Immortal Paladin

It had been a terrible battle.

Entire continents had been overturned like loose stones, their foundations exposed and shattered. Oceans had boiled into nothingness, their waters evaporated into violent storms that never settled. What life once thrived across the Hollowed World had been caught in the crossfire, erased without distinction as forces far beyond them clashed without restraint.

The Origin King had unleashed everything.

Immortal Arts after Immortal Arts, Laws stacked and intertwined until even the natural order of the Hollowed World began to fracture under the strain. The sky no longer followed any recognizable pattern, celestial bodies shifting unnaturally as if unsure of their own paths. Storms formed and collapsed within moments, and the very concept of time seemed inconsistent in certain regions.

Our exchanges had been no less brutal.

Every spell I cast was met with a counter, suppressed by a Law, or twisted into something I had to immediately defend against. Every advantage I gained was contested, every opening contested even harder. The Warden’s presence had tipped the scale, but even then, the Origin King fought like something that refused to accept defeat as a possibility.

Despite being outnumbered, he never faltered in intent.

He fought to destroy.

The battle stretched on for forty-six days without pause, without reprieve, without a single moment where the pressure truly lifted.

And now?

It was finally over.

My breathing came out harsh and uneven, each inhale dragging in heat and dust from what used to be an ocean. The vast body of water had long since vanished, replaced by an endless desert of dark, scorched sand that still radiated the leftovers of our power.

I was still standing, but barely.

Starshroud whimpered softly, her presence weakened as the armor slowly began to repair itself. I fed her Divine Qi steadily, feeling the fractures mend bit by bit as she clung to functionality.

“…You did well,” I murmured under my breath.

Ahead of me, the Origin King lay embedded into the sands, his body half-melted into the surface itself. His once radiant form had been reduced to something broken, unstable, and fading. Even then, there was a presence to him. It was faint, but still there.

Above us, the Warden hovered.

In his true form, he was something else entirely. Lunar armor encased his colossal body, blue flames licking from its seams, while solar brilliance burned beneath, threatening to spill outward at any moment. The sky itself had taken on his colors of blue, white, red, and orange blending into a shifting tapestry that radiated overwhelming authority.

His voice descended like judgment.

“DA WEI. THIS IS THE LAST TIME YOU WILL TAKE ADVANTAGE OF MY BOUND DUTY.”

The air trembled as he continued, each word carrying weight beyond mere sound.

“MY PURPOSE HAS ALWAYS BEEN CLEAR. I GUARD THE CRIMINAL—THE SUPREME VOID. THE MATTERS OF THIS WORLD, ITS WARS, ITS CONFLICTS… THEY DO NOT CONCERN ME.”

The flames around him flared slightly, heat intensifying.

“YOU HAVE FORCED MY HAND ONCE. THERE WILL NOT BE A SECOND TIME.”

A pause followed, heavy and absolute.

“ATTEMPT THIS AGAIN, AND I WILL INCINERATE YOU… AND YOUR EMPIRE… WITHOUT HESITATION.”

That was the most I had ever heard him speak.

Before I could respond, his form shifted.

In a single instant, the Sun and Moon separated from him, splitting cleanly as his immense presence dissolved. The two celestial bodies drifted toward one another, their movements slow at first, then accelerating with undeniable intent.

They met.

What followed was… unexpected.

They pressed together like long-separated lovers, their radiance intertwining in a display that felt strangely intimate despite the scale. Light spilled across the sky in waves, their connection lingering just a moment longer than necessary, as if reluctant to part.

I blinked once.

“…Didn’t expect that.”

When they finally separated, they drifted back to their respective paths, restoring the sky to something closer to normal.

Silence followed.

I turned back to the Origin King.

“Now,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt, “it’s just us.”

The Warden’s strength lingered in my mind. Even now, I could feel the remnants of that overwhelming force, the way it had crushed through Laws as if they were suggestions rather than absolutes. The fight had demanded endurance above all else, and that was something I had in abundance.

The Origin King stirred slightly, his voice hoarse but still carrying that familiar edge.

“You… stole it…”

I raised an eyebrow slightly.

“The favor of the Origin… it was mine. You took it. That is why… you won.”

I let out a quiet breath, unimpressed.

