Immortal Paladin

The Hollowed World possessed two frontiers that remained stubbornly unconquered despite countless generations of effort. The first was the boundless expanse known as the Mortal Plane.

Long before the Holy Emperor’s name echoed across the heavens and before His Holy Majesty embarked upon his ambitious voyage into the sea of stars, the enormous world had never been fully charted. Kingdoms had risen and fallen, sects had explored forgotten mountain ranges, expeditions had vanished into unrecorded wilderness, yet no map ever claimed to encompass the whole of the Hollowed World.

It wasn’t even originally called the Mortal Plane back then.

The arrival of the Underworld beneath its surface merely gave scholars a reason to distinguish the original realm as the Mortal Plane.

However, that was not where the mysteries of this world ended.

The appearance of the mysterious Tower transformed an already impossible frontier into one riddled with incomprehensible secrets. Every new discovery only served as proof that far more remained hidden beyond mortal understanding.

If the Mortal Plane represented one unconquered frontier, then the Underworld embodied the second. It was a land where even the oldest records failed to provide certainty. Endless wastelands stretched beyond sight, ghostly kingdoms rose amidst seas of black mist, and forgotten civilizations lingered long after death refused to claim them completely. The laws governing life and death intertwined in strange ways beneath the earth, creating horrors that could not exist upon the surface. Countless expeditions ventured into its depths throughout history, yet few ever returned, and those who did spoke only in fragmented memories and fearful whispers.

Many believed the Underworld was not merely another realm beneath the Hollowed World, but a world every bit as vast as the Mortal Plane itself, one where danger lurked behind every silent horizon.

...

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[POV: Mai Duyi]

A lone figure trudged across one of the Underworld’s desolate horizons.

Mai Duyi’s clothes had long since been reduced to bloodstained rags. Fresh wounds crisscrossed his lean frame, while older scars layered beneath them in testament to centuries of relentless battle. Blood flowed freely from cuts that had yet to close, dripping steadily onto the gray earth beneath his feet. Despite his miserable appearance, his stride never faltered. Every step carried the calm certainty of a man who had already accepted pain as a companion long ago.

Resting across his shoulders were several enormous coils of thick, crimson rope.

The ropes had not been woven from hemp, silk, or spirit vines.

They had been fashioned from the Holy Emperor’s own intestines.

The grotesque material radiated a faint divine brilliance despite its grisly appearance. Wrapped tightly around those fleshy cords were thousands upon thousands of ghosts, each one bound so securely that escape had become impossible. They writhed endlessly, their translucent bodies twisting into impossible shapes as they struggled against bindings that refused to loosen. Some had once been towering ghost kings while others had been ancient specters feared across entire regions of the Underworld. Now they resembled fish caught inside an impossibly durable net.

Their cries echoed across the wasteland.

”Please! Just exorcise us already!”

”Kill us! We beg you!”

”It hurts! It hurts so much! We’d rather disappear forever than endure this torture!”

”Monster! You’re the real ghost here!”

Mai Duyi ignored every desperate scream.

Their suffering inspired neither satisfaction nor pity within him. His task demanded one million souls, and every ghost bound behind him represented another step toward completing the trial entrusted to him by the Holy Emperor. Until that goal had been fulfilled, their complaints were nothing more than background noise accompanying an otherwise peaceful march.

As he continued forward, his thoughts wandered through the centuries that had carried him to this lonely road.

The idea of distant frontiers had never been foreign to him. During his childhood upon False Earth, he had often gazed beyond the fields surrounding his small village, imagining kingdoms hidden beyond the mountains and oceans stretching farther than anyone he knew had ever traveled. Those childish dreams had seemed impossibly grand at the time.

Then his childhood friend overturned everything.

The Holy Emperor had descended upon their humble village, carried it into the stars, and renamed it New Willow after bringing it into the Hollowed World. A single impossible miracle shattered every limit Mai Duyi had once believed defined reality.

He thought nothing greater could ever happen.

He had been wrong.

