Immortal Paladin

The laws of the Hollowed World were absolute.

Whenever a higher existence descended upon that world, they did not arrive in their true splendor. They could not! Instead, they suppressed themselves, forcing their vast, incomprehensible power down to the level of a Tenth or Eleventh Realm cultivator. It was a pattern long observed first during the invasion led by Aixin, then again during Conquest’s careful infiltration. Neither had dared to step beyond that threshold.

The reason was the Warden.

It was not a name spoken lightly, nor an entity understood clearly. It did not patrol the skies nor sit upon a throne. It simply was, ever-present, ever-watching. And when something too large, too loud, or too arrogant entered its domain without restraint, it responded.

Destruction followed.

There were exceptions, of course. Natives of the Hollowed World were not bound by this invisible scrutiny. They could rise, fall, traverse realms, and even return from beyond without drawing its ire. This peculiar exemption extended further to those born of False Earth and Radiant Losten, places now intertwined with the Hollowed World’s existence.

Thus, figures such as Da Wei moved freely, untouched by the suffocating pressure that crippled outsiders.

The same was true for Da Ji of False Earth and Alice of Radiant Losten.

Though both stood at the peak of the Eleventh Realm, the Perfect Immortal, and had already begun walking the path of the Ascended Soul, they passed between worlds without consequence. The Warden did not so much as glance at them.

But how powerful was the Warden?

No one could say with certainty.

Da Wei, the Holy Emperor, had once theorized that it stood at least at the level of a Ruler of Laws, an existence capable of governing the very principles of reality. Yet this remained speculation. The cultivators of the Hollowed World were simply too fragile, too limited, to test such a theory. To provoke the Warden deliberately would not result in discovery. Instead, it would result only in annihilation.

Still, there were incidents.

Recent memory recalled the moment the Origin King was cast into the Hollowed World. Unable to suppress his cultivation or conceal his presence, he had been exposed.

The Warden had answered.

The clash that followed was brief, violent, and absolute. The Origin King, a being of terrifying stature, had been reduced to a smear on the dirt, helpless and unable to overcome the obstacle that stopped his conquest of the Radiant Losten forever.

And further back, there was Aixin.

When she clawed her way through the Dark Veil, attempting to force her whole existence into the Hollowed World, the reaction had been catastrophic. The heavens themselves had seemed to descend in fury. The Warden’s manifestation had boiled oceans with its mere presence, reality trembling as it unleashed something disturbingly close to rage, a tantrum of overwhelming force.

Both incidents shared a common thread in Da Wei.

Whether by intent or consequence, his actions had drawn the attention of higher existences and, in doing so, had summoned the Warden to respond. It was a dangerous pattern, one that bordered on reckless manipulation of forces beyond comprehension.

This time, however, was different.

Da Ji had made certain of it.

She had pleaded with her twin brother, her voice stripped of pride and layered with urgency, forbidding him from even considering such a ‘trick’ again. The memory of the Warden’s last warning lingered heavily; that should he repeat such actions, his Empire would not survive the aftermath.

For once, Da Wei listened.

Rare and uncharacteristic restraint guided his decision.

Which begged the question?

What was Famine and War doing in the Hollowed World? Why, then, were Famine and War suppressed so severely upon their arrival in the Hollowed World? Why had their immense power been crushed down all the way to the Ascended Soul?

At this point, Da Wei had to be playing with fire, right?

But no, he had a plan.

The answer lay with the land itself.

Radiant Losten.

When that world had been integrated into the Hollowed World, it had not come quietly. Its ancient and absolute laws bled into the greater whole. A suppression unlike any other spread outward, subtle yet undeniable. No matter the origin, no matter the height one had reached, all cultivation was forced downward and capped at the peak of the Perfect Immortal. Even gods, should they descend, would find themselves shackled by this unseen decree.

And so, when Famine and War arrived, Warden did not find them.

…

..

.

[POV: Ren Xun]

On a distant face of the Hollowed World, a battle unfolded with a tension that pressed against the very air.

Ren Xun stood at the forefront, his youthful face calm yet taut with focus, dragon-forged armor clinging to his frame. The floating dragon scales around him shimmered faintly, each one inscribed with intricate formations.

Beside him stood Nongmin, the Final Emperor. Zai Ai lingered nearby, her light armor barely concealing the countless mechanisms hidden within her reach, while Da Ji radiated a quiet and chilling grace.

Before them stood Famine.

It was an existence that defied reason. Its torso was gone, replaced by a writhing black void that devoured even light. At its center, a scale floated in eerie balance, unmoving despite the chaos surrounding it. In its hand rested a spear, held loosely, as if the weapon itself were beneath its notice.

