Immortal Paladin

[POV: Da Wei]

I could feel a migraine coming on. I couldn’t believe the Divine Phantasm of Dreams had worked across such an absurd distance. I knew Ding Cai was somewhere in the Tower because I’d seen her in alternate futures while climbing its floors. Even so, I hadn’t expected to reach her with a dream projection, especially when I was already struggling to recover from my ordeal with Ophanim.

It was dark outside by the time I’d finally replenished my qi. Tao Long was nowhere to be seen, presumably busy helping Nongmin prepare for our climb. Around the building, the thugs were occupied with household chores. They studiously avoided my gaze whenever I passed them, as though afraid I’d suddenly remember some unfinished business with them.

Unfortunately for them, I had something else in mind.

“Hey, do any of you have some cash on hand?” I asked.

One of them immediately hurried over and handed me a thick wad of bills. “Please, take it, sir. Spend as much as you need.”

“Thanks. I’ll put it to good use.”

I gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder and cast Cure on him. The spell flowed through his body, repairing a torn muscle he’d apparently been nursing. His eyes widened when the pain vanished.

“Thank you! Thank you so much!”

“Don’t mention it. Just take it easy for a while.”

I left him to his profuse gratitude and strolled outside.

As I looked back at the building, I couldn’t help wondering whether there was any part of me that would miss this place. I had barely thought about Earth lately, and if I was being honest, I didn’t particularly care what happened to it. My priorities had changed too much for me to feel attached to a world I’d long since left behind.

My stomach rumbled.

Right. There were more immediate concerns to deal with.

I’d been asleep for an extraordinarily long time. Without Blessed Regeneration constantly repairing my body, I would have died long before waking up. The Laws governing this world were surprisingly strict about certain biological needs. Hunger, sleepiness, and fatigue weren’t things I could simply ignore through sheer willpower, no matter how powerful I was.

I’d spent the entire time consulting the future through Ophanim in a state of starvation. The horrors I’d witnessed and the sheer volume of information flooding my mind had overwhelmed most of my physical sensations while I was trapped in that infinite expanse. Now that I’d finally escaped it, my body seemed determined to remind me of everything I’d neglected.

I needed food. A lot of it.

Fortunately, I soon found a ramen stand.

“Welcome! What can I get you?” the owner asked.

“Give me the biggest bowl you’ve got. And add every topping you’d recommend for the best possible experience. Don’t hold back.”

The owner laughed. “That’s quite a demand! All right, I’ll make you something worth remembering. Just don’t blame me if it’s too delicious to stop eating.”

“That’s exactly what I’m hoping for.”

I paid in advance and waited while he prepared my order.

When the bowl finally arrived, its contents nearly overflowed the rim. The rich broth glistened beneath the lights, carrying the aroma of simmered bones, roasted garlic, and carefully balanced seasonings. Thick noodles lay beneath slices of tender meat, soft-boiled eggs, mushrooms, and an assortment of vegetables. The owner had even added several toppings of his own choosing, apparently determined to live up to his promise.

I took my first mouthful.

Oh, this was good.

The broth was deeply savory, with a richness that coated my tongue without becoming overwhelming. Every ingredient complemented the others, from the sweetness of the meat to the subtle earthiness of the mushrooms. The noodles had just the right amount of bite, absorbing the broth without losing their texture. Even the egg was cooked perfectly, its creamy yolk blending into the soup and making each mouthful more satisfying than the last.

I ate slowly at first, savoring the flavors. Before long, however, my hunger took over, and I began devouring the bowl with renewed enthusiasm.

When I finished, I leaned back and considered the possibility that I might finally feel full.

I didn’t.

“Another one, please!”

The owner stared at me for a moment before breaking into a grin. “Coming right up!”

And so it continued. One bowl became two, then three, and then more than I cared to count. I returned to the building whenever I ran out of cash, asked the thugs for another wad of bills, thanked them, and went back to eating. They were more than happy to oblige, particularly after word spread that I was willing to heal their injuries in exchange for their assistance.

I wasn’t sure whether they thought I was a generous benefactor or some eccentric local deity. Either way, the arrangement worked out rather well for everyone involved.

By the time I was finally satisfied, the ramen stand owner had run out of ingredients and had no choice but to close for the night.

I rose from my seat, feeling considerably better than I had when I’d arrived.

“Thank you for the excellent food,” I told him sincerely. “I’ll remember this place.”

“Th-Thank you, sir!” he stammered, bowing repeatedly. “Please come again!”

“I will.”

I left him to close his stall, my stomach finally content after what felt like an eternity of deprivation. It was a pleasant reminder that even after everything I’d experienced, there were still simple things in life worth appreciating.

