Immortal Paladin

[POV: Davian]

Davian sat upon the throne of Radiant Losten in silence while countless streams of information flowed across the empire through arrays, spirit relays, and Qi Speech transmissions. The vast hall around him shimmered beneath golden crystal chandeliers infused with holy light, their brilliance reflecting against polished marble floors veined with silver. Towering stained-glass windows depicted the ascension of the Holy Emperor, Da Wei standing beneath the World Tree while nations knelt before him in reverence. Even after all these years, the image still stirred something deep within Dave’s chest.

The heart of the religious faction was undoubtedly the Holy Emperor himself. Da Wei was the center of worship, the guiding light of humanity and countless races beneath the Empire’s banner. Yet when one spoke of true religious centers, there were three answers recognized throughout the Hollowed World.

New Willow.

The World Tree.

Radiant Losten.

New Willow housed the Shrine of Da Wei, the very first church dedicated to the Holy Emperor. It had long since evolved beyond a mere shrine and now functioned as the central command of the Princess Regent herself. Due to the city’s mobility and defensive capabilities, military strategists deemed it the least likely target for enemy aggression.

The World Tree was even more untouchable. Sacred beyond measure, its colossal roots and branches connected the Hollowed World to distant realms and foreign territories. Every major and minor faction maintained a presence there, both for trade and diplomacy. Armies surrounded it in overwhelming numbers day and night. Any direct assault would be suicide.

Which left Radiant Losten.

Davian rested one elbow against the arm of his throne as he exhaled slowly. It had taken time for him to grow accustomed to the name Davian Lightforge. For the longest while, “Dave” had been enough for him. Simple. Honest. Familiar. Even now, he preferred hearing it from those close to him.

Still, he could not deny the weight the name carried.

Davian Lightforge.

It was more than a title. More than nobility. It was proof that he was no longer merely surviving in another man’s shadow. The Holy Emperor had given him freedom, identity, and trust. Even now, as one of the two sovereigns of Radiant Losten, Dave never forgot who he truly was beneath the crown.

A loyal follower.

A loyal friend.

A pulse of qi rippled through the air beside his throne before Joana’s voice echoed directly into his mind through a powerful Qi Speech technique.

“There have been no attacks upon the Origin Faith so far,” Joana reported calmly. “Their sanctuary remains secure, though tensions are rising among their upper ranks. They are aware something is coming.”

Davian’s fingers drummed once against the throne before he responded through the same spiritual connection.

“Do not lower your guard,” he said. “If the enemy appears, inform me immediately. Stay safe, Joana.”

A faint warmth accompanied her reply.

“You should worry about yourself too, husband.”

The connection faded shortly afterward.

The Origin Faith remained a contentious existence within the Empire. Many still viewed them as little more than a surviving cult. In ages past, they had stood against Radiant Losten and shed blood beneath opposing banners. Their survival came solely through the mercy of the Holy Emperor. As a consequence, they existed beneath Radiant Losten’s authority in a subservient relationship that neither side openly discussed.

Still, their top cultivators possessed ancient knowledge judged valuable to the Empire. Techniques, records, and forgotten understandings that even the Imperial Archives lacked. That alone had spared them from annihilation.

Now, however, the possibility remained that the enemy might attempt recruitment.

Or worse.

Davian closed his eyes briefly before extending his Divine Sense outward.

The world unfolded before him.

Walls lined with defensive arrays.

Siege weapons crackling with spiritual energy.

Humans fastening armor beneath banners of gold and white.

Elven archers kneeling along elevated terraces while spirit-forged arrows shimmered with emerald light.

Dwarven engineers roaring orders beside massive cannons engraved with runic scripture.

Beastfolk warriors sharpening colossal axes while chanting prayers to the Holy Emperor beneath their breath.

“They’re approaching!”

“Seal the outer districts!”

“Activate the fourth barrier formation!”

“Move the civilians underground!”

Voices rose from every direction as tension spread across Radiant Losten like wildfire.

Finally, Davian saw them. An army stretched across the distant horizon. 

