me.”

His breath caught.

“If one day he stands in my way,” I continued calmly, “then I’ll take him down too.”

Ru Qiu should have backed down.

Instead, he clenched his fists, breath uneven, eyes burning with disbelief. “You’re indecisive,” he said harshly. “After everything you’ve seen, everything you know… how can you still hesitate?”

I shook my head slowly. “I’ve never been more decisive in my life.”

He scoffed.

“I’ve always lived this way,” I continued. “I stay true to myself. Every time. This situation isn’t special enough to change that.”

The wind howled between us, carrying the tension down the mountainside. I took a step forward and spread my arms wide, deliberately exposing my chest.

“I see you are unconvinced,” I said evenly, “How about we test your resolve.”

Ru Qiu stiffened.

“Strike me,” I went on. “Kill me in one blow. Not just kill this body, annihilate my Ghost Soul so thoroughly that I can’t resurrect with spells.”

His pupils contracted.

“You know that’s possible,” I added. “If you erase it completely. Though even then, the soul would eventually regenerate back at my main body.”

I lowered my arms slightly, meeting his gaze. “But before you even think about bargaining chips, ask yourself something. Can you really handle what comes after?”

I stepped closer, my voice dropping.

“The Source. Earth. That thing we came from. You know what it did in your hands. You tore apart armies of immortals. You nearly broke the schemes of a Supreme Being and the Yellow Emperor by shattering the barrier between past and future.”

Silence stretched.

Ru Qiu inhaled deeply.

Then he exhaled and let his shoulders drop.

“I give up,” he said.

I nodded. “Yeah. No shit.”

Since he had recovered his memories, he understood the consequences better than anyone. The Source—Earth, origin, whatever name you slapped onto it—wasn’t some artifact or trump card. It exceeded the Hollow Star, surpassed any imaginable existence within the Hollowed World.

It wasn’t something you wielded.

It was something that ruined everything around it.

I studied him. “Is that all?”

Ru Qiu looked… lost. Stripped of purpose, stripped of direction. For the first time since we met, he didn’t look like a god-in-waiting. He looked like a man who had run out of reasons to keep going.

Almost pitiful.

I sighed. “If you’re that lost, I’ll give you a purpose.”

He blinked. “What?”

“Become my teacher.”

The words hung between us.

Ru Qiu frowned. “Why? You’ve hated me.”

“I have,” I admitted. “On my personal hate scale, you rank below Jue Bu, but above Nongmin. That puts you squarely in the tolerable range.”

He stared.

“I need a master,” I continued. “Someone to actually teach me the ropes. Properly. I’ve been lacking that more than I care to admit. I’ve never had anyone who could give me real instruction.”

“You could just take everything from me,” he said slowly. “With Divine Possession.”

I straightened, posture sharp and deliberate. “That’s exactly why this is an honor.”

His brow creased.

“I chose you,” I said. “Who better to teach me than someone who already walked the path of transmigration? Someone who came from the same place I did.”

I met his eyes. “I may not remember Earth, but I know this… you and I are alike where it matters.”

The mountain trembled beneath my feet.

“Besides,” I added lightly, “sometimes the student has to teach the teacher.”

I vanished.

“Flash Step.”

The world snapped, and I reappeared directly in front of him. My fist was already moving, wrapped in blinding gold.

“Divine Smite.”

The blow landed squarely on his cheek.

The sound cracked the sky.

Ru Qiu’s body was hurled clean off the mountain, skipping across peaks like a discarded comet as he disappeared into the distance.

The World Force stirred more vividly than before, responding as if the clash itself had peeled away another veil. When I traced it inward, following the pull back toward my inner world, it led me to a continent shaped by the Ghost Path. It was an endless expanse of snow and silence, frozen seas under a pale, unmoving sky. The aftertaste of my last strike carried frost. A thin chill crawled up my spine, and my aura answered on instinct.

Red light flared around me as I used War Aura. 

It was raw, aggressive, and honest. It flooded my limbs, sharpening every intention. I raised a hand just in time as a lance of dark, fiery qi tore through the air. “Flash Parry,” I muttered, and the impact scorched my palm anyway, heat biting through divine reinforcement.

Ru Qiu’s voice drifted from the smoke. “You’ve got it backwards,” he said calmly. “It’s the master who tests the disciple.”

I snorted and lunged. Catching his leg mid-motion, I locked my grip. “You’re not my master yet,” I shot back. “You’re a teacher-prospect. Don’t get cocky.”

I heaved, pouring everything into the throw. “War Smite.”

The force ripped the ground apart as I hurled him, only for his body to scatter into drifting embers. The moment my senses screamed, it was already too late.

He burst from my shadow.

A palm slammed into my chest, dark fire detonating outward. The world spun, and I crashed through stone and snow, carving a scar into the mountainside.

Ru Qiu stood above the devastation, cloak snapping in the wind. “The umbramancy your disciple Hei Mao uses,” he said, “it came from the Heavenly Demonic Cult. You shouldn’t be surprised I can do this.”

I laughed as I pushed myself out of the rubble, blood humming, heart light. “That’s more like it. Nothing beats real fighting for experience.”

Detached from my main body, my perception of the inner world sharpened instead of dulling. That alone told me I needed to keep this up. If there was any hope of tracking my kidnapped True Self, this was it. The Ghost Path continent answered me with cold yin qi, quiet and inexorable, so the choice was obvious.

“Moon Phase.”

It didn’t matter which phase of the World Path you started with, but following inclination always accelerated growth. The cost was paid later, especially when it came time to complete the Sun Phase, but that was a problem for another day.

I rose fully, brushing dust from my shoulder, genuinely pleased. “I won’t hold back,” I said, more promise than threat.

Qi and mana collided within me, grinding together until they birthed quintessence. My breath tightened. I could manage one Ultimate without tearing myself apart. It was perfect for sparring at full tilt.

“Holy Sword.”

Radiance condensed into my palm, a blade of gold that immediately darkened into crimson as my War Aura bled through it. The weapon felt heavier, denser, and eager.

Ru Qiu watched, eyes narrowing. “My feelings are… complicated,” he admitted. “But I’ve decided on a new goal.”

“Oh?” I tilted my head.

“I’ll have you acknowledge me as your master,” he said, voice steady. “And you’ll give up the Source. Willingly.”

I barked out a laugh. “You might as well suck my dick.”

His lips twitched. “Do you really mean that?”

I stared at him in open disgust. “I’m talking shit.”

Understanding dawned a second too late to Ru Qiu at my talking shit. He narrowed his eyes in annoyance, suppressing his embarrassment. The memories had returned, but the centering clearly hadn’t followed yet. That hesitation were probably my only chance of beating him at my current realm.

Darkness folded around his hand as quintessence gathered again. A blade formed, black fire licking along its edge. Above us, the sky dimmed as an eclipse swallowed the sun.

My lips twitched at the sight of an Immortal Art.

Ru Qiu lifted the sword and met my gaze. “First lesson,” he said dryly. “I’ll teach you how to clean your mouth.”