Immortal Paladin

The Grand Feast was in full swing. Laughter, music, and the rhythmic beat of festival drums filled the air, seeping into the manor like an unstoppable tide. From the window, I could see dragons—long, twisting constructs of silk and light—dancing through the streets, weaving between glowing lanterns. By the gates, food stalls displayed their finest dishes, their aroma rich enough to make even the most disciplined cultivators falter.

And yet, I had no time to indulge.

I moved deeper into the estate, navigating past servants and guests, searching for Ren Jin’s office. Asking for directions seemed like the quickest way, but I had to be careful. Some people recognized me immediately, whispering to their companions, while others just gave vague gestures and went on with their business.

”Excuse me,” I stopped a passing attendant. ”Do you know where I can find His Highness’ office?”

The man blinked, clearly surprised. ”Ah, Lord Ren Jin? It should be deeper inside, past the second courtyard.”

I thanked him and followed his instructions.

The next person I asked, a guard, narrowed his eyes. ”What business do you have?”

”Official business,” I said vaguely.

He looked unimpressed but pointed me further down the hall.

Eventually, after a few more inquiries, I arrived at the office area. The hall was quieter here, away from the festivities. A lone figure stood by the door—a battle-ready woman in pristine armor, her posture rigid and unmoving.

Chief Enforcer Liang Na.

Her sharp eyes flicked toward me as I approached, her hand resting lightly on the pommel of her sword. I stopped a respectful distance away.

”Chief Enforcer,” I greeted.

She inclined her head slightly. ”State your purpose.”

”I’m here to see Ren Jin.”

She studied me for a moment before speaking again, her voice level. ”Is he expecting you?”

I scratched my cheek. ”I doubt it, but it’s important.”

She didn’t move immediately, assessing me like one would a particularly suspicious guest. Then, without a word, she turned and knocked on the door.

There was something about Liang Na that always felt… off. Not in a sinister way, but in a way that made it hard to believe she was just a Chief Enforcer. She was too composed, too unreadable, like nothing in the world could shake her. Even now, as she pushed the door open at Ren Jin’s permission, her movements were measured and effortless.

Inside, Ren Jin stood from his seat and offered a martial artist’s greeting, fist to palm. I returned the gesture as he sat back down and gestured for me to do the same.

”I owe you an apology,” he said. ”The imperial summons—I didn’t see it coming. Otherwise, I would have given you a heads-up.”

I leaned back in my seat. ”Then I take it you have no say in this?”

Ren Jin exhaled through his nose, looking just a little weary. ”The decree came directly from the Emperor. Even if I had known, I doubt I could have stopped it.”

I clicked my tongue. ”Can’t you tell him I won’t be going?”

He sighed, rubbing his temple. ”That would be… incredibly difficult. And highly unwise.”

”Unwise?”

Ren Jin gave me a flat look. ”It’s an imperial decree, not an invitation you can casually decline. Even if the tone was polite, it carries the weight of the Empire. If you refuse, it won’t just disappear. You’ll be making a statement—one the court won’t take lightly.”

That was troubling. I frowned. ”Do you have any idea why he’s inviting me?”

He hesitated. Then, almost reluctantly, he said, ”I might have been hasty in sending my report about the Great Enemy.”

I blinked. ”Hasty how?”

Ren Jin leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. ”The Emperor has been searching for signs of the Great Enemy for years. My report confirmed that the threat has resurfaced. You, Da Wei, are one of the few people to have fought it directly and lived to tell the tale.”

I stared at him. ”So you’re saying this is about that?”

Ren Jin nodded. ”I can’t be sure, but it’s likely. The Emperor takes these matters seriously. He might want to hear your firsthand account. Or...” He trailed off.

”Or?”

Ren Jin met my gaze. ”Or he might have something else in mind.”

I sat there, turning the thought over in my head. The Emperor knew about the existence of the Great Enemy. More than that, he even used the same denotation I would have used in my mother tongue. That was… unsettling.

I looked at Ren Jin. ”How long have you known about the Great Enemy?”

Ren Jin tapped his fingers on the desk. ”Not long.”

”How much do you know about them?”

He exhaled through his nose. ”Only what you told me.”