The throne room exploded with compressed air as Davian vanished, reappearing high above the city in a burst of golden light. His robes fluttered violently in the wind while his gaze fixed upon the invading force.

Thirty thousand at minimum.

A careful sweep of Divine Sense caused his expression to darken further.

Every single soul among them stood at the Seventh Realm or higher.

Yet what unsettled him most was not their strength.

It was their existence.

“They’re dead...” Davian muttered quietly.

Not undead.

Not revenants.

Not skeletal puppets animated through necromancy.

These were ghosts given flesh. Souls shackled into artificial bodies through some vile sorcery that violated the natural order itself. Their expressions were hollow, eyes devoid of individuality as they marched in perfect silence beneath a blackened banner that seemed to consume surrounding light.

A sharp pulse of qi interrupted his thoughts.

“Davian!” Joana’s voice rang urgently through their spiritual link. “The Origin King has appeared at the sanctuary!”

Davian’s eyes sharpened instantly.

He turned toward the figures gathered atop the defensive walls behind him.

Queen Seraphae stood at the forefront with twin obsidian blades resting at her sides, crimson eyes fixed upon the enemy army with cold hatred. Beside her stood Chieftain Archelon, the elderly Light Priest radiating immense holy power while scripture floated around him in orbiting circles. Holy Speaker Anna clutched her staff tightly as golden leaves drifted around her spiritual aura.

Then there was Ezekiel.

The evolved holy skeleton stood unnaturally still beneath dark robes trimmed in silver, empty eye sockets glowing with pale blue flames.

Davian’s voice boomed across the battlefield.

“I’ll leave the defense to all of you. Destroy them.”

Seraphae smirked coldly. “Gladly.”

Archelon raised his staff. “The Holy Light shall endure.”

Anna nodded solemnly. “Radiant Losten will not fall today.”

Ezekiel merely tilted his skull slightly.

“They will break before us.”

Davian formed a seal with one hand.

“Egress.”

Space folded instantly.

The world blurred and shattered apart.

Davian emerged within the sanctuary of the Origin Faith just in time to intercept a descending blade. The collision detonated with terrifying force as shockwaves blasted through nearby structures, reducing walls and stone pillars into storms of rubble.

The sanctuary was already in ruins.

Flames spread across shattered courtyards while cultivators fought desperately against black-armored invaders. Spiritual formations flickered erratically overhead, several already collapsing under overwhelming force.

Davian’s arm trembled slightly as he held back the sword pressing against him, while he hastily changed into his armor.

The man on the opposite side sneered.

The Origin King.

“You...” the king hissed with bloodshot eyes. “Da Wei! I swear upon everything you stole from us that I will have my vengeance!”

Davian pushed the blade aside before stepping back calmly.

“You are mistaken,” he replied evenly. “I am not the Holy Emperor.”

The Origin King laughed harshly, madness flickering across his face.

“It makes no difference,” he spat. “I’ll kill you all the same.”

A surge of killing intent exploded outward from the king’s body.

Then another presence emerged beside Davian.

Joana.

The Losten Queen stood with silver light radiating around her spear while divine flames danced across the ground beneath her feet. Her gaze remained icy as she leveled the weapon toward the Origin King.

“No,” Joana said coldly. “It should be us saying that to you.”

…

..

.

[POV: Tan Jin]

A beautiful woman with long green hair stood atop the highest rooftop of the Martial Alliance palace while cold winds swept across the sprawling fortress-city beneath her. Her emerald strands danced behind her like flowing silk, contrasting sharply against the dark steel cuirass wrapped tightly around her athletic figure. Golden spirit lines engraved into the armor shimmered faintly whenever her qi circulated beneath the surface.

Tan Jin narrowed her eyes toward the distant horizon.

The Hollowed World had changed too quickly.

Ever since the Hollowed World War ended, the number of Martial Saints within the Martial Alliance had risen considerably. Resources once hoarded by ancient sects had become accessible beneath Imperial rule, while the countless battlefields of the war had tempered surviving cultivators into monsters. In another era, this would have marked the greatest height in the alliance’s history.

Now, however, it barely felt meaningful.

