Immortal Paladin

The twenty-sided die appeared in my hand.

The die embodied the laws governing this floor. Every face contained countless layers of authority woven together, transforming what should have been a simple game of chance into a mechanism capable of deciding life and death.

Naturally, Supreme Heart had no intention of explaining the specific rules; the bastard merely leaned back in a chair he conjured out of nowhere and smiled. I responded by ignoring him completely as my Ophanim activated, examining the past rather than looking into the future.

The Tower possessed memory.

Every action that had ever occurred upon this floor had left traces behind. Through those traces, I reconstructed game after game, watching thousands of participants struggle through the maze while piecing together the rules myself.

The process only took a few moments.

There were three categories of tiles, namely positive, negative, and neutral.

Positive tiles granted benefits intended to help a piece survive. Negative tiles inflicted penalties, injuries, or outright death. Neutral tiles did nothing.

At least, that was the simple explanation, but the actual mechanics were considerably more malicious: the value rolled on the die affected the intensity of a tile’s effect, where a high roll could transform a beneficial tile into a powerful advantage, while a low roll weakened those same benefits. A roll of one was particularly horrifying, as a positive tile could backfire catastrophically and a negative one became an outright nightmare.

And there was another catch. Every tile was invisible, leaving the participants unable to tell whether they were walking toward salvation or disaster. How fitting, a game built entirely around blind faith. A platform rose beneath us, an elegant table materialized between Supreme Heart and me, and the die in my hand glowed softly.

A pleasant feminine voice echoed throughout the void.

”Please roll the die.”

I watched the table, the board, and most importantly Supreme Heart, then rolled the die. It bounced once, twice, three times before eventually stopping on seventeen. It was a respectable number. Yu Han immediately stiffened, the boy looking frightened as an invisible force seized control of his body.

”H-Huh?!”

His feet moved despite his struggles, one step, then two, then three, all the way to seventeen. The poor child counted every pace unconsciously until he finally arrived at the seventeenth tile. Nothing happened. There were no monsters, no traps, and no explosions. The tile was neutral. Yu Han collapsed to his knees and released a shaky breath, and I did the same internally.

”Nice one,” said Heart with a grin. ”That could’ve gone worse.”

Yu Han was an orphan, a thief, a survivor, and a child who had learned how cruel the world could be long before reaching adulthood.

However, I hadn’t chosen him because I pitied him.

The decision had been entirely practical.

Through my Ophanim, I had seen his future.

Had the Tower never abducted him, Yu Han would have climbed out of poverty through his own efforts. He would have established a successful merchant company, employed thousands of people, donated substantial portions of his wealth, and left behind a legacy remembered for generations.

His future contained hardship, but it also contained hope.

Li He was different.

Her future was tragic.

Her family would eventually marry her off for political and financial gain. She would become little more than an ornament decorating an influential household. Her husband would treat her as property rather than a person.

The girl deserved better.

Unfortunately, fate had not agreed.

”Excellent throw,” said Supreme Heart with a feigned smile. ”Congratulations, Da Wei. Really, you just narrowly avoided disaster. Maybe, I was wrong about you, and that your luck isn’t that bad.”

My eyes shifted toward the neighboring tiles.

Immediately, I understood.

The sixteenth tile was negative.

The eighteenth tile was also negative.

Yu Han had landed directly between them.

”Had you rolled one lower,” Supreme Heart continued cheerfully, ”your little street rat would’ve encountered the Sand Burial treatment. And one higher would’ve sent him to the Bone Garden, which trust me is scarier than it sounds.”

I didn’t particularly like either name.

The memories attached to those tiles suggested my instincts were correct.

Of course, Supreme Heart could see the board clearly, and so could I. The realization sparked a new thought. Perhaps this game wasn’t solely about tormenting me. Perhaps Supreme Heart was measuring me, testing my abilities and evaluating my true potential.

After all, choosing Yu Han had revealed information. Someone without prophetic abilities would have likely chosen Li He, while someone capable of seeing the future would recognize which child possessed greater long-term potential. Interesting. The creep was gathering information while pretending to play, and that somehow made him even more annoying.

”My turn.”