I frowned. ”You mean—?”

He nodded. ”Before you explained it, I had no real concept of them. The term was unfamiliar. I sent my report to the Empire, detailing what I had learned from you, and only then did I receive confirmation from above that the Great Enemy was a known entity.”

I narrowed my eyes. ”So you only recently learned what they were, after sending your report?”

”Exactly.”

That was… odd. So the Empire did know something. The question was—how long have they known?

Ren Jin reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a small statue. He set it on the table between us. The moment I saw it, my skin prickled.

It was a demon. Not just any demon—but one exactly like those from Lost Legends Online.

I picked it up, inspecting the craftsmanship. The details were eerily familiar—the sharp, angular features, the way the horns curved, even the texture of the sculpted flesh. It was unmistakable.

”Where did you get this?” I asked.

Ren Jin leaned back. ”It was sent to me after my report reached the Empire. Along with a message: ‘Be wary of devil worshippers.’”

I stared at him. ”That’s it?”

”That’s it.”

That was curious. The Empire knew something. They had their own term for it. They even had iconography matching the demons from LLO. But they hadn’t briefed their own prince about it until after he sent a report?

Just how long had the Empire been aware of the Great Enemy?

Ren Jin tapped the table, his gaze shifting toward the pile of scrolls beside him. ”After the incident with… the Demon, I did some digging.”

I raised an eyebrow. ”Oh?”

Wordlessly, he unrolled the first scroll and slid it across the table toward me. The ink was old but well-preserved. The characters spoke of an event from nine hundred years ago—a calamity that swept across the land, leaving only bones in its wake.

”The Undead Calamity,” Ren Jin said, watching my expression. ”Nine hundred years ago, the dead refused to stay dead. Entire dynasties fell to the relentless tide of walking corpses. No one knows what started it, only that it ended just as suddenly as it began.”

I frowned, flipping through the aged parchment. ”So… cultivators? Some forbidden technique gone wrong?” Best bet, it was necromancers… or maybe it was the Gods of the Underworld Faction ripping out a fabric in reality to stage an invasion.

Ren Jin shook his head. ”No. By all accounts, this wasn’t the work of mortals.”

That was concerning. I set the scroll aside as he pulled out another.

”This one details what happened seven hundred years ago,” Ren Jin continued.

I scanned the text. Unlike the first, this one spoke of a quieter catastrophe. Kingdoms disappeared—not through war, not through plague, but through complete and utter erasure. One day, they were thriving. The next, they were gone.

I looked up. ”You’re telling me entire civilizations just… ceased to exist?”

This sounded like the work of… Angels.

It seemed the Heaven Faction also tried a hand on conquering this world.

Ren Jin’s lips pressed into a thin line. ”There are no remains. No ruins. No records beyond those written after the event.”

A cold weight settled in my stomach. If it weren’t for these historical accounts, no one would have even known those kingdoms ever existed. I pushed the scroll away.

”And this one?” I gestured to the final scroll.

Ren Jin’s expression darkened. ”The Bizarre War.”

I took the parchment and read. Three hundred years ago, something changed. Immortals—those who had reached the pinnacle of cultivation—began to lose their minds. Some vanished. Some turned on their sects. Others waged war on the world itself.

I exhaled. ”So what, insanity? Possession?”

”No one knows,” Ren Jin admitted. ”What is known is that the chaos shook heaven and earth. The war devastated the world. Those who were once revered as protectors became its greatest threats.”

It sounded a hell lot work of the Eldritch Faction.

I set the scroll down and looked at him. ”And this was the most brutal calamity yet?”

Ren Jin nodded. ”It was. The chaos wiped out sects, kingdoms, and entire lineages. But it also provided an opportunity—one my father took full advantage of. It was during this period of instability that the Empire rose to power.”

I absorbed his words, my mind churning. A calamity every few centuries. Each time, the world was reshaped. And now, I was being summoned to the Imperial Capital.

The timing was too convenient.

Okay… let’s review.

Undead Calamity? Definitely the Underworld’s work. Walking corpses rising from the grave and wiping out dynasties sounded like classic necrotic interference.