“OH. HOW. BORING.”

Beneath Famine’s feet, the crater trembled. Stones and fragments of earth began to rise, slowly peeling away from gravity as though reality itself had lost interest in holding them down. It was fortunate that Nongmin’s divination had been precise about where Famine would land. More than that, the Ophanim had narrowed the margin of error. Without those preparations, they would not have even found this thing, let alone faced it.

Still, finding it was the easiest part.

“Grandfather,” Ren Xun said, his voice steady, “are you certain you want me to take command?”

Nongmin gave a faint, almost amused snort. “Please. I’m retired. And I don’t think I can fight something like that.”

Zai Ai did not hesitate to add, “The two of us are only at the Tenth Realm. If we engage directly, we’ll only get in the way.”

That left one.

Da Ji stepped forward, her silver hair swaying lightly as her gaze fixed on Famine. “Then I will hold its attention,” she said calmly. “I am the only one here with an Immortal Art. Ren Xun, I leave the rest to you.”

Ren Xun did not look at her, his eyes still locked onto their enemy. “Don’t go big,” he reminded. “We’re not here to win. Only to stall.”

A faint smile touched her lips. “I will heed your words.”

Behind her, nine tails unfurled as manifestations of power. Each one elongated, sharpened, detached, and transformed into a massive sword, frost gathering along their edges until the surrounding air itself began to crystallize.

Ren Xun moved at the same time.

The floating dragon scales around him dispersed, vanishing into an illusion array so seamless it left no trace. Beneath that concealment, formation after formation layered into the battlefield, becoming parts of a bigger whole. He positioned himself close to Da Ji.

“Grandfather. Lady Zai Ai,” he said, voice low but firm, “we proceed as planned.”

They had prepared for this.

They could only trust that it would be enough.

Zai Ai responded first. With a flick of her wrist, fragments of metal poured from her pocket dimension, assembling midair into the form of an enormous mechanical bird. Its wings spread wide, humming with suppressed power.

Nongmin leapt onto it without a word, followed by Zai Ai.

In the next instant, the construct vanished, swallowed by an illusion far more intricate than anything Ren Xun had deployed.

They were gone.

“HOW. DO. YOU. WISH. TO. DIE?”

Famine’s voice was not loud, yet it reverberated through the world like a verdict. Its spear struck the ground, and the earth answered. Massive rock spires erupted violently, tearing upward in jagged clusters meant to impale everything in their path. The ground became a forest of stone in an instant.

Da Ji moved first.

One of her frost swords shot beneath her feet, carrying her upward in a streak of silver light, narrowly escaping the eruption.

Ren Xun vanished. His body sank into the earth itself, carried by an Earth Formation Spell woven through his hidden scales. The ground became his ocean, flowing around him as he maneuvered unseen. He reappeared in silence just behind Famine at its blind spot.

“Come forth… Zhou Yong.”

The name echoed like a summoning decree.

The heavens stirred.

Clouds twisted violently as a colossal golden dragon descended, its form crackling with the fury of Heavenly Tribulation. Lightning coiled around its body, the sky itself seeming to fracture as it plunged downward.

It struck Ren Xun and Famine. The impact was blinding, with lightning exploding upon contact, the force of it tearing through the battlefield in a violent cascade. Ren Xun did not pause. He reached forward, grasping the descending dragon. Its form collapsed inward, compressing, condensing, until it became a massive crescent spear in his hand, its edge humming with destructive power.

“DODGE! HE’S FAKING IT!”

Zhou Yong’s voice rang sharply.

Ren Xun reacted without question.

The scattered formations hidden within his scales activated instantly. Lightning surged inward, pulling him away through magnetic force. A fraction too late, and he could’ve died. A massive gash tore through the space where he had stood. From within that gaping wound through the earth, flesh pulsed grotesquely. Countless, bulging, and writhing eyes forced themselves into existence, staring in every direction before unleashing searing beams of light.

Destruction rained outward.

But before it could reach Ren Xun, blades descended from elsewhere.

Da Ji’s swords intercepted the barrage, frost clashing against burning beams as she re-entered the battlefield from above. Her movements were fluid, precise, each strike measured to deflect rather than overpower.

That had been far too close.

Ren Xun felt his heart hammering against his ribs, each beat sharp and unsteady despite the discipline he had honed over centuries. The image of that tearing gash lingered in his mind like a scar that had yet to form.

Through Qi Speech, his voice cut across distance without sound.

“Please tell me you are done already…”

A breath of silence, and then Nongmin answered, calm as ever.

“We are in position. The formation is prepared.”

Zai Ai followed immediately, her tone brisk but certain.

“All components are set. Just bring it together.”

