Immortal Paladin

It had been a month since Lu Gao and I went into seclusion. But instead of meditating in a cave like proper cultivators, we had claimed a small portion of the hillside as our personal training ground. It wasn’t as romantic as those old cultivation stories made it sound—no mystical waterfall, no ancient ruins, just a lot of trial and error under the open sky.

Thanks to my evolved Divine Possession, I had been able to stay inside Lu Gao’s body for an extended period, refining our understanding of Blessed Weapon and other techniques. With each session, we were getting closer to breaking past the limitations of conventional techniques imposed by the Paladin Legacy, pushing both his martial arts and my skills into a realm beyond what this world recognized.

Using Divine Possession continuously had been tough on me. It wasn’t as simple as taking over a body and calling it a day. Maintaining it required expending a spell slot and mana daily, meaning I had to carefully manage my resources to not exhaust myself into a coma. Still, this method had accelerated our training tremendously.

But that wasn’t the only thing that happened in the past month.

Joan D’Arc and Alice… were here.

When Hei Yuan first revealed the Shadow Clan’s latest intelligence to Dave, I nearly made the hasty decision of abandoning everything to track them down. But we had no leads, except for one troubling name: the Eternal Undeath Cult.

I could feel it in my bones. Something big was going to happen here in Deepmoor.

Even Gu Jie felt it. She had prophesied that a powerful misfortune was accumulating within the Shadow Clan itself. If something major was coming, this was ground zero.

And if that was the case, fleeing might have been the correct answer.

But that wasn’t the answer we wanted.

Hei Mao wouldn’t be satisfied with just leaving. His past, his lineage—there were too many unanswered questions. To the boy, there were a lot of stakes for him. Ren Xun had proposed two possibilities:

1. The Shadow Clan was collaborating with the Cult.

2. The Cult wanted something from the Clan, and that’s why the misfortune was gathering.

Either way, trouble was brewing.

With all this in mind, I had given the order for everyone to focus on increasing their cultivation and strength as much as possible.

As for Ren Xun, I had tasked him with the delicate mission of negotiating with Hei Yuan.

I could only hope that Hei Yuan would listen.

That aside...

I had learned a lot in the past month.

For example, bypassing the cooldown restriction of normal skills by channeling more mana into them. It was a simple concept in theory, but the execution required an absurd amount of precision and control—too much mana, and the skill would destabilize; too little, and it wouldn’t activate at all.

What’s more, I had discovered that certain skills could be empowered if I poured additional mana into them. This only worked on evolved skills, but even then, the results were astonishing. A simple technique could become something far beyond its original limits, as if I were breaking the very laws that governed this world’s system.

”Agh... Tis my woe...”

Lu Gao let out a groan, stretching his limbs. His expression was calm, but I could tell he was feeling stiff after another grueling session.

”Should we switch?” he asked, rolling his shoulders. ”It’s not that I am ungrateful, Master... but...”

I rejected the idea immediately. ”No. You need to get used to your new body.”

Lu Gao sighed but didn’t argue. He knew I was right.

His left arm, once no different from the rest of his body, was now pitch black, a writhing mass of contained power.

The demonic taint inside him had been a hidden factor, something we only discovered after countless experiments. Instead of trying to purge it, we had redirected it, concentrating it into a single limb—his left arm. By doing so, we had turned it into something beyond flesh, something that could be wielded as a weapon rather than a curse.

And from that process, Hollow Point: Incursion was born.

It was a technique created from the clash of demonic taint and spiritual purity, a violent but controlled explosion of two opposing forces. Of course, Lu Gao no longer needed to push himself to dangerous extremes to use it—after mastering the technique, he could activate it at will.

”So how do you feel?” I asked.

”Never been better, Master.”

Lu Gao took a deep breath, channeling mana into his lungs, using the Hollow Breath Technique.

A technique that had proven to be shockingly compatible with replicating qi cultivation through mana. It was through this method that we had developed Mana Road Cultivation, a means to bypass traditional cultivation limits and create something entirely new.

”I miss my sword, though,” remarked Lu Gao. ”I know I shouldn’t be picky, but...”

Lu Gao’s sword had long since splintered from overuse. But that didn’t matter.

He didn’t need it.

He clenched his blackened fist, mana swirling around it like a vortex, and stepped forward.

With a sharp exhale, he drove his fist into the ground—Hollow Point: Incursion.

The earth shuddered beneath us, and in the next instant, purple flames erupted everywhere, consuming the hillside in a chaotic, twisting blaze. Lu Gao managed to perform such a feat, even with his broken dantian, and this was all thanks to Mana Road Cultivation.