He witnessed the Grand Ascension Empire descend into civil war and fought where he could amidst the chaos. He watched that fractured empire become part of the Holy Ascension Empire beneath the Holy Emperor’s banner. He endured the terrible Hollowed World War alongside countless comrades whose names history would never remember. He saw the descent of an apocalyptic beast large enough to blot out the heavens and watched pale abominations spill across the land in numbers beyond counting. Sometimes he fought upon the front lines. Sometimes he served through logistics and supply. Other times he provided counsel that proved valuable enough for commanders to remember his name. Century after century, both his cultivation and his standing steadily rose.

Every catastrophe convinced him he had finally witnessed the greatest spectacle existence could offer.

Then the Holy Emperor personally sought him out.

Among countless cultivators throughout the Hollowed World, His Holy Majesty had chosen him as one of the representatives who would stand against the champions of a peer beyond ordinary comprehension.

Mai Duyi had accepted without hesitation.

To the countless citizens of the empire, the Holy Emperor was an untouchable sovereign whose glory illuminated the entire world.

To Mai Duyi, he was still the boy who had once shared meals, laughter, and dreams within a quiet village on False Earth.

Learning that his childhood friend had been the reincarnation of an incomprehensibly ancient existence had changed many things, but it had never changed that one simple truth.

His friend had asked for his help.

That alone was enough.

The road leading to this moment had been anything but simple.

Every chosen champion received one thousand years to complete the training personally prepared by the Holy Emperor.

Mai Duyi spent the first two centuries inside the Workshop, assisting his closest friend, Ke Zhen, in forging the ultimate firearm that would finally unlock the full extent of Mai Duyi’s potential. They worked through countless failures, refined impossible concepts, and solved problems no ordinary blacksmith could have imagined. Watching the finished weapon emerge from the forge remained one of Mai Duyi’s proudest memories.

The remaining eight centuries belonged entirely to the Underworld.

His trial required him to subdue one million souls and transform them into bullets.

Not destroy them.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Not exorcise them.

Subdue them.

Only then could each ghost become suitable ammunition for the terrifying weapon awaiting its purpose.

The wasteland gradually gave way to signs of civilization.

Towering walls emerged from the gray haze, stretching across the horizon like an endless mountain range carved from black stone. Ancient formations shimmered above the battlements, while countless ghostly soldiers stood watch upon towering ramparts overlooking the desolate plains below. Behind those walls sprawled an enormous city whose countless structures disappeared into the mist, each one radiating dense yin energy that would have frozen an ordinary cultivator’s soul.

Mai Duyi stopped several hundred meters before the colossal gates.

Without bothering to wipe the blood from his face, he inhaled deeply and projected his voice across the plains.

”I am Mai Duyi, a subject of His Holy Majesty, the Holy Emperor of the Hollowed World!”

His voice thundered against the city walls.

”I pursue the great trial entrusted to me by my sovereign. Bring forth your greatest forge! Summon your finest smiths! Let every master craftsman within this city aid in the undertaking that shall shake both life and death!”

He raised one bloodstained hand toward the sealed gates.

”Open the gates!”

Silence followed.

Ghostly soldiers exchanged bewildered glances atop the ramparts.

”...Did he say Holy Emperor?”

”A living human?”

”How did he even reach this place?”

”Why is he dragging... are those ghost kings?”

”Those ropes... what in the Nine Hells are those ropes made of?”

”No idea.”

”...Should we open the gates?”

”I am absolutely not making that decision.”

The confusion spread rapidly across the walls as officers hurried between defensive positions, each trying to decide whether the lone, blood-soaked cultivator before them was a fearless envoy, an insane madman, or perhaps something far more terrifying.

…

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The Underworld remained a realm under reconstruction.

It was an undertaking so immense that few truly comprehended its scale. Before the Holy Emperor had reshaped reality itself, the Underworld had existed as an entire universe governed by its own heavenly laws. Following its integration into the Hollowed World, that incomprehensibly vast universe became merely another layer beneath an equally enormous planet whose anatomy defied conventional understanding. Mountains housed oceans within their depths, rivers flowed through dimensions unseen by mortal eyes, and territories once separated by countless worlds now found themselves neighbors under a single heaven.

