Immortal Paladin

[POV: Ren Xun]

The Hollowed World had never known true unity before.

Its continents were too vast, its mysteries too deep, its unexplored regions too numerous. Even now, countless blank spaces lingered on official maps, territories where ancient ruins slumbered and unknown civilizations might still thrive beyond the reach of imperial decree.

And yet, for all practical purposes, it stood united.

The Holy Ascension Empire reigned over every major faction and civilization, and at its center stood the Holy Emperor, Da Wei.

It had been a natural consequence of strength.

The existence known as Da Wei had done what no emperor, tyrant, or alliance in recorded history had accomplished. He had united the Hollowed World not merely through conquest, but through overwhelming presence. Through miracles. Through wars won decisively and threats erased cleanly.

Because of that, they could not afford to let go of his existence.

If the symbol disappeared, the fragile equilibrium they had constructed would fracture instantly. Old grudges would resurface. Border disputes would reignite. Ambitious leaders would test the limits of imperial authority.

And so, in Da Wei’s absence, Nongmin had been forced to shoulder leadership once again.

He had not wanted to.

Reluctantly, he delegated much of the burden to his capable son, who had “helpfully” suggested that Jue Bu serve as Da Wei’s body double during the expedition.

Ren Xun regretted ever thinking that was a simple solution.

“Where’s that annoying bastard?” Ren Xun muttered, one hand pressed against his stomach. Despite being a cultivator with a refined physique, he was suffering from a stress-induced stomach ache.

Liang Na stood beside him, composed. “I believe Lord Wei and Ru Qiu requested his presence,” she said cautiously. “It has something to do with… cutlivation.”

Ren Xun exhaled sharply. “And father?”

“Helping construct the soaring vessel for the expedition,” Liang Na replied in the same steady tone. “He’s with Zai Ai of Ten Thousand Tools.”

Lin Lim, Ren Xun’s wife, stepped closer and patted his arm gently. “It’s going to be fine. You’ve got this.”

Ren Xun shot her a look of disbelief. “Yeah, sure. It’s only the first formal assembly of every major faction leader under the new World Council. The symbolic head of the Empire being absent definitely won’t cause any issues at all.”

“I’m here,” a familiar voice said from behind.

Ren Xun spun around immediately. “Lord Wei!”

Relief flooded his face for half a heartbeat before he registered the subtle difference in aura and expression.

“Oh,” he corrected awkwardly. “It’s Jue Bu.”

Jue Bu grimaced. “Hey. It was your idea to make me Da Wei’s stand-in. Show some respect. When we’re convening with the other leaders, you will address me as Your Holy Majesty.”

Ren Xun straightened instantly. “Apologies, Your Majesty.”

“Good enough, I guess,” Jue Bu replied with a lazy wave of his hand.

Ren Xun narrowed his eyes slightly. “What took you so long, anyway?”

“You don’t need to concern yourself with that,” Jue Bu answered dryly. “It would only give you a headache.”

Ren Xun stared at him for a moment before deciding he truly did not want to know.

After a few more barbed exchanges, their expressions gradually shifted into something more serious.

The World Council awaited.

It was a new institution, carefully constructed to formalize unity while preserving the illusion of shared governance. The Holy Emperor served as its axis, the unshakable symbol that kept rival powers aligned.

Jue Bu adjusted his posture subtly, aura tightening into something that more closely resembled Da Wei’s calm authority.

“So,” he asked quietly, “how many among the Council members know my real identity?”

Ren Xun answered without hesitation. “Shouquan and Tao Long.”

He met Jue Bu’s eyes squarely.

“Please work hard,” Ren Xun said, the levity gone from his voice. “For the sake of the Empire.”

There were four tiers of authority within the newly established World Council.

At the very top stood the Holy Throne, reserved solely for the Holy Emperor.

Beneath it were the six Primary seats, occupied by the representative leaders of the greatest factions in the Hollowed World. Shouquan of Ward. Tao Long of the Adventurer’s Guild. Tian En of the reformed Heavenly Temple. Yi Qiu of the Martial Alliance. Liu Yana of the Federation. And Ren Xun of the Dragon Court.

Below them sat the Secondary seats, numbering just under fifty. These were elected representatives of lesser factions, sects, martial schools, and regional powers. They had voices, though limited ones.

At the lowest tier were the Tertiary seats, nearly two hundred observers of influential background. Each had undergone rigorous background checks and examinations. Every one of them was a qualified cultivator and a leader in their own domain, yet here they were reduced to watching history rather than shaping it.

Ren Xun entered the grand venue with measured steps.

The council chamber was a half-spherical dome of white stone and gold inlay. At the highest point of the curved wall stood the ornate Holy Throne. Behind it stretched a series of massive murals depicting the feats of the Holy Emperor. There was Da Wei claiming the Hollow Star. There was the Dark Veil descending like a curtain of night. There was the summoning of the entity now dubbed the World Tree, its roots piercing continents and its branches sheltering nations.

