Immortal Paladin

[POV: Yuan Shun]

Yuan Shun watched from the folds of shadow as Hei Mao’s Immortal Art unraveled. The torii gate faded from his eyes, the impossible pressure receding as if it had never existed. His form returned to normal, dark and white robes settling against his frame, the red scarf once more wrapped loosely around his neck as though it were nothing more than an ornament.

She felt intimidation then, sharp and unwelcome.

Yuan Shun did not like that sensation, not in the slightest. She concealed it beneath a composed stillness, yet envy still coiled tightly in her chest. ‘As expected of Da Wei,’ she thought bitterly. ‘To take in a disciple like this…’ The disparity gnawed at her pride, and with it came the urge to remind Hei Mao of his place.

With her Heavenly Eye open, she sifted through branching possibilities until she found the one she wanted. It was narrow, fragile, but sufficient to instill fear. Power gathered in her palm as umbramancy intertwined with necromancy, the twin pillars of the Eternal Undeath Cult answering her call with eager malice.

From behind Hei Mao, a banshee rose.

Its arms wrapped around him, translucent and cold, pressing against his chest as it wailed. The cry was not sound alone, but despair given form, clawing directly at the spirit. Hei Mao stiffened, breath hitching, and dropped to one knee as Yuan Shun layered the attack with an illusion of the mind.

Memories surged into Hei Mao, filled with loss, failure, and helplessness.

She watched him tremble as his worst moments were dragged to the surface and forced upon him again and again. Yet even then, he resisted. Hei Mao gritted his teeth and forced the word out, voice raw but resolved.

“Exorcise.”

The banshee shrieked as the illusion fractured, and for a moment Yuan Shun’s expression tightened. Then she snapped her fingers.

Spectral chains burst from the ground, their links etched with runes of binding and decay. They wrapped around Hei Mao’s limbs and torso, locking him in place as the weight of soul-binding crushed down upon him. His resistance faltered, and this time he did not rise.

Yuan Shun stepped out of the shadows, her footsteps unhurried, her delight no longer concealed. She stopped a short distance away, tilting her head as she regarded him.

“Any last words?” she asked lightly.

Hei Mao spat blood onto the stone and lifted his gaze toward her. His eyes were sharp despite the restraints, his expression carrying no trace of panic.

“How about a few?” he shot back.

Yuan Shun paused, studying him. Thoughts stirred in her mind, possibilities branching into deception, delay, or some desperate ploy to buy time. She did not particularly care. Watching despair take root was entertaining in its own way, and she was confident enough in her control to indulge him.

“I’m busy,” she said at last, her tone cooling. “I’d rather end this here.”

Hei Mao let out a breath that might have been a laugh. “You should listen,” he replied. “There’s something you don’t know. And it would benefit you.”

Her right eye throbbed sharply, a dull ache that made her scowl. The Heavenly Eye refused to cooperate suddenly, a flaw in the assimilation showing itself, and she was already pushing it too far. In the real world, her true body strained to maintain the ritual, forcing this record of the past to persist.

It would have been easy to dissect his words, to peer through countless futures and strip his lies bare. Instead, she restrained herself, closing the eye halfway as irritation flickered across her face.

“Speak,” Yuan Shun said flatly. “What is it?”

Hei Mao met her gaze, chains rattling softly as he shifted. “Did it ever occur to you,” he asked, “that everything has been going too smoothly? Or that maybe we’re exactly where someone wanted us to be?”

Yuan Shun scoffed, contempt flashing across her features. “Pathetic,” she snapped. “Resorting to bluffing when the outcome is already decided. You’re grasping at nothing.”

“I didn’t expect things to develop like this,” Hei Mao admitted, his voice steady despite his position. “But even so, it’s all within expectations.”

Her patience evaporated.

“I’ve had enough of your useless prattle,” Yuan Shun said, raising her hand as power gathered once more. “It’s time for you to go.”

She had trapped these people within this record of the past to contain them, to isolate variables that threatened her designs. Ru Qiu, in particular, was far too dangerous to be left unchecked, and this fabricated world was meant to be a cage.

Yuan Shun began to cast her spell, shadows and death answering her call.

Then Hei Mao spoke again, quietly but clearly.

“You’ve been looking in the wrong direction,” he said. “When you assessed the danger.”