Supreme Heart grabbed the die, and then casually rolled it. The die spun through the air and stopped at twenty. It was a perfect roll. The bastard immediately threw both hands upward.

”YES!”

I already disliked where this was going as Li He involuntarily advanced twenty spaces, her small legs carrying her across the board until she arrived at her destination. Golden light erupted beneath her feet, marking a positive tile. Though unfortunately, positive didn’t necessarily mean harmless. Supreme Heart jumped out of his chair.

”Fireball!”

The girl looked utterly confused.

”W-What?”

”Fireball!”

”I don’t understand!”

”Cast the fireball!”

Terror spread across Li He’s face.

”I don’t know what that means!”

The Tower answered for her as flames gathered around her hands and a sphere of blazing fire formed above her palms. The girl’s eyes widened, tears immediately appearing, while the fireball continued growing and showing no sign of stopping.

”N-No! Stop! I don’t want to! Please stop! I don’t want to hurt anybody!”

Across the board, Yu Han looked horrified.

”D-Don’t! Please don’t do it!”

The children stared at one another, neither wanting this nor possessing any choice as the Tower ruled above them. Li He screamed as the fireball launched, the blazing sphere crossing the distance between them and slamming directly into Yu Han with a deafening boom. The explosion threw him backward, flames engulfing his body as his clothes ignited instantly. The boy hit the ground screaming while the smell of burning flesh filled the air.

My hands clenched, trying my best to suppress my fury.

Supreme Heart, meanwhile, looked absolutely delighted.

”The effects are simple!”

He sounded like an enthusiastic game show host.

”The next time Da Wei rolls, his result will be halved!”

The bastard pointed dramatically at Yu Han.

”And the opposing piece is pushed back one tile!”

Yu Han’s burning body slid backward, immediately activating the tile behind him as a massive serpent erupted from the board and swallowed him whole. The boy vanished into its jaws before he could even finish screaming. The serpent then dove beneath the maze, only to emerge several seconds later near the beginning. Its mouth opened, spitting Yu Han onto the third tile. The moment he landed, the tile activated, and quicksand appeared. Yu Han immediately began sinking.

The terrified child clawed desperately at the ground.

”H-Help!”

His voice shook violently.

”Please!”

The sand swallowed him up to his waist, then his chest, and then his shoulders.

Supreme Heart laughed so hard he nearly fell out of his chair.

”Hahahaha!”

The tile revealed its effect.

A glowing message appeared above the board.

SKIP ONE TURN.

Supreme Heart wiped imaginary tears from his eyes.

”Ohhh, this is just beautiful. They say two negatives make a positive, but holy shit, not here. Look on the bright side, Da Wei~ At this rate, his luck is actually dogshit enough to make you look like a winner. So don’t feel too bad about yourself, okay champ? You’re not quite rock bottom yet.”

The urge to throw him into the Abyss became significantly stronger.

I was starting to hate this game.

Across the table, Supreme Heart looked like he was having the time of his life. He snatched the twenty-sided die from the table and rolled it again without hesitation. It spun through the air, bounced across the surface, and came to a stop on twenty.

“HAHAHAHA! Oh, this is fantastic!” cheered Heart with mocking grin.

The invisible force of the game seized Li He and dragged her forward twenty spaces. The exhausted girl stumbled across the board until she reached her destination. Golden light erupted beneath her feet, and a symbol slowly materialized above it: a sword. It was a positive tile.

Heart’s grin widened. “Oh, that’s nasty.”

I already disliked where this was going. Heart snapped his fingers, and a gleaming longsword appeared in Li He’s trembling hands. The weapon was nearly as large as she was; she nearly dropped it immediately.

“The effect is simple,” Heart announced with obvious delight. “The next time your piece occupies a tile adjacent to mine, Li He gets a free attack A successful strike inflicts weakness, exhaustion, bleeding, spiritual instability, reduced movement speed, diminished cultivation efficiency, and a handful of other delightful inconveniences.”

Li He stared at the sword, then began to cry. Her small hands shook violently. “I-I don’t want this… W-Where’s my father?” Tears streamed down her cheeks. “Please… W-Where’s my dad…?”

I closed my eyes briefly, then opened them again, keeping my expression calm. Only someone who knew me well would have noticed the tension around my eyes. Heart certainly noticed. The bastard looked positively radiant.