To call Da Wei a figure of legend was an understatement.

His existence was not merely symbolic. It was structural. The prosperity of the Hollowed World depended on him. Perhaps even its survival in whatever cosmic wars loomed beyond their skies.

More personally, Ren Xun clung to something else.

Da Wei had said his son was alive.

Ren Xun did not know how to interpret those words, but if Da Wei had spoken them, then they had to be true. The man had never once made a claim he could not support.

Ren Xun remembered the Hollowed World War vividly. He had believed himself strong. He had believed he could protect what mattered.

He had been wrong.

The sky had been vaster than he imagined, and he had been a frog at the bottom of a well.

He took his seat among the Primaries, posture straight and expression calm. The Secondary and Tertiary members filled the lower tiers, their arrangement subtly reinforcing the hierarchy. The architectural inspiration was obvious. The reformed Heavenly Temple’s old council structure had served as a model, with its upper and lower houses and a Heavenly Master presiding at the apex.

However, the World Council differed in one critical aspect.

Real power rested almost entirely with the Primaries.

The Tertiary were observers. The Secondary were limited participants. The Holy Emperor himself functioned more as a balancing force than an active governor. His role was to prevent escalation, not to micromanage policy.

As the Hollowed World expanded and stabilized, Ren Xun suspected the number of Primaries and council members would increase. New powers would rise. New territories would be integrated. But that was a matter for the future.

For now, the chamber filled gradually.

Shouquan entered with quiet authority. Tao Long wore a faint smile that revealed nothing. Tian En’s expression was solemn. Yi Qiu radiated restrained martial pressure. Liu Yana appeared composed, analytical eyes scanning the chamber.

Then the air shifted.

Jue Bu entered.

He wore Da Wei’s visage convincingly, aura compressed and refined to emulate the Holy Emperor’s presence. Ren Xun felt his stomach tighten again, unsure whether from anxiety or anticipation.

Jue Bu ascended the steps and took the Holy Throne.

For a brief moment, the murals behind him seemed almost alive.

“Let’s begin,” Jue Bu said simply.

He did not raise his voice, yet it carried effortlessly throughout the dome.

“I will act as intermediary between factions. The purpose of the World Council is to resolve matters through dialogue rather than violence.”

A faint pause followed.

“During the session of this Council, only I am permitted to wield violence. Should anyone fail to abide by this rule, consider your life forfeit.”

A murmur rippled faintly across the lower tiers.

Jue Bu continued calmly, “Do not worry. I will resurrect you promptly. After which, you will face charges appropriate to your rank.”

Silence descended.

Ren Xun felt a bead of cold sweat trail down his back.

Was that excessive?

Was Jue Bu perhaps not acting?

Then again, Da Wei had always been unapologetically absolute. Strength defined order. Mercy followed control.

“As matters of national address, I have nothing to say,” Jue Bu declared coolly. “The Holy Empire stands to gain nothing by babysitting every one of you. Consider it your honor that I waste my precious time presiding over this function and ensuring procedure is observed.”

A faint tightening appeared at the corners of several Primary seats, but no one interrupted.

“The Primaries will take over discussion moving forward. An agenda may only conclude when every Primary has agreed to it. If there are political machinations or private agreements to be made, do so outside this chamber. Everyone’s time here is precious.”

Ren Xun recognized every line.

He had drafted them personally with his father. The intent was clear. The Council would not devolve into endless bickering or hidden deals disguised as formal debate. It would function as a stage for transparency, not conspiracy.

“I seek this Council to be nothing more than announcements and revelations of policy,” Jue Bu continued. “Transparency promotes cooperation. Cooperation ensures prosperity.”

His gaze swept the chamber.

“If I deem an agenda to be nonsense or a waste of time, I will inform you. You will stop. Should you wish to test my patience, you may raise an appeal with the recommendation of a Secondary, followed by a vote from the Tertiary.”

A calculated balance.

Absolute authority at the top, yet procedural pathways below to preserve dignity.

Ren Xun felt a small measure of relief. So far, everything followed the script.

“If you wish to speak,” Jue Bu concluded, “raise your hand. Upon my permission, you may address the World Council. Now, begin.”

There was a brief stillness.

Then Tao Long raised his hand.

Ren Xun’s stomach twisted again.

“Permission granted,” Jue Bu said.

Tao Long rose calmly. “I wish to step down from my position as Primary and put forth another candidate. His name is Mao Xian.”

The name detonated across the chamber.

The Secondary and Tertiary tiers erupted into uproar immediately. Murmurs turned into open exclamations. Some stood halfway from their seats in disbelief.

The doors opened.

