Immortal Paladin

It had been a couple of days since we left Ironmoor City. The shadows of that place still lingered in my mind, but for now, we were in the clear. I had changed from my previous disguise and now wore the Lofty Jade Proposition. For a mere cosmetic item, it was surprisingly comfortable against my skin. More importantly, I only needed a thought to remove it, revealing my divine gear underneath—ready for battle in an instant.

Hei Mao no longer maintained the effects of the Disguise spell. He was back to his usual childish appearance, his red scarf wrapped around his neck. It fluttered slightly with the gentle breeze that passed through the Floating Dragon. The sight of him like this, relaxed and natural, was oddly reassuring.

Lu Gao, on the other hand, had not changed much. His disguise had never been too drastic, but I had to admit—shorter hair suited him. He sat in a corner, clutching the fishbowl, locked in a silent staring contest with Ren Jingyi. The fish remained as expressionless as ever, unblinking, while Lu Gao’s eyes narrowed in intense focus. He was probably having an inner turmoil, since the fish raised her star once more… Sadly, my Divine Possession was on cooldown at that time.

Ren Xun had also swapped out his old attire, shedding the beggar-like merchant disguise he had used previously. Instead of the garish, eye-catching robes he had worn back in Yellow Dragon City, he had opted for something more neutral. It was a wise choice—low-key but not suspiciously plain.

And then there was Dave. He seemed far too comfortable in his new body, the Puppet Armor. It had been an experiment at best, yet he wore it with the ease of someone who had inhabited it for years. I had asked him if it was inconvenient, but he had waved off my concerns.

“I’m fine,” he had said, his voice carrying the same familiar tone, despite the mechanical timbre the armor gave it. “Actually, I think I prefer it this way.”

I didn’t know whether I should be relieved or disturbed.

The Floating Dragon continued its course along the river, the rapids carrying us swiftly downstream. Ren Xun had been the one to suggest following the river’s path.

“It’ll be faster this way,” he had reasoned. “The current boosts our speed. Less effort, and no need to rely solely on the ship’s formations.”

Sitting cross-legged on the deck, I turned to him. “Do you have any idea where the Shadow Clan is?”

Ren Xun merely shrugged. “Shouldn’t be too hard to find.”

“That’s reassuring,” I said dryly.

He smirked, rubbing his chin. “If we ask nicely enough, the local Lords should have the information we need. Unlike in Ironmoor City, they won’t be as paranoid.” He paused, then added, “Probably.”

“Probably?”

Ren Xun sighed. “Ironmoor City had become a powder keg. Everyone was watching everyone else, ready to pounce. It’s different in the outer territories. We might actually find someone willing to speak without trying to stab us in the back.”

I wasn’t sure if I should feel comforted or wary.

One of my few regrets about leaving Ironmoor City was that I never got the chance to poke around. There was a Demonic Cultivator lurking somewhere in that city, hiding in plain sight, and on top of that, a murderer was on the loose. Normally, these were the kind of things that would gnaw at my curiosity, but circumstances forced my hand—I had more pressing matters to attend to.

Still, the thought lingered.

I felt two gazes on me. Hei Mao and Dave.

As my Holy Spirits, they were bound to me on a cosmic level, their thoughts and feelings often overlapping with mine. They must have sensed my dissatisfaction, the nagging feeling of unfinished business.

I shrugged. “No big deal,” I said casually. “We can always circle back later if we really need to.”

Hei Mao tilted his head, his small face filled with uncharacteristic solemnity.

“But…” he hesitated, as if weighing his words.

I held up a hand. “I do have a prior obligation,” I reminded him. “In case you forgot, I have a meeting with the Emperor in—”

“A hundred days?” Ren Xun interrupted with a smirk.

I nodded.

He shook his head. “Seventy-six days now.”

I blinked. Right. Time had slipped away faster than I expected.

Hei Mao looked apologetic.

I waved off his concern. “Talking with the Shadow Clan and learning the truth shouldn’t take that long.”

Ren Xun folded his arms, considering my words. “As long as we leave ourselves at least a thirty-day leeway, we should be able to make it to the Imperial Capital on time.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. Ren Xun had been surprisingly agreeable about this whole detour. Too agreeable. I leaned forward slightly, resting my chin on my knuckles.

“You’re being awfully cooperative,” I mused. “Should I be concerned? Would this get you in trouble?”

Ren Xun chuckled, shaking his head. “It should be fine,” he assured me. “As far as anyone is concerned, you’re free to do whatever you think is right.”