Because no matter how much stronger they became, they remained insignificant compared to the Holy Ascension Empire.

The sovereign ruler of the Hollowed World had become something terrifying beyond conventional understanding. Its armies stretched endlessly across realms, its influence reached even beyond the Hollowed World itself, and the Holy Emperor’s authority overshadowed every power beneath the heavens.

Then there were the outsiders.

The powers beyond the Hollowed World.

Even thinking about them caused unease to creep into Tan Jin’s chest.

Her expression darkened further.

The appearance of ancient cults thought long extinct only worsened matters. The intelligence reports gathered over recent months painted increasingly disturbing pictures regarding the nature of the two hidden organizations resurfacing throughout the empire. At first, Tan Jin dismissed most of it as paranoia and fearmongering.

Now?

She was no longer certain.

Too many strange incidents were occurring within the imperial court. Too many unexplained deaths. Too many disappearances. And looming above all of it was the Great Beast itself.

The displacement crisis caused by the forecasted destruction ought to consume the other half of the world had pushed countless refugees into already strained territories. Entire cities struggled to support the influx of desperate civilians. Food shortages worsened daily, while crime and unrest spread like infection beneath the surface.

Many officials quietly believed the refugees should have been left outside the cities entirely, reduced to beggars and vagrants.

In other words, someone else’s problem.

Yet the Holy Emperor had insisted otherwise.

Some had begun blaming the Holy Emperor himself for provoking the Great Beast through his conquest of the Underworld. They believed the violation of cosmic balance had awakened calamity upon the Hollowed World.

Of course, none dared speak such thoughts openly.

Not if they valued their lives.

Tan Jin possessed the highest authority within the Martial Alliance aside from Yi Qiu himself. Officials, sect leaders, and military commanders constantly sought guidance from her.

Yet she had none to give.

Her correspondence to Martial Alliance Leader Yi Qiu remained unanswered even now.

That silence worried her more than anything else.

Tan Jin exhaled slowly before stepping away from the rooftop. Her figure blurred through the corridors of the palace at immense speed until she arrived outside a heavily warded office chamber guarded by elite cultivators.

Inside sat Heir Apparent Yi Chan.

The young woman had changed considerably over the years.

She had grown tall, nearly approaching her father’s intimidating stature, though her physique remained lean rather than monstrous. Red hair cascaded behind her shoulders in messy waves while toned muscles shifted visibly beneath loose martial robes. The resemblance to Yi Qiu had become increasingly obvious with age.

If not for Yi Chan’s obsessive awareness regarding her appearance and proportions, she likely would have resembled a war beast by now.

Fortunately, she had inherited her mother’s grace.

And beauty.

Tan Jin stepped into the room quietly.

Yi Chan lounged sideways across a chair near the desk, lazily sketching random figures onto paper while several crumpled sheets littered the floor nearby. Judging from her expression, boredom had nearly reached lethal levels.

Tan Jin raised a brow slightly.

“Is there a problem, Young Miss?”

Yi Chan immediately groaned dramatically without even looking up.

“A problem?” she complained. “I’ve practically imprisoned myself inside this damned room for months. Of course there’s a problem. There are a thousand better things I could be doing instead of rotting here like some decorative plant.”

Tan Jin almost smiled faintly.

Yi Chan used to carry herself with far more elegance in her younger years. Now, however, her personality had become increasingly bold and expressive. It was likely due to the martial art she currently practiced. Martial paths often influenced the temperament of their practitioners over time.

Some techniques sharpened cruelty.

Others cultivated tranquility.

Yi Chan’s clearly encouraged aggression and freedom.

“It was an order from the top,” Tan Jin reminded calmly. “There is nothing we can do about it.”

Yi Chan finally looked up, irritation flashing across her face.

“That’s exactly what makes this ridiculous,” she snapped. “We’re obviously being sabotaged. Someone’s setting us up to take the blame for things we didn’t do, and everyone’s pretending not to notice.”

Her fingers tightened around the charcoal pen.

“What we should be doing is gathering every official and interrogating them until we uncover the moles hiding among us.”

Tan Jin’s expression hardened slightly.

“There is no need.”