Yuan Shun’s golden eye flared.

Divine intent descended as she raised her hand, the Heavenly Eye burning through layered laws as she invoked a forbidden authority. The sky above tore apart, clouds parting as if split by an unseen sovereign will. From that rupture, a colossal golden divine sword manifested, its edge etched with runes of judgment and annihilation.

“Heavenly Punishment.”

The sword fell.

Hei Mao’s head snapped upward, disbelief flashing across his bloodied face as the shadow of divine judgment swallowed him whole. “How is it possible for you to know that spell?” he demanded, shock threading through his voice even as chains bound him in place.

Yuan Shun did not answer.

She watched calmly as the divine sword crashed down upon him, erupting into a blinding pillar of golden light. The ground shattered violently, stone collapsing inward as a massive crater formed. Sparks of divine energy arced outward, scorching pillars, formations, and candle stands alike.

When the light receded, Hei Mao was embedded into the earth at the crater’s center. His body was broken, robes torn and soaked in blood as he spat crimson onto the cracked stone beneath him.

Yuan Shun narrowed her eyes.

That should have been enough.

It was a direct counter to his nature, a spell designed to erase beings aligned with evil, fiend, undead, and shadow. Yet he still lived. Barely, but undeniably so. Considering Hei Mao’s origin as the vessel crafted by the Supreme Void to breach this world, the outcome no longer surprised her.

Annoyance flickered across her expression.

She raised her hand again.

A second Heavenly Punishment answered her call.

Another golden divine sword tore through the heavens, heavier and more condensed than the first. It descended without hesitation, crashing into Hei Mao’s body with merciless precision.

Hei Mao laughed.

The sound was wet and ragged, yet defiant, echoing strangely within the shattered palace grounds. He lifted his head with effort, blood running freely down his chin.

“This won’t be the last time you see me,” he said hoarsely. “I’ll return.”

The second sword descended fully, crushing him beneath its judgment. Light flared once more, then collapsed inward. When the radiance faded, there was nothing left but a dark smear etched into the crater floor.

Yuan Shun turned away.

There was still far too much to do.

This world, though birthed from her spell formation and shaped from a recorded past, was not a playground where she could act without restraint. The rules still bound her, and within this fabricated reality she had little confidence in confronting a Hei Mao capable of wielding an Immortal Art head-on.

Still, the outcome had been acceptable.

By exploiting the faint essence of the Supreme Void lingering within every cult member of the Eternal Undeath Cult, she had transformed them into obedient, mindless fodder. It had been crude, but effective, and it bought her the time she needed.

That alone made it worthwhile.

Though limited, she was not without privileges.

With a thought, space folded obediently around her as she came and went freely, unhindered by distance. Her Heavenly Eye opened once more, gazing across the world in search of two familiar presences.

Ru Qiu.

Da Wei.

By now, the two must have confronted the Supreme Void.

Yuan Shun smiled faintly.

Reality twisted, and she appeared at the edge of a ruined forest where ancient trees lay splintered and burned. At its center hovered a sphere of dark veil, dense and impenetrable, swallowing light itself. Trapped within were Ru Qiu and Da Wei, their figures gone behind layers of suppression and sealing laws.

Everything was proceeding as planned.

She had tempted Ru Qiu subtly, whispering fragments of truth into his subconscious while he lay comatose and defenseless. Illusion spells had been woven delicately, nudging him toward the idea of confronting the Supreme Void or maybe the Yellow Emperor. Of course, without ever revealing her hand.

It had been the most vulnerable Ru Qiu had ever been.

Eliminating him outright would have been ideal. Unfortunately, back at the Temple, Da Wei had kept a careful watch on her every move. Even this Da Wei, merely an avatar of the real one, carried enough power to become troublesome if provoked directly.

For now, trapping Ru Qiu was sufficient.

Yuan Shun clasped her hands behind her back, satisfaction blooming quietly within her chest as she gazed upon the sealed sphere.

“I’m very pleased,” she murmured to herself.

She only needed a little more time.

With a thought, Yuan Shun returned to the Temple.

Space folded without resistance, and the ruined forest vanished behind her as familiar stone walls took form once more. The corridors were unchanged. She walked through them at an unhurried pace, her footsteps echoing softly as she moved deeper toward the center.

At the heart of the Temple, a tall spire rose like a solitary finger pointing toward the heavens.