With that pressing matter settled, I turned my attention to Ru Qiu.

I’d located him not long ago through Ophanim. Finding him wasn’t the difficult part. The challenge was reaching him without wandering into trouble along the way. Fortunately, I could use my future sight to identify the more dangerous routes, and I wasn’t particularly interested in testing my luck tonight.

I hailed a cab and gave the driver the destination.

The farther we traveled from the city center, the fewer buildings we passed. Eventually, the roads grew rougher, the streetlights became scarce, and the familiar hum of urban life faded into the distance. By the time we reached the outskirts, the driver had begun glancing nervously at the road ahead.

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“This is about as far as I can take you,” he said. “That abandoned town up there was flooded a while back. A lot of people died. They issued evacuation orders, but some residents refused to leave. Then an earthquake opened a massive sinkhole, and the water swallowed the place. Some people were trapped before they could get out.”

He shook his head, his expression growing somber.

“It’s a tragedy. Even now, nobody really knows how stable the ground is. The authorities haven’t made any plans to rebuild, and I wouldn’t be surprised if the whole area sank further someday.”

“Why not just drive me closer?” I asked.

The driver glanced toward the dark road beyond his headlights. “Because I’m not eager to get my car stranded out there, sir. The road’s in bad shape, and if something goes wrong, I won’t have anyone to call for help. Besides, people say strange things happen around that town. I’d rather not take my chances.”

“That’s fine. You can drop me here.”

I paid him and stepped out of the cab.

“Be careful, sir,” he called through the open window. “Street rats and all sorts of unsavory fellows have been nesting around those abandoned buildings. Don’t go wandering into trouble.”

“Thanks for the warning. I’ll be careful.”

The cab turned around and disappeared into the darkness, leaving me alone beside the deserted road.

Ahead lay the remains of a town that had once been full of life.

The road leading into it was cracked and uneven, with weeds sprouting through the asphalt. Abandoned streetlights leaned at odd angles, and the buildings beyond them stood like hollow shells against the night sky. Some had collapsed entirely, leaving heaps of rubble scattered across what had once been residential streets. Others remained upright, their dark windows staring blankly into the distance.

The flood had left its mark everywhere. Mud stains discolored the lower floors of buildings, and the remains of damaged vehicles lay half-buried beneath debris. Here and there, I spotted belongings that had been left behind in the evacuation: a child’s toy, a broken chair, a rusted bicycle. Ordinary things that had outlasted the people who once used them.

The silence was oppressive. No traffic, no distant voices, not even the usual racket of insects. Only the occasional groan of a damaged structure disturbed the stillness, carried on the wind from somewhere deeper in the town.

I consulted Ophanim and studied the possible paths ahead. Some streets led toward unstable ground, while others ended in collapsed buildings or areas where the remnants of the flood had made passage difficult. I marked the routes most likely to lead me into trouble and chose to avoid them.

I wasn’t here to fight anyone. I simply wanted to find Ru Qiu.

Besides, it was dark, and causing a commotion in an abandoned town seemed like a terrible way to spend the evening.

Yes, that sounded reasonable. Violence shouldn’t always be the first option.

After walking for quite some time, I noticed a strange glow in the distance.

It flickered against the darkness, illuminating the ruined waterfront with an orange light. As I drew closer, the smell of smoke reached me, followed by the crackling of an enormous fire.

I emerged from the shadows and stopped.

A massive bonfire burned near the bay. Its flames rose high into the night, casting long, wavering shadows across the ground. The fuel wasn’t wood or discarded furniture. It was a heap of human corpses, piled together and consumed by the fire.

Beyond the flames stood a solitary figure, his silhouette framed against the dark waters.

I recognized him immediately.

“Ru Qiu, what did you do?” I asked, flabbergasted.

He turned his head slightly toward me. “Do you really have to ask?”

I opened my mouth, then stopped.

According to Ophanim, the bodies belonged to people who had perished in the flood. Many had never been recovered, much less given a proper burial. Their remains had lain beneath the water for years, forgotten by the world above.

When I looked toward the bay, Ophanim revealed what ordinary sight could not. Beneath the dark surface lay an entire submerged town. Streets, buildings, and shattered homes stretched across the seabed, preserved in the depths like the remains of a civilization erased from history.

For a moment, I could almost imagine the lives that had once unfolded there. Families gathering for dinner, children playing in the streets, people going about their ordinary routines without realizing how little time they had left. Then the earthquake came, the water rushed in, and everything they had known disappeared beneath the waves.

I had judged Ru Qiu too quickly.

“Sorry,” I said quietly.