Yi Chan frowned. “What do you mean?”

“The officials are already dying.”

Silence fell briefly.

Tan Jin continued evenly.

“Accidents. Assassinations. Poisonings. Entire bloodlines disappearing overnight. They’ve been dropping like flies these past few weeks.”

Yi Chan grimaced.

“Who the hell could be behind all this...?”

Before Tan Jin could answer, the office doors burst open violently.

A runner stumbled inside, pale-faced and drenched in sweat.

“My lady!” he shouted frantically. “The Martial Alliance has been completely surrounded! Communication arrays across the territory have stopped functioning!”

Tan Jing’s eyes sharpened instantly.

She turned toward the nearby window.

Then her blood ran cold.

Outside, chaos had erupted throughout the palace grounds.

Servants.

Clerks.

Minor attendants with little to no cultivation.

They had gone mad.

One servant tore through a cultivator’s throat with his bare teeth while laughing hysterically. Another stabbed herself repeatedly before exploding into black mist that corroded nearby guards alive. Elite disciples who should have subdued ordinary mortals effortlessly were dying in confusion as madness spread through the city like wildfire.

Yi Chan shot to her feet instantly.

“What is happening?!”

The runner trembled violently.

“There’s... there’s also a message.”

Tan Jing slowly turned toward him.

The man swallowed hard.

“They said...” His voice quivered. “They said the Holy Emperor has decided the Martial Alliance is in the way. That we are no longer needed.”

A distant explosion shook the palace.

Then another.

The runner’s face turned deathly pale.

“They declared that we sided with the enemies,” he whispered. “And that punishment has come for us.”

Genuine fury surfaced within Tan Jin’s eyes.

Her Martial Saint aura erupted outward like a storm.

“Declare a state of emergency immediately,” she ordered coldly. “Seal the palace gates. Mobilize every cultivator still loyal to the alliance.”

Outside, screams echoed endlessly beneath the darkening sky.

…

..

.

[POV: Tao Long]

As the Primary of Ward, there were far better places for Tao Long to be than standing within the capital city of the Four Pillars. The frontlines needed him. The border fortresses needed him. Countless battlefields throughout the Hollowed World could have benefited from his presence, yet he remained here because the Princess Regent herself had requested it.

Which meant whatever was coming would not be simple.

Tao Long stood atop one of the towering defensive platforms overlooking the capital while spiritual arrays pulsed beneath the city streets like veins of light. Millions lived within these walls. Temples rose beside martial academies, while massive statues of ancient saints watched over the city with solemn grandeur. The Four Pillars had grown considerably since there reformation.

So had its people.

A heated argument nearby pulled Tao Long from his thoughts.

“You can’t place your archers there!” Tian Mei snapped angrily. “That avenue is too narrow. If they get trapped during a breach, they’ll slaughter each other trying to retreat!”

Shu Dai folded his arms while glaring back at her.

“And if we move them where you want, the western district becomes vulnerable. Do you want the enemy climbing directly over the walls?”

Tian Mei pointed accusingly toward a glowing map floating between them.

“You’re impossible.”

“You’re stubborn.”

“At least I think before speaking.”

“At least I don’t panic every time something deviates from the plan.”

The two continued bickering without pause while nearby officers pretended not to notice.

Tao Long almost laughed.

It had been many years since he last saw Lady Tian Mei and her fiancé. Back then, they were merely children running through inn corridors during the Summit of the Four Powers.

Now?

They stood among the younger generation’s brightest cultivators, incredible resources invested in them greatly.

Tenth Realm experts.

At such an age, their talent bordered on monstrous.

Still, despite their maturity and accomplishments, they somehow argued exactly like an old married couple.

Which made Tao Long even more surprised they had yet to wed.

Apparently, the two had insisted on waiting until the Holy Emperor himself could officiate the ceremony. They had even spent centuries now preparing funds for what Tian Mei once described as “the greatest wedding in the history of the Hollowed World,” combining ancient traditions with Daweist rites and Imperial ceremonies.

Shu Dai claimed it was excessive.

Tian Mei claimed he simply lacked vision.