Yuan Shun slowed as she approached. Within that spire resided Wen Yuhan, her late benefactor whose presence lingered only as an echo, and Gu Jie, another of Da Wei’s disciples.

For a moment, memories surfaced unbidden.

She remembered when she had been little more than an innocent girl, trailing behind her twin brother Yuan Shen wherever he went. Quan Shou had always been there too, loud and earnest, dragging them both into reckless games and half-baked adventures. Those days had been warm, uncomplicated, and painfully distant.

Yuan Shun had severed them willingly.

Sentiment had no place in the future she sought.

She took another step forward.

Two figures blocked her path.

Quan Shou stood on the left, Yuan Shen on the right, both wearing the faces she remembered from adulthood rather than the children of her memories. Their expressions were blank, eyes fixed on her with a cold intensity that made her pause.

Killing intent rolled off them in waves.

Yuan Shun’s brow furrowed. Something was deeply wrong. Both of them radiated cultivation at the Tenth Realm, an absurdity that defied reason. They should not have reached such heights, not here, not ever. Stranger still was the absence she felt when she probed deeper.

There was no spark of wisdom.

No clarity.

No living comprehension behind their gazes.

“What is the meaning of this?” Yuan Shun demanded, her voice sharp as she studied them more closely.

A presence shifted behind her.

“I’m not like Master,” Gu Jie said calmly. “That’s why I can act unkindly when the situation calls for it.”

Yuan Shun turned slowly, golden eye narrowing as Gu Jie came into view. Hatred surfaced instantly, old and familiar. She despised Gu Jie on principle, because of how alike they were, and because Gu Jie reflected the paths Yuan Shun had rejected.

Gu Jie’s cultivation had reached the Ninth Realm, the World Path. It was impressive by most standards, but laughably insufficient before Yuan Shun’s Eleventh Realm, Perfect Immortal foundation.

Yuan Shun laughed, the sound sharp and derisive. “A hypocrite,” she said. “To think you’d resort to something like this.”

Quan Shou moved first.

He drew a sword from his sheath, its blade gleaming with precious metals and layered inscriptions far beyond what Gu Jie could have forged in such a short span of time. Yuan Shen followed, unsheathing a saber of similar make, its edge humming with restrained power.

Yuan Shun’s eyes flicked between the weapons and their wielders.

Her gaze sharpened as she looked deeper, peeling away surface impressions until the truth lay bare. Quan Shou and Yuan Shen were already dead. Their bodies were animated by threads of destiny and strange bindings, manipulated like marionettes.

Corpse puppets.

A memory surfaced, her battle with Hei Mao. During that entire clash, Gu Jie had acted elsewhere, unseen and unchallenged. In that brief window, she had killed Quan Shou and Yuan Shen and refined them into tools.

Hei Mao’s words echoed in Yuan Shun’s mind.

“You’ve been looking in the wrong direction.”

She rejected the thought immediately. Even now, she did not believe Gu Jie posed any real threat to her. The disparity in cultivation was simply too vast.

Yet the realization left a bitter taste.

Even if they were “fake” in the sense of belonging to this recorded past, Quan Shou and Yuan Shen had been innocent. Gu Jie had crossed a line without hesitation.

Yuan Shun lifted her chin, a cold smile spreading across her lips as she met Gu Jie’s gaze.

“So this is how you’ve chosen to play,” she said softly. “Very well.”

Her golden eye gleamed with lethal promise.

“I’ll kill you slowly,” Yuan Shun continued, her voice dripping with contempt, “just like I did your fellow disciple, Hei Mao.”

Gu Jie’s expression did not change as Yuan Shun’s taunt settled between them. She merely inclined her head slightly, eyes steady and unflinching.

“I’m aware Hei Mao is probably dead by now,” Gu Jie said calmly. “But as long as his corpse remains intact, my master can resurrect him.”

Yuan Shun laughed, the sound sharp and disdainful. “Delusions,” she replied coldly. “You should abandon them now. I left nothing behind for him to return to. Not even Da Wei can retrieve what no longer exists.”

A faint smirk tugged at Gu Jie’s lips.

“Are you certain about that?” she asked.