What was Mana Road Cultivation?

It was a method that Lu Gao and I devised together, a way to cultivate without meridians or a dantian—something no native of this world would have even considered possible. It worked by saturating the body with mana, forcefully stimulating qi in the process.

Another way to put it? We were tricking the body into thinking it was cultivating.

It wasn’t without its flaws. Unlike true cultivation, Mana Road Cultivation didn’t extend lifespan, nor did it grant the mystical abilities that cultivators gained through the refining of their essence, bloodline, or soul.

But it followed the same ranking system, emitting the same pressure as an equivalent cultivator of the same rank. The only difference? There were no minor categorizations, no stars to denote the progress within a realm. You either advanced, or you didn’t.

In terms of power-ups, unique attributes, or advantages of this cultivation method, we still have nothing on that front, but the theory was sound. It would take time to know just how good this cultivation method was, but so far, no complications had arisen in practicing the Mana Road Cultivation.

”Master, thank you for this opportunity—”

”Less yapping, more cultivating,” I shut down Lu Gao rather quickly. ”In the end, this is all a product of your hard work and providence, so don’t attribute your success to me. We know too little of what exactly we are doing, and we can’t be sure for certain that the Mana Road Cultivation is the right path. We are making progress. That’s good, but we must also be wary every step on the way.”

Speaking of progress, our research into this system had also led to another major revelation—the reason why I had always perceived qi as particles while mana felt like waves.

The explanation was simple:

· Mana traveled in waves, originating from the Great Subconscious—the unseen force that connected all minds, memories, and possibilities.

· Qi, on the other hand, was static—it existed between Heaven and Earth, bound by the fundamental laws of this world.

In truth, Qi never actually moved. The way cultivators hoarded it, gathered it into their meridians and cores, created the illusion of movement. But what they called “Qi” was likely just life force, vigor—some aspect of existence they had mistaken for an energy they could control.

It made sense why mana and qi were incompatible. Mana was fluid, ever-changing, adapting to the mind’s intent. Qi was fixed, shaped by natural laws.

I let out a breath, shaking my head. There was still too much to unpack. But for now, I had to focus.

Lu Gao spoke.

”I’m ready.”

He reached into his robes, withdrawing a tome—a thick, ancient-looking book with a white cover emblazoned with golden scripture. The White Path of the Paladin Legacy.

We had deliberately avoided using it until now.

Using a Legacy Advancement Book was a guaranteed way to accelerate his growth, unlocking Innate Knowledge and allowing him to use my skills with greater ease.

But that would have defeated the entire purpose of our experiment.

If Lu Gao had unlocked his Immortal Soul from the start, Lu Gao could have immediately gained an instinctual understanding of my abilities while under Divine Possession. There would have been no need to develop new techniques—no Hollow Breath, no Hollow Point: Incursion, no Mana Road Cultivation.

We wouldn’t have learned anything.

”Are you sure?” I asked. ”Once you open that book, there’s no turning back. It’ll bind itself to your soul, and your path as a Paladin will be set in stone. From here on, you’ll be walking a path not most would dare walk... One day, you’ll have to swear an Oath. Dedicate yourself to a cause. Find the meaning of ’God’ in ways that mattered. The challenges would escalate dramatically once you accept to inherit the Legacy of the Paladins, and it was an understatement to say it would affect your way of life severely. ”

Lu Gao smirked, his pitch-black left arm shimmering with restrained power.

”I’ve already made my choice,” he said. ”It’s time to see how far I can go, Master.”

I was still inside his body, sitting in the back seat under the effect of Divine Possession, so I could feel it all—the eagerness buzzing beneath his skin, the expectations brimming in his heart, the hope that shone in the depths of his soul.

It was overwhelming, almost suffocating in its purity.

But I didn’t hesitate.

”You’re free to do as you like,” I told him. ”I trust you, disciple.”

With those words, his emotions shifted.

Eagerness transformed into action.

Expectations became commitment.

Hope turned into certainty.

Lu Gao exhaled and reached for the Legacy Advancement Book. The golden-embossed tome rested on his lap, emanating a faint, holy radiance—it was a direct fragment of the System, something that would rewrite his very being. And then he tried opening the book, but failed…

Nothing happened.

The book remained closed.

Lu Gao furrowed his brows and tried again, pressing his hand against the cover. He poured his will into it, his intent, but the tome remained stubbornly shut as he tried to pry it open.

“Ngggh…”

A silence stretched between us.

It seemed Lu Gao wasn’t so lucky that he might be carrying an Immortal Soul like Gu Jie or Fan Shi.

Lu Gao asked, ”Master… how are souls even immortalized?”