“Stop acting like a sore loser,” I replied evenly. “Every layer of your immortality has already been stripped away.”

He coughed, blood spilling from his lips as he forced out another response.

“If it had only been you… I would not have lost.”

“I know,” I said without hesitation. “That’s exactly why I did it this way.”

I glanced upward briefly, as if considering something beyond him.

“Honestly, I didn’t expect the Warden to be able to negate Laws entirely. That part was… enlightening.” My gaze returned to him, sharper now. “So I have to thank you. Watching you fight gave me a glimpse of what that kind of power looks like.”

I took a step closer.

“The more I understand, the safer I am.”

With that, I reached into my pocket dimension and pulled out the Key.

Or rather, both halves of it.

They were still broken, the fracture between them jagged and incomplete. I poured quintessence into them, forcing the pieces back together. The connection resisted at first, then stabilized, forming a single object once more.

I held it up between us.

“Now,” I said calmly, “tell me how to use this.”

His reaction was immediate.

Even in his state, anger flared within his eyes.

“That is not just some key… you ignorant fool.”

His voice strained, but the intensity remained.

“That is the Origin Key. It does not merely open, but defines ‘access’ itself. It can open anything… and seal anything just the same.”

His breathing grew more uneven, but he continued.

“I needed it… to free the vessel of the Origin. The one hidden here… sealed away by the Supreme Void and the Lost Gods.”

The air stilled slightly around us.

“And now… you’ve taken it.”

It sounded far too overpowered.

For a brief moment, I considered keeping it. The Origin Key was not just powerful, it was foundational in a way that made everything else I possessed seem conditional. The Hollow Star amplified, the Dark Veil concealed and dominated, but this… this defined access itself. It could open anything and seal anything, which meant it could reshape the structure of power entirely.

That was exactly why it had to go.

“Immortal Art: Godslayer.”

I closed my hand.

The twenty-seven layers of immortality I had stolen from the Origin King ignited within me, reinforcing the act as I crushed the Key in my palm. It resisted for a fraction of a second, something within it attempting to hold form, but it wasn’t enough. The structure collapsed, its authority breaking apart under the force I exerted.

The Origin King’s reaction was immediate.

“What have you done…?”

His voice cracked, no longer carrying the same weight it once had.

“You fool… you absolute fool. Do you have any idea what you just destroyed? That was not yours to break. You’ve ruined everything… everything. You think this ends here? You think you’ve won anything at all?”

He tried to rise, but his body failed him.

“Ignorant… shortsighted… you’ve doomed yourself along with the rest of them.”

I stepped closer, looking down at what remained of him.

“With you gone,” I said evenly, “Losten might actually have a chance to recover.”

I didn’t wait for another response.

Through my Divine Zone, I invoked the end.

A Heavenly Punishment descended, not from above, but from within him. A golden sword manifested inside his body and erupted outward, tearing through him in a violent burst of divine force. I watched carefully through my Ophanim, tracking every fragment, every fluctuation, ensuring there were no hidden contingencies left unaccounted for.

There were none.

His body came apart in a spray of gore, the remains scattering across the scorched desert. What little persisted began to break down almost immediately, dissolving into motes of qi that drifted into the surrounding world.

I didn’t trust it.

Not with him.

I reinforced the end, striking his decomposing essence repeatedly through my Divine Zone, layering multiple Divine Smites until there was nothing left to target, nothing left to anchor a return.

Only then did I stop.

With a single bound, I rose into the sky.

The world beneath me stretched endlessly, barren and reshaped beyond recognition. What had once been oceans was now desert, what had once been thriving land reduced to jagged silhouettes of mountains and scorched plains.

Silence dominated everything.

During the battle, I had gathered the souls of those caught in the aftermath. The Dark Veil had absorbed them instinctively, preserving what would have otherwise been lost to the scale of destruction we unleashed. The phrase surfaced in my mind unbidden, something I had picked up somewhere along the way. When giants fought, it was the small that suffered.

It felt appropriate.

The pathway between the Hollowed World and Losten had been destroyed in the conflict, severed completely. That meant what I wouldn’t be able to return to Losten just as swiftly, though that hardly mattered anymore.