Yuan Shun’s golden eye narrowed. A sense of unease crept into her chest, subtle yet undeniable. Something was deeply wrong. Drawing upon her authority as the core of this recorded past, she activated her Heavenly Eye, directing her gaze toward the dark veil imprisoning Ru Qiu and Da Wei.

Outside the veil, she saw a young woman she recognized distantly, Zhou Yong, standing firm as she carried a strange golden flag upon her shoulder. The object radiated a presence that made even her authority recoil.

Before she could probe further, pain lanced through her senses.

Her Heavenly Eye shut violently, vision snapping closed as her authority fractured and retreated. Yuan Shun staggered half a step, shock flashing across her face.

Gu Jie exhaled softly. “Shutting down your Heavenly Eye was the easy part,” she said. “After all, I possess its predecessor.”

Yuan Shun’s thoughts churned.

This world was fake, a constructed record sustained by her formation, yet its people retained their own wills. She had accounted for Da Wei, for Ru Qiu, even for Hei Mao’s interference. What she had never foreseen was that someone born of this fabricated past would become the fulcrum upon which everything turned.

Her plans were unraveling.

Snarling, Yuan Shun attempted to invoke her authority, intent on shifting space and appearing beside Zhou Yong. The world resisted her command.

“Divine Mandate of Proximity,” Gu Jie said quietly.

Golden light erupted outward, forming a vast dome that sealed the space around them. The air hummed with absolute restriction, isolating Yuan Shun within the barrier with Gu Jie standing calmly at its center.

Yuan Shun laughed wryly, bitterness threading through the sound. “I didn’t expect this,” she admitted. “But don’t mistake this for anything meaningful.”

She lifted her chin, divine pressure surging outward as she released her cultivation fully. “You are nothing to me,” Yuan Shun declared. “With my realm, this will amount to nothing more than a delay.”

She vanished.

Zealot’s Stride carried her forward in a violent distortion of space as she closed the distance to Gu Jie in an instant. Her hand lifted, intent on ending it—

Yuan Shen appeared.

He materialized directly in her path, saber raised, corpse-puppet eyes empty yet precise. Yuan Shun clicked her tongue and activated Flash Step, phasing past him without slowing.

Quan Shou was already there.

His sword swept toward her neck, imbued with ruthless efficiency. Yuan Shun met the blade barehanded, her palm striking with Flash Parry, divine force shattering the momentum. In the same breath, she invoked Shadow Step, slipping into darkness and reappearing within Gu Jie’s shadow.

Gu Jie turned her head slowly, meeting her gaze without surprise.

Golden strings erupted.

They wrapped around Yuan Shun’s limbs, torso, and throat, binding her cultivation with terrifying precision. She froze mid-motion, eyes widening as she traced the threads backward.

Her breath caught.

Wen Yuhan stood within the spire’s threshold, eyes closed, body upright yet lifeless. Golden threads visible only to Yuan Shun extended from Gu Jie’s fingertips, piercing into Wen Yuhan’s corpse like a puppeteer’s control lines.

Wen Yuhan’s aura surged.

Perfect Immortal cultivation flooded the space, vast and rigorous, matching Yuan Shun’s own power layer for layer.

“How…?” Yuan Shun whispered, disbelief cracking her composure.

Gu Jie’s voice remained steady. “An unfortunate development,” she said. “Wen Yuhan died attempting to summon the Yellow Emperor. I saw no reason to waste such a precious weapon right in front of me, so I worked within the spire and made something useful out of her.”

Rage surged through Yuan Shun, sharp and blinding. Her teeth clenched as disbelief gave way to fury. To refine Quan Shou and Yuan Shen had already been unforgivable. To defile Wen Yuhan  bind a Perfect Immortal into a puppet went beyond cruelty.

“You would go this far,” Yuan Shun hissed. “Just to keep me here.”

Gu Jie regarded her quietly, then finally spoke at length.

“I’ve always had a taint in my soul,” she said. “A desire to inflict pain, despair, and misfortune. It was always there, buried deep. I never acted on it because there was never a need.”

Her eyes hardened.

“But today is different.”

Gu Jie tightened the golden threads, the dome humming ominously around them. “I know I’ll die here,” she continued evenly. “But I’ll do it by keeping you trapped, by ensuring your plans fail, and by guaranteeing our victory when this ends.”

Her gaze never left Yuan Shun.

“And that,” she finished, “is enough for me.”