“Oh, don’t worry,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “We still have plenty of time.” His grin turned vicious. “Your piece is still stuck in quicksand, though. Therefore… I get another turn. Man, it must be my lucky day, huh?”

He rolled. Twenty. Again.

Heart stared at the result, then at me, then back at the die. “Okay. Even I’m starting to think that’s ridiculous.”

I wasn’t convinced. Li He moved another twenty spaces and landed on a neutral tile. She looked relieved. At least no one was being burned alive this time.

The game finally returned to me. The die appeared before me. I picked it up and first cast Divine Favor upon myself, letting golden light flow through my body. Heart raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

I weighed the die carefully. Divine Favor would improve my luck, but it would also boost Heart’s whenever he rolled if I cast it on the die itself. It was not ideal. Instead, I pointed at the die. “Blessed Weapon.”

Golden runes covered its surface. Heart blinked, laughed, and immediately waved his hand, sending a wave of dispelling energy toward it. I reacted instantly, raising a barrier around myself and the die. The dispelling force slammed against it and vanished.

Heart clicked his tongue. “You’re no fun.”

I looked at him flatly. “You didn’t say anything about us not modifying the die.”

He shrugged. “Fair.” His grin returned. “Give it your best shot.”

I rotated my wrist and let the die fly. At the same time, I activated Ophanim. Countless futures unfolded before me from thousands, millions, and an endless sea of possibilities. Most were terrible. Some were survivable. A handful were favorable. I nudged fate just enough to guide the outcome without breaking the rules.

The die landed on eighteen. A positive tile. Yu Han immediately escaped the quicksand and advanced to a glowing ladder. Relief washed over the boy’s face as he climbed. The ladder carried him high above the board before depositing him three spaces ahead of Li He.

Heart looked mildly annoyed. “Show-off.”

The game continued, and days blurred into weeks, then years. The board transformed into a battlefield. Food became precious. Water became invaluable. Some positive tiles offered supplies, equipment, shelters, healing, and cultivation resources. Other negative tiles brought injuries, curses, starvation, poison, madness, and death. It was quite varied.

Heart and I manipulated every advantage we could. Boons were hoarded, abilities sabotaged, and resources weaponized. Every roll became a battle of foresight and preparation. Caught between us were two children who slowly stopped being children.

The Tower’s cruel environment forced them to grow. Yu Han and Li He learned cultivation, shattered their spirits, reforged them, and strengthened their wills through the instinctive transcendent method. They endured suffering no child should ever experience. Year after year, their bodies matured, their minds hardened, and their innocence vanished.

I watched it all happen and hated every second of it. The game had robbed them of their childhood. I had agreed to participate because refusing would have condemned them immediately, but that knowledge brought little comfort. Every hardship they endured still happened because I sat at this table. Every injury, every tear? It was because of me.

Sometimes, I wondered how many others had suffered similarly throughout the Tower’s history. How many children? How many families? How many lives? The thought always left a bitter taste in my mouth, so I didn’t look for the answer, despite the power I could wield.

Eventually, the end approached. The finish line stood just ahead. Yu Han was two tiles away. Li He was four. The board had narrowed into a final stretch. Victory was within reach.

If I rolled exactly two, Yu Han would win. Anything higher would overshoot the finish line and trigger the board’s reversal rules, giving Heart another chance, potentially the last one he needed.

The platform overlooking the maze fell silent. Below, Yu Han and Li He stood opposite each other, both covered in scars, their clothing little more than ragged scraps. Their faces were dirty, their bodies exhausted. Over the years they had fought, argued, insulted one another, and tried to kill each other more times than either cared to count. Yet alongside the hostility, something else had grown: friendship, understanding, trust, and eventually something more.

Heart watched them thoughtfully, then chuckled. “You know…” I immediately disliked his tone. He rested his chin against his hand. “Love really is beautiful.”

I remained silent.

“Was this your grand plan all along?” Heart glanced at me, pointing toward the two teenagers. “When you asked me about the power of love earlier. Was this what you meant?”

I kept my gaze fixed on the board.

Heart snorted. “What power? There is no power of love. Love doesn’t overcome fate. It doesn’t conquer destiny. It doesn’t perform miracles.”