“That’s a very vague answer,” I pointed out.

His smirk widened. “My status as the son of a prince gives me certain… protections.” He waved a hand lazily. “Moreover, my Ren name carries a bit of weight.”

I arched a brow. “You mean it gives you immunity?”

Ren Xun sighed. “Immunity is a strong word. Let’s just say… invoking it might bring too much attention.”

I hummed in thought. Having a prince’s son with us was both an asset and a potential liability.

Gu Jie suddenly spoke up. “What’s so special about the Ren name?”

Her voice was calm, but there was curiosity beneath her words. She wasn’t the only one wondering.

From what I remembered, there was no such thing as a Ren Clan among the Seven Imperial Houses. It wasn’t a name I had come across in any of the records detailing the great noble houses of the Empire. So why did Ren Xun speak of it as if it carried some sort of unspoken authority?

Before answering, Ren Xun tweaked the formations on the boat. A soft hum vibrated through the deck as the Floating Dragon shifted, its weight lifting. A moment later, we were flying.

“The rapids have slowed down,” he explained offhandedly. “Might as well take the faster route.”

He turned back to Gu Jie, folding his arms as he considered his words. “To understand the Ren name, you first have to understand the nature of the Empire itself.”

That got my attention. This wasn’t something I could find in books, so I listened well.

Ren Xun leaned against the railing. “The Grand Ascension Empire is unique,” he said. “Throughout history, empires are built by dynasties, passed from one generation to another. The lineage of rulers dictates the continuation of a dynasty, and when one ends, another takes its place.”

I nodded. That much was common knowledge. The rise and fall of empires was an inevitable cycle.

“But the Grand Emperor was different.”

He glanced at us, eyes glinting with something unreadable. “On the day of his coronation, he declared himself both the beginning and the end of the Grand Ascension Empire. He claimed that there would be no dynasty after him, that his rule would persist until the end of time. That his death would mean the death of the Empire itself.”

The weight of his words settled over us.

I scoffed. “That’s arrogant.”

Ren Xun chuckled. “You’re not the only one who thought so. When he made that declaration, no one believed him. After all, no one can live forever. A cultivator can extend their lifespan, but there are limits. Even in the most ancient Taoist texts, it is said that while one may pursue longevity, true immortality is impossible.”

“And then,” he continued, “the first millennium passed… and the Grand Emperor remained. Looking no older than a middle-aged man.”

Silence.

Even I had to admit, that was impressive. Inhumanly so.

Made me think if he was a vampire himself.

Lu Gao groaned, rubbing his temples. “Is this going to be another long lecture?”

Ren Xun faked a cough. “I was just getting to the point.”

And then he continued his story:

The Seven Imperial Houses were powerful—too powerful, in fact. They were the Grand Emperor’s limbs, but even a ruler’s limbs could develop their own ambitions. They wanted power for themselves. That was their nature. To deny such an instinct would be an act of foolishness itself.

And so, after a thousand years of waiting, they schemed.

They tried to manipulate the Emperor, hoping that his long life had softened his mind. They disguised their ambitions behind flowery words and high-minded ideals. They spoke of the common people, of democracy, of the need for a new system. They urged him to step down, claiming it was time to pass the throne to the next generation, to evolve beyond the tyranny of a single ruler.

At first, the Grand Emperor ignored them.

Then he grew annoyed.

And when the Grand Emperor became annoyed… he acted.

“For the first time in his thousand-year reign,” Ren Xun said, “he took women to his bed.”

I nearly choked. “Wait, what?”

Ren Xun’s lips twitched. “You heard me.”

“No, no, I mean—are you telling me that for a thousand years, the Grand Emperor was a virgin?”

It was a stupid question. I knew my priorities were completely out of place, but… I couldn’t help it.

Hei Mao stared at me in horror. Lu Gao remained impassive. Gu Jie had a complicated expression on her face, as if she, too, couldn’t quite decide how to react.

Ren Xun, for his part, gave a helpless shrug. “It’s true. The Emperor possessed restraint beyond mortal comprehension. For a thousand years, he remained untouched by the pleasures of the flesh. Some would call him a great hero among heroes for such discipline.”

I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to be impressed or terrified.

“But,” Ren Xun continued, “when the Seven Imperial Houses grew too loud, he finally lost his patience. And so, in a single night, he bedded the most powerful women from each of the Seven Imperial Houses.”