Vanished civilizations? Probably Heaven. Erasing entire kingdoms with no trace left behind? That reeked of divine meddling.

Immortals going insane and waging war? Yeah, that had Eldritch written all over it. The kind of madness that didn’t come from internal deviation but from something outside the system.

And now, Xianxia Land was about to get the demon experience.

The pattern was obvious. Every few centuries, the Great Enemy made its move, and every time, it failed. The world still stood. The world endured. The Empire still ruled. The major sects still existed.

Props to the denizens of this world for holding their ground… but why? Why did the Great Enemy keep failing? Were they being repelled by something stronger, or was I just misreading the signs?

I rubbed my temples, then looked up at Ren Jin. ”What’s going to happen to Yellow Dragon City?”

Ren Jin leaned back in his chair. ”It depends. With the demon out of the picture, the city will stabilize. The city won’t fall into chaos, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

I nodded. That was one less thing to think about. ”And you?”

He smirked. ”I’m a prince, a governor, and I this is basically my home. I will probably raise funds to empower the military and prepare for the Great Enemy.”

”Figures.” I exhaled and leaned forward. ”I’m thinking of heading to the main continent. Any advice?”

Ren Jin’s smirk faded. ”You’ll find better cultivation techniques there, but you’ll also find more competition. Stronger sects, stronger cultivators, and politics more cutthroat than you can imagine.”

I expected as much. ”And the Emperor? How should I treat him?”

Ren Jin studied me for a moment before answering. ”Carefully.”

”That’s vague.”

”It’s the best advice I can give you.” He leaned forward, voice lowering slightly. ”You’re an outsider, Da Wei. You might have helped the city, but that doesn’t mean the Empire trusts you. The Emperor inviting you to tea is already a rare gesture. If you insult him or refuse, you’ll be making an enemy you cannot afford to make.”

I sighed. ”So basically, smile, bow, and try not to piss him off.”

”More or less.”

”And the Imperial Court?”

Ren Jin’s lips curled into a knowing smile. ”A den of dragons. If you’re lucky, they’ll ignore you. If you’re unlucky, they’ll see you as a threat.”

Great. Just what I needed.

I leaned back in my chair, processing everything. The main continent was a bigger stage, a more dangerous one. But if I wanted answers—and if I wanted to get stronger—I had no choice but to go.

”I think I’ll join the auction,” I said, leaning back in my chair.

Ren Jin raised an eyebrow. ”Oh?”

”I’m curious,” I admitted. ”Thee demon came all the way here and risked exposing himself. He must’ve wanted something really badly. I want to know what it was.”

Ren Jin tapped his fingers on the desk, considering my words. ”That’s not a bad idea. The auction is closed-door, but with your current status and my word, getting in shouldn’t be a problem. I will send someone to you if it comes to it.”

I nodded. ”Might as well see what’s so special.”

”Just be careful,” he said. Ren Jin gave me a knowing look. ”Try not to cause a scene.”

”Duly noted,” I said, standing up. ”What do you take me for, Lord Governor?”

”A walking disaster,” he replied dryly.

I didn’t dignify that with a response.

Stepping out of the office, I took a deep breath. The air smelled of roasted meats, spiced wines, and incense, all blending into a festival’s chaos. The Grand Feast was in full swing.

From the manor window, I could see dragons—puppeted by skilled performers—twisting and turning in the streets below, accompanied by the rhythmic pounding of war drums. Near the gates, long tables overflowed with food, distributed freely to the people. A group of musicians played a lively tune, their instruments ringing above the crowd’s laughter and chatter.

Yellow Dragon City was alive.

And soon, I’d be leaving it behind.

The thought sat oddly in my chest. I never planned to stay here long, but now that my time was running out, I felt a strange reluctance. Maybe it was because this was the first place where I’d really lived in this world—fought battles, made connections, and gotten dragged into problems way beyond my intent.

Or maybe I just liked the food.

Either way, I decided I might as well enjoy the little time I had left here.

I started walking, letting the energy of the festival carry me. Somewhere in this city, the auction would take place. Somewhere among the treasures being sold, I’d find the answer to what Brukhelm had been searching for.

And if it turned out to be something important… well.

I’d make sure it didn’t fall into the wrong hands.