Ren Xun exhaled slowly, forcing his pulse to steady.

“Good.”

There was no room left for hesitation.

He turned his attention to Da Ji, his will threading through Qi Speech once more.

“Proceed to phase two.”

Da Ji’s nine swords trembled, then aligned behind her as her presence surged. The air distorted, the world bending as something vast began to manifest.

“Immortal Art: World Devouring Maw.”

Behind her, a colossal mirage of a fox emerged. It was ancient, immeasurable, its jaws opening as a terrifying suction force erupted outward. The battlefield screamed as debris, shattered earth, and even light itself seemed to be dragged toward it.

Famine laughed.

“YOU. CALL. THIS. DEVOURING?”

Its voice warped the very air.

The spear in its hand struck the ground once more.

“Devour.”

Ren Xun’s eyes widened.

“RETREAT! HE’S USING A LAW!”

It was too late to counter. The black hole within Famine’s torso pulsed, then expanded in presence, if not in size. The pull was absolute. Da Ji’s devouring force was swallowed instantly, crushed beneath something far more fundamental. The land itself began to collapse. Mountains crumbled. The earth fractured. Everything was dragged toward that endless void, as though the concept of resistance had been erased.

Ren Xun gritted his teeth, forcing his body against the pull.

“We have to do this before his law destroys the formation!”

Nongmin’s voice came, unwavering.

“I am in position, already!”

Zai Ai followed, sharper this time.

“Just get in your position!”

Ren Xun moved. His figure flickered and then vanished. Zealot’s Stride carried him across the collapsing battlefield in broken flashes, each step defying the crushing pull of Famine’s law. Space twisted around him as he forced his way toward the final point.

“I am in position,” Da Ji’s voice echoed, steady despite the chaos.

One by one, they aligned.

Ren Xun arrived last. Before him lay the formation prepared by Nongmin and Zai Ai, etched hastily yet flawlessly along a dragon vein, its lines pulsing with unstable brilliance. It was fragile. Incomplete in endurance, if not in design. They would not get a second chance, so he have to make it right.

“I AM IN POSITION!”

The moment converged.

Four points.

Four wills.

Four pillars.

In perfect unison, their voices resonated through heaven and earth—

“HEAVENLY FOUR PILLARS SEALING FORMATION!”

Light erupted. The formation ignited, its structure anchoring itself to the very veins of the world. Power surged between them, linking dragon, tool, emperor, and immortal into a single, unified construct. It was an evolution of something ancient. A failed legacy, reforged! Once, such a formation had been used to seal the Heavenly Demon and had failed. But that enemy had been a whole Supreme Being, bound by destiny itself.

Famine was not whole.

It was a fragment.

This formation had been perfected over time and couldn’t compare to its predecessor.

At each corner, manifestations rose.

Behind Ren Xun, a dragon coiled into existence, its form vast and imposing.

Behind Zai Ai, a golden Buddha emerged, serene yet unyielding.

Above Nongmin, an immense eye opened, its gaze piercing through all deception.

And behind Da Ji, a radiant woman stood, her presence both gentle and absolute.

The formation descended. The Dark Veil beneath Famine reacted, surging upward as if to swallow, and the sealing force pressed down harder, locking space, locking movement, and locking existence itself.

Famine’s body trembled and roared.

“YOU DARE—?! THIS FRAGMENT WILL NOT BE BOUND!”

The black hole within it churned violently, the scale at its center tilting for the first time. Its spear lashed out, striking against the invisible restraints, but the formation held, chains of light and law wrapping around it, forcing it downward into the Veil.

“INSIGNIFICANT INSECTS—YOU THINK THIS CAN HOLD ME?!”

The ground shattered beneath the pressure.

Cracks spread across the formation.

Ren Xun felt it immediately.

This would not last.

Even sealed and restrained, Famine was still a fragment of something far beyond them. The formation strained with every passing second, its brilliance already beginning to flicker under the weight of what it contained. They had known this. They had planned for this. This was never meant to be a prison. Only a delay. However, Ren Xun did not waver. His grip tightened around Zhou Yong, his gaze sharp as it cut through the chaos toward his comrades. His voice rang out through Qi Speech. “Hold nothing back. Every second we buy here is a step closer to victory.”

The formation trembled.

Famine struggled.

Time slipped like sand.

“We are not here to surpass it,” Ren Xun continued, his tone rising in resolve. “We are here to defy it. To prove that even a fragment of a Supreme Being can be chained if only for a moment.”

Power surged through him, feeding into the formation.

His will burned.

“So stand your ground. Anchor your pillars. And do not falter no matter what it throws at us.”

The dragon behind him roared.

“We see this through, together!”