Mao Xian walked in without hurry, robes immaculate, expression composed. He looked utterly unbothered by the hostility radiating toward him.

Yi Qiu’s jaw tightened visibly. Tian En’s gaze turned cold.

Mao Xian had been one of the key figures involved in the events that led to the Summit’s collapse, the very crisis that forced Da Wei to sunder it when a goddess from outside the Hollowed World suddenly crashed the same Summit.

This was not in Ren Xun’s script.

Not even remotely.

Jue Bu leaned slightly forward on the Holy Throne, voice even. “State your reason for recommending him and stepping down. If you intended such a move, you could have done so outside the Council. Why now?”

Ren Xun’s mind raced.

He had believed that with Shouquan and Tao Long aligned with the Holy Emperor’s circle, they held enough influence to stabilize proceedings. He now realized the flaw in that assumption.

There were no true sides beyond the Holy Empire itself.

The Martial Alliance was loyal to its own interests. The Federation followed its own ideology. The remnants of the Heavenly Temple and the Union harbored their own agendas.

Even those considered the Holy Emperor’s people were not extensions of Ren Xun’s will.

Outside the Empire’s inner circle, everyone was their own faction.

Tao Long bowed slightly. “Because it would be unfair to the other factions.”

A ripple of confusion passed through the chamber.

“My master and I share a close connection,” Tao Long continued. “If two Primaries share the same voice, what remains for the others? To ensure balance, I propose that anyone who rises to the position of Primary must not share intimate ties with another Primary. No blood relations. No romantic bonds. No master-disciple relationships.”

The implications settled like a heavy fog.

This was about structural independence. It was about preventing blocs of power from forming within the Council. If such a rule passed, it would permanently sever certain internal alignments within the Holy Emperor’s circle. It would force visible distance between allies.

Jue Bu’s gaze shifted across the six Primary seats.

“Do the other Primaries agree?” he asked calmly.

Ren Xun barely had time to process Tao Long’s declaration before Shouquan rose from his seat.

“I agree with my disciple,” Shouquan said calmly. “This is the best opportunity to reveal this. I am stepping down as Primary of Ward and putting Tao Long forward as candidate. It is time for me to enter seclusion.”

The chamber erupted again.

Shock rippled through every tier. Even the Secondary members failed to conceal their disbelief. Shouquan stepping down was not a minor adjustment. It was the quiet withdrawal of one of the stabilizing pillars of the new order, unlike Tao Long or Mao Xian who could be said as a new face in the cultivation world.

Ren Xun felt his thoughts stall. This was not merely unexpected. It was destabilizing.

“I agree,” echoed Liu Yana.

“I agree,” Tian En followed.

Others voiced assent in measured tones.

Only one voice cut against the tide.

“I object,” Yi Qiu said flatly.

Jue Bu leaned slightly forward upon the Holy Throne. “State your reasoning, Yi Qiu.”

Yi Qiu did not hesitate. “Mao Xian is a criminal who instigated the sundering of the Summit. He invited strange Outsider forces that would have threatened the entire Hollowed World if not for Your Holy Majesty’s intervention. I am certain you see the issue. Is it wise to accept someone like him into the World Council after everything that transpired?”

Murmurs of agreement spread through parts of the chamber.

Ren Xun could not deny the logic. The Summit’s collapse had nearly plunged the world into chaos. The wounds were still fresh, though not as fresh as the World War they just went through.

Jue Bu answered without visible irritation. He drew from the shared memories Da Wei had entrusted to him.

“I remember clearly,” he said. “I also remember that during the World War, this young man raised soaring boats with his master. He helped repair the flying city of New Willow. He bled for my people.”

His gaze shifted briefly toward Mao Xian.

“At minimum, he has earned consideration for forgiveness.”

A pause followed.

“However, I see your concern. What do you say, Tao Long?”

Tao Long bowed slightly. “If I had a more competent candidate, I would present them before you, Your Majesty. The truth is that Mao Xian was the original master of the Adventurer’s Guild. If this Council finds his reinstatement impossible, then I request the removal of the Adventurer’s Guild from the Primary seats entirely.”

A wave of tension swept through the Primaries.

“I intend to return the Guild to him regardless,” Tao Long continued evenly. “Even if it earns Your Majesty’s displeasure. I wish to return to Ward, where I believe I can serve best.”

Ren Xun’s mind sharpened instantly.

That could not happen.

The Adventurer’s Guild was the backbone of the player population’s integration. The strange beings summoned through the remnants of the Source relied on its quest systems, ranking structures, and logistical network. Without the Guild’s representation at the highest level, coordination would fracture.

They could not afford that instability.

Ren Xun raised his hand.

Jue Bu’s gaze fell on him. “Speak.”

“I propose probation,” Ren Xun said carefully. “Allow Mao Xian to assume the Primary seat under scrutiny. If he falters, removal can follow through due process.”