I reached outward and poured Divine Qi to the world.

“Divine Word: Raise.”

Life returned.

Across the ruined expanse, forms began to reappear. Bodies reconstituted, scattered existences pulled back together from the fragments I had preserved. Different races, different settlements, countless individuals who had been erased in the wake of our power were restored in waves.

There were many.

Far more than I would have preferred to account for.

As they became aware, as their senses returned and they saw me suspended above them, the reaction was immediate.

They knelt.

All of them.

And then they began to pray.

Faith surged upward, raw and unfiltered, flowing into me with an intensity that felt almost invasive. It carried gratitude, fear, desperation, reverence, all tangled together into something overwhelming.

“Radiant Divine Immortal, please… forgive us.”

“Spare us, we beg of you. We did not mean to offend.”

“Thank you… thank you for granting us life again. We will serve, we will obey.”

“Why… why did this happen…? Please, grant us absolution.”

Some wept openly, their voices breaking as they pressed their heads to the ground.

“Radiant Divine Immortal, we are yours. Guide us, forgive us, save us.”

Others trembled, fear dominating their expressions even as they prayed.

A few… resisted.

“This is wrong… this is all wrong…”

Even then, they knelt, their anger twisted into reluctant worship born from hysteria. The contradiction in their reactions only made the flow of faith stronger. I looked down at them, feeling the weight of it settle over me.

I had killed them.

Now they worshipped me for bringing them back.

The thought lingered longer than I liked.

For a moment, I considered telling them the truth plainly, that they had done nothing wrong and that I was the one who should be asking for forgiveness. The words almost formed, but the Ophanim reacted immediately, spinning as it presented a cascade of outcomes.

None of them ended well.

Corruption.

Distortion.

A loss of control that began with something as simple as misplaced humility.

I let the thought go.

There was nothing simple about this anymore. Even something as straightforward as an apology had consequences that extended far beyond the moment. I exhaled slowly, recalling a past conversation, one where I had criticized Ao Lun about the nature of godhood. The memory surfaced with uncomfortable clarity.

Now I stood here, doing exactly what I once dismissed.

“…Right.”

I straightened slightly, my voice carrying across the vast expanse as I addressed them.

“Head north. You will find my Empire there.”

Their attention sharpened instantly.

“From this point onward, those within it are your people, just as you are theirs. Take care of one another. Survive what comes next together.”

I paused briefly, letting the words settle.

“The path ahead will not be easy. Rely on the person beside you. Face what comes with them, not alone.”

My gaze swept across the countless figures below.

“Go. You have my blessing. Find your place in this world.”

With that, I extended my power again.

“Bless.”

Quintessence from the Hollow Star poured into the spell, amplifying it beyond its standard limits. It spread across them in a wide wave, embedding itself into their existence, subtly enhancing their luck, their resilience, their potential.

The reaction was immediate.

“Thank you, Radiant Divine Immortal. We will not forget this grace.”

“We are yours to guide. May your light never fade.”

“Blessed be the Radiant Divine Immortal. Blessed be our savior.”

The prayers grew louder, more fervent, their faith intensifying as it continued to flow upward.

I decided to leave them before their devotion rooted them in place. If I lingered any longer, they would remain kneeling, praying, waiting for something more from me instead of moving forward as I instructed.

“Egress.”

Space folded, and the ruined expanse of the Hollowed World vanished. I reappeared in my office back in New Willow, the familiar structure grounding me after weeks of relentless conflict.

What I didn’t expect… was the scene in front of me.

I stopped at the doorway, staring.

Jue Bu had Ye Yong pressed lightly against the edge of my desk, his posture far too relaxed for anything resembling professionalism. One arm was braced beside her, effectively boxing her in, while she leaned back just enough to meet his gaze without retreating. Their faces were close, close enough that whatever they were saying was clearly meant for each other alone.

Jue Bu’s grin was shameless.

“You keep looking at me like that, Captain Ye. Makes a man think you’re asking for trouble.”

Ye Yong didn’t back down. If anything, her eyes sharpened, a faint smirk tugging at her lips.

“And here I thought you were all talk, Lord Jue. Should I be disappointed?”

Their tone was light, teasing, but the air between them carried a tension that didn’t belong in a war room.