Tao Long silently suspected Shu Dai already lost that argument years ago.

His expression softened slightly as he watched them.

When word reached him that the Four Pillars would soon come under attack, he had mobilized his forces immediately beneath orders from the Princess Regent. There was no hesitation involved.

After all, Tian Mei was the daughter of his master.

A ripple of qi stirred beside him.

Tian En appeared soundlessly atop the platform, her elderly figure wrapped in layered ceremonial robes embroidered with silver scripture. Though age lined her face, the spiritual pressure radiating from her remained immense enough to distort the air itself.

She glanced toward the bustling city below before speaking through Qi Speech directly into Tao Long’s mind.

“Is your information certain?”

Tao Long nodded once.

“The order came directly from the Princess Regent herself,” he replied mentally. “There are few within the Hollowed World capable of foresight comparable to hers. The only one who might rival her in that regard is His Holy Majesty.”

“Will Tian Mei’s father come?”

Before Tao Long could answer, space rippled violently nearby.

A figure emerged from the distortion.

Shouquan.

The old man stepped forward with his hands clasped behind his back, appearing no different from an ordinary elderly scholar. Yet the moment he arrived, the atmosphere atop the platform shifted completely.

Every cultivator present immediately straightened.

Some bowed deeply.

Others lowered their heads in instinctive respect.

“Founder!”

“Elder Shouquan!”

“Greetings, Grandmaster!”

The reactions came not only from Ward cultivators beneath Tao Long’s command, but also from members of the Four Pillars themselves. Because regardless of their current divisions and leadership structures, both organizations ultimately traced their origins back to this old man.

Shouquan had built them.

Tian Mei blinked in surprise before hurriedly bowing alongside Shu Dai, entirely unaware that the elderly man before her was actually her father.

The old man merely chuckled softly.

“You youngsters are far too tense.”

Tao Long stepped forward respectfully.

“Master.”

Shouquan nodded once before glancing across the city walls. “I had my disciples reinforce the capital with additional wards and contingencies,” he remarked casually. “I also brought the strongest cultivators I trained within Radiant Losten.”

Tao Long frowned slightly.

“Will that truly be acceptable?”

Shouquan raised a brow.

“What do you mean?”

“The Losten King and the Holy Emperor entrusted those people to you,” Tao Long explained carefully. “Especially His Holy Majesty. He ordered you personally to teach cultivation to the denizens of Radiant Losten. Those disciples are part of whose faction?”

A faint smile appeared on Shouquan’s weathered face.

“It will be fine.”

There was complete certainty in his voice. That alone eased some of Tao Long’s concerns.

Suddenly, the world trembled.

Every cultivator atop the platform froze instantly.

A low groaning sound echoed throughout the heavens as cracks spread across the sky itself. Black-red fissures tore open above the capital like wounds splitting apart reality.

Hell Gates.

Dozens of them.

No.

Hundreds.

Massive portals erupted into existence around the city walls, vomiting endless waves of black mist into the atmosphere. Demonic Qi flooded the surroundings with such density that weaker cultivators nearly collapsed where they stood.

Alarms exploded throughout the capital.

Defensive arrays activated instantly.

Golden barriers rose over districts while countless cultivators rushed toward battle positions.

Tian Mei’s expression turned deathly serious.

“That many...?”

Even Shu Dai lost his usual sarcasm.

Tao Long’s hand tightened slowly around the shaft of his spear.

Then footsteps thundered across the platform.

A runner stumbled toward them while gasping heavily for breath.

“My lords!” he shouted frantically. “An enormous army has surrounded the capital!”

“Yeah, we can see that,” said Tian Mei with a grimace.

“N-No, there’s an army converging here, different fromt the demons.”

Another tremor shook the city.

The runner nearly fell before continuing.

“Our communication network is being suppressed! Long-range arrays aren’t functioning!”

Tian En’s eyes narrowed sharply.

“Who is attacking us?”

The runner hesitated.

Fear spread visibly across his face.

“They also delivered a message,” he whispered, forcing the words out. “The Princess Regent has declared the Four Pillars and Ward guilty of treason.”