It was compromise.

Not forgiveness. Not absolution. A leash.

Jue Bu’s eyes shifted to Yi Qiu.

Yi Qiu exhaled slowly. “Fine.”

The word carried reluctance but also acceptance of the Council’s direction.

Mao Xian stepped forward and bowed deeply toward the Holy Throne. “I shall do my utmost, Your Majesty.”

The crisis settled, though not entirely.

Then Liu Yana raised her hand.

Ren Xun felt a flicker of dread. He was hoping they’d just discuss resource allocation or the like, but that didn’t seem the case.

“Since we are addressing past grievances,” she began coolly, “I question the sanity and logic behind the Heavenly Temple having representation here.”

Tian En’s expression hardened slightly. “Not the Heavenly Temple,” she clarified. “The reformed members of it.”

“An enemy nonetheless,” Liu Yana replied. “Recent academic revelations have enlightened me on much about the Heavenly Temple’s past actions. I am inclined to believe your faction is not to be trusted.”

Her eyes locked onto Tian En.

“I propose the impeachment of Primary Tian En. What contributions did she make to justify standing among us?”

The words struck cleanly.

Ren Xun suppressed a sigh.

This was the topic he had hoped to postpone until the end of the session, when tempers might be cooler and political capital more stable.

Tian En had not been active during the war’s height. She had been exiled and suppressed by the very Temple she now represented in reformed form. Her connection to Shouquan had led to accusations of imperial favoritism from her own people.

Her political footing was fragile.

And now it was being tested openly.

The World Council had convened for less than an hour, and already two pillars were under scrutiny.

Tian En did not flinch under Liu Yana’s scrutiny.

Instead, she leaned forward slightly, her tone sharpening into something almost provocative.

“Then I need only offer a contribution equivalent to your efforts during the war, correct?” she asked evenly. “How about a method to reach the Eleventh Realm without suffering the insanity born from the Age of Calamity?”

For a split second, the chamber did not react.

Then it exploded.

The Secondary seats erupted first, cultivators rising halfway from their chairs. The Tertiary tier followed in waves of disbelief and hungry whispers. Even several Primaries stiffened visibly.

A method to bypass the madness.

The Eleventh Realm was a threshold few dared approach since the Age of Calamity. Those who forced their way upward often fractured mentally, becoming unstable, paranoid, or worse. Entire sects had collapsed because their leaders pursued that peak recklessly.

If Tian En spoke truth, she was not offering a policy.

She was offering revolution.

“Silence!”

Jue Bu’s voice thundered across the dome, amplified not by technique but by sheer authority.

The noise died instantly.

The murals behind the Holy Throne seemed to loom larger in the sudden stillness.

Jue Bu surveyed the chamber with a cold, measuring gaze.

“Firstly,” he said, tone clipped, “Tao Long is no longer the Primary of the Adventurer’s Guild. He represents Ward. Shouquan, you are relieved of your duties effective immediately.”

Shouquan inclined his head without protest.

“Mao Xian,” Jue Bu continued, “you are now the Primary of the Adventurer’s Guild.”

Mao Xian bowed again, solemn this time.

“As for you, Tian En,” Jue Bu said, eyes narrowing slightly, “to avoid confusion between your faction and its predecessor, I suggest you reconsider your name. The past will not be erased simply because you claim reform.”

Tian En held his gaze and nodded once.

“And Liu Yana,” Jue Bu added, voice turning sharper, “I expect no further disruptive conduct. Political challenges are permitted. Reckless incitement is not. Do I make myself clear?”

Liu Yana lowered her head slightly. “I apologize, Your Majesty.”

The response was measured, but Ren Xun could see the calculation behind her eyes.

He remained utterly silent.

His hands rested calmly atop the armrests of his seat, but internally his thoughts churned. His stress climbed rapidly, pressing against his composure.

The Council had barely begun and already the structure he had so carefully drafted was being stress-tested from every direction.

A probationary Primary with a controversial past.

A former pillar stepping into seclusion.

A proposal that could overturn the cultivation landscape.

And the Federation openly testing boundaries.

Ren Xun realized something with uncomfortable clarity.

Da Wei’s presence had united the Hollowed World through overwhelming strength. That strength had forced cooperation.

Now, within this dome, they were attempting something far more fragile.

Governance without constant violence.

He inhaled slowly and forced his thoughts into order.

If Tian En truly possessed such a method, the balance of power would shift overnight. Sects would flock to her banner. The reformed Temple would gain legitimacy instantly. The Federation would not remain quiet. Neither would the Martial Alliance.

Ren Xun kept his expression neutral, as befitted a Primary of the Dragon Court.

Inside, however, he felt as though he were standing at the edge of another war.

Only this time, the battlefield was made of words.