I cleared my throat loudly.

They broke apart instantly.

Both of them straightened, composure snapping back into place so quickly it was almost impressive. Ye Yong turned first, her expression smoothing into something neutral, though there was a faint stiffness to it.

“This is not what it looks like,” she said, then hesitated briefly. “Uhm… excuse me, Lord Wei.”

She left before I could respond.

I watched her go, noting the difference. The same Ye Yong who used to look at me like I hung the stars now couldn’t even hold my gaze for more than a second.

“…Huh.”

Maybe that wasn’t the worst outcome.

Behind me, Jue Bu clicked his tongue in annoyance.

“You just had to walk in at that exact moment, didn’t you? I was this close.”

I turned slowly.

“…Close to what?”

He gestured vaguely, completely unbothered.

“Close to getting her to loosen up a bit. You have any idea how hard it is to get someone like her to drop that serious act?”

Then he puffed his chest slightly, clearly pleased with himself.

“This body helps, obviously. Good face, good presence. Makes people say yes without thinking too hard about it.”

I just stared at him.

“What did you do?”

A pause.

“Oh, Jue Bu… you were supposed to act as my double when I’m gone.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Please don’t tell me I have a hedonistic reputation now.”

He scoffed, waving it off.

“Relax. The women I deal with know I’m not actually you. That includes all of the Night Blades, a few from the Guardians’ top roster, and even some from the Dragon’s Court.”

My fist clenched.

“…Doesn’t that sound like a lot?”

Before I could continue, the door opened again.

“Lord Wei!”

Ren Xun entered quickly, relief evident on his face. “You’re back. Do you have news of my son?”

I exhaled, letting the previous topic rest for now.

“I found Hei Mao,” I said. “As for Ren Zhe, I’ll continue searching. I won’t stop until I locate him.”

He nodded, tension easing slightly.

Then I glanced back at Jue Bu.

“…Please tell me he hasn’t been too much of a problem.”

Ren Xun hesitated, then answered carefully.

“He performs his duties well as a mediator within the World Council. His… behavior, however, is less desirable.” He coughed lightly. “Most of the Primaries are aware he is not truly you, but they play along for appearances. Your reputation carries weight, and it ensures negotiations proceed smoothly.”

That didn’t sound reassuring.

“I’m sorry, Lord Wei,” he added. “I try to keep an eye on him, but… I believe you’ve developed a rather unusual reputation recently.”

I felt a flicker of unease.

“What kind of reputation?”

He suppressed a laugh, though it still slipped through slightly.

“You are widely regarded as the most romantic individual in the world.”

I blinked.

“…That’s it?”

That didn’t sound nearly as bad as I expected. Then I turned my head slowly toward Jue Bu, who was casually picking at his teeth with his nail, completely unbothered.

“…How did that even happen?”

Ren Xun cleared his throat, clearly trying not to smile.

“There were… incidents. He visited several courtesan establishments and ended up criticizing their standards rather harshly. Some were forced to improve their conditions afterward. In other cases, he gave unsolicited advice on relationships, which somehow led to successful matches among civilians.”

He paused briefly.

“There were also instances where he arranged introductions between influential figures, resolving disputes through… personal connections.”

I stared at him.

“…He what?”

Ren Xun continued, almost apologetically.

“He has, in several cases, improved the quality of life for common citizens through these actions. The perception is that you are deeply invested in the emotional well-being of your people.”

Silence lingered for a moment, and then I looked at Jue Bu again.

“Jue Bu… what is wrong with you? I mean, you did a good job, but…”

He shrugged, completely unapologetic.

“I was bored.”

I exhaled slowly.

“…Right.”

At least, it wasn’t destructive.

I turned back to Ren Xun, shifting to something more immediate.

“I’ll be leaving again soon. I only came back to inform you of a few things.” I gestured vaguely. “I may have… destroyed a few continents while fighting someone extremely strong. The Warden also made an appearance.”

I paused, then added flatly, “There are currently millions of displaced people as a result. Send teams to retrieve them and bring them into the Empire.”

Ren Xun stared at me, completely deadpan.

Behind me, Jue Bu burst into laughter.

“Ha ha ha ha ha! You really should’ve started with that!”