Silence.

“…You’re telling me his solution to court politics was to—?”

“Yes.”

“…And that worked?”

Ren Xun smirked. “It worked perfectly.”

Each of the seven women bore him a child, and the Grand Emperor, ever the pragmatist, used this to his advantage. He granted each child a vast territory to govern, forcing the Seven Imperial Houses to focus on their own bloodlines.

In an instant, the imperial court—once a nest of scheming snakes—turned into a battlefield of succession.

Instead of plotting against the Emperor, they now fought amongst themselves.

However, the story didn’t end there.

“The Emperor,” Ren Xun said, eyes gleaming with amusement, “was feeling particularly petty. And so, he made another declaration.”

I raised an eyebrow. “What kind of declaration?”

“He declared that the common people deserved a representative as well.”

“…What?”

Ren Xun’s smirk widened. “And so, in front of the gathered court, on the golden throne of the Empire itself, the Grand Emperor bedded a commoner woman.”

Dead silence.

Gu Jie looked deeply disturbed.

Hei Mao, despite being a Holy Spirit, was blushing furiously.

Lu Gao remained unshaken—clearly, he had heard this story before.

I, meanwhile, was still trying to process what I had just heard. “Hold on. You’re telling me he did the deed in the throne room? In front of everyone?”

Ren Xun nodded. “Demonstrating his bravery.”

That… that was certainly a way to describe it.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “…And let me guess. The child that came from this act of ‘bravery’ was—?”

Ren Xun nodded. “My father.”

I stared at him.

“The Emperor gave him the Ren surname,” Ren Xun said. “He then declared that should his son, Ren Jin, suffer an untimely death or any unfortunate calamity, he would eradicate the Seven Imperial Houses.”

And that, I realized, was the real masterstroke.

It wasn’t enough to force the imperial Houses into infighting. The Grand Emperor made them protect the very child who symbolized everything they hated. With a single move, he turned their power against them, ensuring that none would dare lay a finger on Ren Jin.

No wonder the Ren name carried weight. No wonder Ren Xun claimed he could act as freely as he did.

“…Your grandfather is a terrifying man,” I muttered.

Ren Xun laughed. “That, Senior Da Wei, is an understatement.”

I imagined that, in reality, the Seven Imperial Houses were simply waiting for the Emperor to die while preserving their own power. The Black Clan was probably no different.

Ren Xun eventually brought the Floating Dragon down under the cover of trees.

”There’s a city a few kilometers from here,” he said. ”I’ll go gather information. You all stay here.”

Gu Jie frowned. ”Are you sure that’s wise? The last time we split up, we got tangled up in Ironmoor and wasted days.”

Ren Xun waved her concern away. ”I know the lord of this city. His father was a good friend of mine.”

I pulled out a set of Magic Scrolls, handing one to each of them.

”These are Great Teleportation scrolls,” I said. ”If anything goes wrong, use them to get back here immediately.”

Gu Jie cupped her fists and bowed. ”I will not fail this task.”

Dave thumped his metal chest before leaping off the boat.

Ren Xun smirked. ”Thanks, Senior. I’ll be back soon with good news..”

I watched as the three of them disappeared into the trees, leaving me to my thoughts.

“Dave, listen up.”

I activated Voice Chat, connecting to Dave. His presence flickered into my awareness, a faint thread of will intertwining with my own.

”I need you to debrief Ren Xun about the vampires. Give him every detail we have. Whoever’s pulling the strings needs to be stopped, and I can’t be everywhere at once.”

“Understood, My Lord.” There was a pause before Dave responded. ”Does His Lordship want him to spread the word?”

”Exactly. We need the leaders of Deepmoor Continent to be aware of what’s coming. Whether they believe it or not, they have to make preparations. Vampires aren’t just monsters—they’re a force capable of reshaping the balance of power. Even if we don’t know whether we were dealing with the real stuff, it still wouldn’t hurt to be cautious.”

Dave let out a short hum of acknowledgment. ”I’ll do my best to make a convincing case, My Lord. Ren Xun’s got connections, and his words won’t be ignored. But My Lord do realize this could stir up a lot of unwanted attention?”

I exhaled slowly. ”That’s the idea. Better they prepare for a war that never comes than wake up to a battlefield they can’t escape.”

”Fair point. I’ll handle it.” Dave’s presence faded from my awareness as he focused on the task at hand. “Take care, My Lord.”

I hoped… I was just being paranoid.