Even so, the enormity of the task never discouraged those who had served the Underworld long before its rebirth.

The Nine Judges, each of whom had once governed a layer of the old Underworld, took it upon themselves to rebuild civilization from the ruins. Every Judge established a great city upon the endless wasteland, creating islands of order amidst an ocean of wandering ghosts, vengeful spirits, and forgotten horrors. Trade flourished beneath their protection, reincarnation gradually resumed its proper cycle, and countless reapers found purpose beneath their banners.

Among those cities stood the Ninth City, Fate.

It was governed by the Lady of the Night, Judge Wang Zhou, whose mastery over destiny and karmic threads had earned both reverence and fear throughout the Underworld.

...

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[POV: Tian Mei]

Tian Mei stared at the brightly illuminated slot machine with narrowed eyes.

She took a deep breath before gripping the polished lever.

”Lady Gu Jie, Goddess of Destiny and Master of Fate, please smile upon this poor soul just once. Let me win enough to eat well for the next month.”

She pulled.

The spinning symbols slowed.

One by one...

They stopped.

Three completely different symbols stared back at her.

”...”

Her cry echoed throughout the casino.

”Oh come on!”

The Ninth City possessed many peculiar establishments, but none had become more infamous than its casino. Rumors claimed that even fortunate cultivators left the building cursing their ancestors after a single evening. Whether those rumors held any truth remained uncertain, but Tian Mei certainly believed them now.

She reached into her pocket dimension, desperately hoping another pouch of spirit stones had somehow escaped her memory. There was nothing, and not even a single stone.

Her gaze slowly drifted toward the slot machine.

For one dangerous second, she genuinely considered picking the entire machine up and fleeing the city.

No...

She reluctantly dismissed the tempting thought.

Once upon a time, she had been an elegant young lady whose every movement carried grace and refinement.

Now she looked no different from an exhausted gambling addict.

Her robes were wrinkled beyond recognition, loose strands of hair framed a face worn down by centuries of hardship, and the dark circles beneath her eyes suggested she had not enjoyed proper sleep in decades.

Several nearby gamblers snickered openly.

”There she goes again.”

”I told you she’d lose everything.”

”She’s been feeding that machine for three straight days.”

”If determination alone made people rich, she’d own the casino by now.”

Tian Mei covered her face with one hand and quietly walked toward the exit.

”My dignity really has reached rock bottom...”

Her terrible luck extended far beyond gambling.

The trial entrusted to her by the Holy Emperor required her to collect one hundred thousand souls and guide each toward peaceful reincarnation.

Compared to Mai Duyi’s trial of subduing one million souls without destroying them, hers appeared significantly easier. Reality proved otherwise. She possessed more than enough strength to exorcise every ghost she encountered.

That was precisely the problem.

The Holy Emperor had specifically instructed her to ease their reincarnation. Doing so meant accepting the burden of their karma and misfortune upon herself. Every ghost she purified left behind centuries, sometimes millennia, of accumulated bad luck, resentment, and karmic debt.

Those burdens gathered upon Tian Mei alone.

As her trial progressed, the world’s hostility toward her steadily increased. Weapons broke at the worst possible moments. Powerful enemies appeared where peaceful roads should have existed. Buildings collapsed exactly as she walked beneath them. Lightning struck beneath cloudless skies. Even tripping over perfectly flat ground became a common occurrence.

The more souls she saved, the more unfortunate her own existence became.

Eventually she learned to laugh whenever disaster struck. It happened too frequently to react any other way. She entered a large stone building bearing the insignia of a black scythe crossed over a wheel.

Several reapers looked up from their conversations.

”Morning, Sister Tian!”

”Back from another assignment?”

”Still alive? That’s impressive.”

”Try not to bring your bad luck inside.”

Tian Mei smiled helplessly.

”I’ll do my best.”

The Reaper Association served directly beneath the authority of the Nine Judges.