I finally spoke. “There is the power of friendship.”

“Oh no.”

“There is the power of conviction.”

“Oh, he’s serious.”

“There is the power of sacrifice.”

Heart physically recoiled. “Stop. You’re starting to sound inspirational.”

I ignored him. “If those things exist, then love must possess power as well.”

Heart laughed. It was a genuine laugh this time, though still dismissive. “You really believe that?” He gestured toward the teenagers. “They share the same fate. A tragic one, sure. So, what? Whatever you’re hoping for won’t happen. There will be no miracle. No happy ending. No transcendent power. Just heartbreak.”

The die appeared before me. Heart pointed at it. “Now stop philosophizing. Throw the die.”

I looked down at the board one final time. Yu Han. Li He. Two broken children molded into something stronger through suffering. Neither possessed powerful treasures or useful boons anymore. Both looked exhausted and looked painfully human.

I let the die leave my hand. It rolled across the table, spinning, turning, and bouncing. The platform fell silent. Heart watched. I watched.

Eventually the die slowed… and stopped on six.

Heart stared at the result, then threw his head back and burst into mocking laughter. “Oh, come on! Six? After all that grandstanding and your little fate-nudging tricks, you land on six? It seems I didn’t even need to try, Da Wei! Your luck finally ran out right before I could play my trump card. How utterly pathetic, watching you scramble like a mortal only to trip over your own arrogance at the finish line. Bravo, truly. The great Da Wei, defeated by a child’s roll.”

I met his gaze calmly. “I threw it that way on purpose.”

Yu Han walked toward the finish line, only to be pulled back four tiles until he shared the same space as Li He. A deep gash on his side from a recent injury, reopened fully now, while blood began to flow freely. The two youngsters looked at each other with raw longing. At this point, they were eighteen and seventeen years old, their bodies forged by years of suffering inside the Tower.

Without a word, they kissed.

“So, what?” Heart scoffed, his voice dripping with derision. “All you did was give them a more colorful death. How touching. A final kiss before the board claims them both.”

“You underestimate fate too much, Heart,” I replied evenly. “It’s your turn.”

Heart looked genuinely confused for a moment. He had clearly prepared some trick, some hidden card to turn the situation around in his favor, but he wouldn’t even get the chance to use it. He threw the die anyway. It landed on twelve. Li He moved forward to the finish line, then returned to Yu Han’s side.

“What is this?” Heart demanded, his confusion deepening.

I grabbed the die and rolled. Twelve. Yu Han advanced to the finish line and walked back to Li He. The pattern repeated again and again in a steady back-and-forth, the two of them oscillating between the end and each other while Heart slowly caught up.

“So, that’s what your Supremacy Trait does, huh?” Heart remarked with a sharp laugh, shortly realizing what was happening. “You ‘borrowed’ my Supremacy Trait, manipulated the destiny between them by connecting their hearts, and empowered it with faith. It’s a pretty advanced use of a Supremacy Trait. This is not funny.”

I allowed a slow, prideful smile to spread across my face, my voice ringing with unshakeable confidence. “Of course it isn’t funny. How could the likes of you possibly compare to me? It is only natural.”

To be clear, I hadn’t empowered any external faith. That faith had already existed inside those kids, burning quietly all along. Heart’s mistake had been choosing citizens educated in the Great Guard faith, creating a faint connection I could pluck at their destinies.

“How did you do it?” Heart asked, narrowing his eyes.

“I have a daughter who likes playing around with destinies,” I answered. “I picked up a thing or two. So, a tie?”

He scoffed. “It isn’t like I have a choice, anyway.”

“Oh, you do,” I said. “We can continue this forever, until my people crack the code on how to destroy this Tower.”

Heart narrowed his eyes at me. “You are that confident in your people, huh? But if only you’d aimed for victory, there’s no need to wait so long for such a thing to be done, when you can just enforce the wager on me.”

“We both know it’s not going to be that easy,” I replied. “If I had rolled a four back then, you would’ve probably done something about it.”

Heart let out a long, exasperated sigh and leaned back in his chair, waving a hand dismissively. “Fine, fine. I agree to the tie. The wager is no more.”