“For what?” he asked.

I looked at him, unsure how to explain myself, but he merely shook his head.

“You have nothing to apologize for. How about doing them a favor instead? Pray for them.”

I lowered my head and closed my eyes.

There was no need to pray to the Great Guard faith, a religion built around my own existence. This wasn’t about worship, nor did these people need to acknowledge me as their god. I wanted to reach out to the echoes left behind by those who had died here, gather them, and give them somewhere peaceful to spend the remainder of their existence.

Until the Tower called upon them to play their part, they deserved an eternity free from suffering.

I took a slow breath and began to pray.

“Those who perished beneath these waters, whose names have been forgotten and whose final moments passed without witness, hear me. You have endured long enough in the darkness. Whatever regrets you carried, whatever grief remained unfinished, you need not bear them any longer.

“May the dead find rest. May the lost find their way. Let those who were separated from their loved ones be reunited, and let those who died in fear know peace at last. You owe nothing to the living, and you need not linger in this place for their sake.

“I cannot return the lives you lost, nor can I undo the tragedy that brought you here. But I can offer you a place beyond this sorrow, where you may rest until the end of your days. Come with me, and let this be the last night you spend among the ruins of your former home.”

As the Tower Master, I possessed at least that much authority.

The fact that these echoes were copies of other souls didn’t mean they didn’t exist. They could think, feel, suffer, and remember. Whatever their origins, their experiences were real to them, and that alone was enough to grant them the right to rest when their time came.

The least I could do was provide an afterlife for them.

It was a strange thought, considering that the Tower itself was a kind of afterlife. Yet even within a place that gathered echoes and gave them new roles, there should be room for those who simply wanted to rest.

The flames continued to crackle as my prayer reached the echoes beneath the water. One by one, the lingering traces of their existence answered my call. I gathered them gently, drawing them away from the drowned town and toward a place where they would no longer have to remain bound to their deaths.

When I finally opened my eyes, the weight in my chest had eased.

Ru Qiu watched me for a moment before speaking. “So, what do you want?”

“Straight to business, huh?” I asked, managing a faint smile. “There are a hundred floors in this Tower, and every twenty floors are governed by a Floor Master. I need your help finding the Floor Master of this floor.”

“Who is it?”

“His epithet is the Heavenly Sage.”

Ru Qiu’s expression changed. He studied me for a moment, as though trying to determine whether I’d made a mistake. “Are you talking about the same sage I’m thinking of?”

I nodded. “The Great Sage, Equal to Heaven. The one from Chinese folklore and Journey to the West.”

As a fellow Earthling, Ru Qiu knew exactly whom I meant.

Of course, the Great Sage who ruled this floor wasn’t necessarily the same figure described in Earth’s myths. Still, the resemblance was too striking to dismiss. I had no idea why ancient gods from Chinese mythology had direct representations in this universe, or whether the two were connected in some deeper way. Perhaps it had something to do with the genre conventions governing this world. But that only raised another question: where had the idea of immortal cultivation, and the entire trend surrounding it, originated in the first place?

Had Earth borrowed its myths from somewhere else, or had the stories somehow crossed the boundary between worlds? I had no answers, and the more I learned, the less certain I became about what I thought I understood.

“So, how are we going to find our guy?” Ru Qiu asked.

“The old-fashioned way. We talk to people.” I winced as I considered the prospect. “Ophanim can’t single him out. His Weight of Existence is too heavy, and trying to trace him directly would be a waste of time. But I have an idea where to start. What I need is someone with enough muscle to keep me alive along the way.”

“Muscle, huh?” Ru Qiu muttered, a smirk spreading across his face. “Beg.”

I blinked at him. “Excuse me?”

“Beg.”

“Are you power-tripping right now?”

”Beg.”

“So, how do you want it?” I asked, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “Like a dog, maybe? Certainly something embarrassing, or—”

“Forget about it,” Ru Qiu said abruptly, cutting me off. “Fine. I’ll be your muscle.”

I stared at him for a moment before grinning.

“I wasn’t even finished asking. Or did you realize how sus you sounded?” I taunted him, making no effort to hide my amusement. “You might give Heart a run for his money with how sus you sounded. So, how do you want me to beg?”

“Forget about it, Da Wei,” Ru Qiu snarled, turning around and marching ahead with his embarrassment written all over him.

“Hey, wait for me!”

I hurried after him, though my overstuffed stomach made it difficult to move as quickly as I would have liked. For all the mysteries surrounding the Tower, at least one thing remained reassuringly familiar. Ru Qiu was still Ru Qiu, and apparently, I was still capable of annoying the hell out of him.