Its members hunted dangerous spirits, maintained order throughout the Underworld, and ensured wandering souls reached reincarnation whenever possible. Joining the association had been the very first thing Tian Mei accomplished after arriving in the Underworld. The organization provided information, assignments, equipment, and, perhaps most importantly, countless opportunities to encounter the souls required for her trial.

Following the familiar scent of cooked food, she entered the association’s bustling tavern. ”I’d like one braised spirit beast stew, two steamed ghost buns, and a pot of moonleaf tea.”

The bartender nodded. ”Five medium-grade spirit stones.”

She placed the stones upon the counter, things she pickpocketed from some poor plyer on her way here. ”Pleasure doing business.”

Taking her meal, Tian Mei found an empty seat and quietly observed the lively atmosphere surrounding her.

The tavern had grown far busier than she remembered.

Many unfamiliar faces clearly originated from the Mortal Plane.

Independent adventurers discussed maps and commissions over mugs of liquor. Several cultivators representing different sects and organizations compared notes regarding newly discovered regions of the Underworld. A handful of players from the Player Covenant laughed noisily while arguing over whose recent expedition had earned greater rewards.

Conversations overlapped until the entire tavern buzzed with excitement.

”The Underworld’s still mostly unexplored.”

”I heard another ghost crystal mine was discovered yesterday.”

”The commissions here pay twice as much as those on the surface.”

”We should move our operations here permanently.”

”My guild already bought property inside the Seventh City.”

”Forget monster hunting. Spirit herbs down here sell for ridiculous prices.”

Invisible familiars drifted silently above portions of the crowd. Only trained eyes could perceive them. Each familiar quietly observed promising cultivators, marking potential candidates worthy of joining the Reaper Association.

It seemed the Nine Judges intended to expand their forces considerably.

Tian Mei smiled to herself.

Business would certainly become lively in the years ahead. An unassuming middle-aged man sat beside her, quietly drinking from an ordinary wooden cup. To everyone else, he looked like just another veteran reaper.

Tian Mei knew better.

He was the Reaper Head of the Ninth City.

”I probably won’t be coming back after today,” she said casually while eating. ”I’ve completed the Holy Emperor’s trial. I’ll be leaving soon to fight on His Holy Majesty’s behalf.”

The man merely took another sip.

”Hm.”

That single sound somehow carried acknowledgment.

Tian Mei continued eating in comfortable silence. Part of her wanted to remain here for another week. Perhaps another month. After surviving one thousand years beneath the crushing weight of endless misfortune, a peaceful meal felt like the greatest luxury imaginable.

Just as she finished her tea, the Reaper Head finally spoke again.

”Stay.”

She looked toward him.

”A few more seconds.”

He raised two fingers toward the bartender.

”The most expensive bottle.”

The bartender blinked.

”For her?”

The Reaper Head nodded.

”She’ll soon fight an incredible battle on behalf of His Holy Majesty.”

The entire counter fell strangely quiet. That was easily the longest sentence Tian Mei had ever heard him speak. The bartender slowly turned toward her with narrowed eyes.

”He isn’t lying,” Tian Mei said, sounding oddly offended by the suspicion.

The bartender rolled his eyes. ”Yeah, yeah, sure. If you really are telling the truth... then go win it.”

Tian Mei burst into laughter.

She climbed onto her chair and dramatically raised her freshly poured glass.

”Everyone!”

The tavern gradually quieted.

”I, Tian Mei, shall soon represent His Holy Majesty in a grand battle! Pray that fortune finally remembers my name!”

A wave of cheers erupted throughout the tavern.

”Good luck!”

”Bring honor to the Hollowed World!”

”Show them what our people can do!”

”If you’re buying drinks, we’ll pray all night!”

Tian Mei grinned brilliantly.

”Wonderful! Drinks for everyone!”

The tavern exploded into even louder celebration. She immediately leaned toward the bartender and whispered with complete seriousness,

”...Give them the cheapest liquor you’ve got.”

The bartender snorted before shaking his head with an amused smile.

”I knew there was a catch.”