As he continued struggling with the tome, his voice was calm, but I could tell he was thinking, trying to understand the reason behind his failure. To an extent, Lu Gao was aware of how my power system worked. It was part of his education, so it wasn’t strange for him to ask about Immortal Souls or allude to it.

I gave him the answer as naturally as breathing.

”A soul’s immortality is innate,” I said. ”The soul exists beyond life and death—it’s eternal in itself. What the Legacy Advancement Book does is awaken that eternity, express it in a way that the world can see.”

Lu Gao nodded slowly, still staring at the unmoving tome. ”Then why won’t mine awaken?”

I exhaled, trying to piece together what small lore knowledge I could offer. ”Because… not all souls are robust enough or have enough history to manifest their true potential.”

That was the truth. Back in LLO, the only NPCs who could awaken their Legacies were the ones who were reincarnations of past champions, or had souls that had accumulated enough meaning.

The System recognized weight. If a soul was too young, too blank, it simply lacked the foundation to unlock the true path of a Legacy.

Lu Gao looked down at the book. His voice was quiet, thoughtful.

”Then… I cannot open it.”

There was no bitterness in his tone, no resentment. Just a simple statement of fact.

”Then let me try,” I said. ”I’ve been wanting to test this... I hope this works...”

I switched with Lu Gao, taking control of his body. The moment my hands touched the book, I felt resonance—a sense of connection that hummed deep in my bones.

The tome shuddered as I pried it open… but it didn’t turn to motes of light.

I immediately understood why.

”I already have the White Skill Path unlocked,” I muttered. “So this is understandable.”

Back in LLO, I had only obtained a few skills from the White Paladin tree, but I never fully advanced into the White Path. Skill Points were very expensive after all, and I only picked skills I needed from the White Path.

I switched back to Lu Gao, allowing him to regain control.

And this time—

The book dissolved into countless motes of light, streaming into his body.

Lu Gao inhaled sharply, his aura fluctuating wildly as the Paladin Legacy surged through him. His Immortal Soul had awakened.

I watched the process with interest, my mind racing with new possibilities.

So… this was a convenient loophole.

If I had enough Legacy Advancement Books, I could theoretically awaken any number of mortals to a Paladin Legacy, as long as I opened the book first before handing it off. Was it necessary to do it while under the effect of Divine Possession, or could I just pry them open and hand them?

I wouldn’t know, unless I tried them.

A sense of pride swelled within me, expressing it through my heart and sharing it with Lu Gao.

“Congratulations,” I said. “You’ve taken your first steps into the White Path.”

Lu Gao took a deep breath, still feeling the lingering effects of the Legacy Advancement Book settling into his soul. His body trembled, not with weakness but with overflowing power, and his foundation strengthened in ways it never had before.

We had achieved our goal—one month of relentless training, testing, and refining. Mana Road Cultivation, Hollow Point: Incursion, the evolution of Hollow Breath Technique, and now Lu Gao’s advancement into a Paladin.

Was it realistic to get this far in just a month?

For others, probably not.

But for us, it had been a stroke of luck, a series of breakthroughs, each pushing us toward something greater.

”It’s been a month now...” I remarked softly. ”Let’s return to the others.”

”Yes, Master!”

It was time to return to the others.

I just hoped Ren Xun had convinced Hei Yuan about the impending threat. As Gu Jie had prophesied, something big was coming, and I needed the Shadow Clan to be ready.

Ren Xun had Dave’s support—if anyone could turn the tables, it was them.

I was about to activate Zealot’s Stride when my Divine Sense flared in warning.

A hundred hostile presences.

One, two, three… no, five… no—more than a hundred.

Their auras ranged from Mind Enlightenment to Will Reinforcement, with a handful of Spirit Mystery experts mixed in.

Lu Gao’s cultivation was only at Will Reinforcement, but with Divine Possession boosting him, he was roughly at Jiang Zhen’s level. If I were to take the wheel and lock in, I should be able to elevate our combat potential to an exponential degree.

 But was it enough?

Right on time, Dave’s Voice Chat suddenly connected to me.

“My Lord—Shadow Clan’s under attack!” Dave’s voice was urgent, but still controlled.

My thoughts snapped into place.

Dave didn’t have an Item Box, but he could use Voice Chat like I could—at least that made communication easier. Since he was in control of the main body, he should be able to use the Item Box, giving me confidence that he and the others would be fine.

“Prioritize protecting our people,” I ordered. “I’ll be there as soon as I can…”

I cut the connection.

A dozen black-masked cultivators finally stepped out from the shadows, surrounding me. Their dark porcelain masks were carved with bloody scriptures, their silent presence exuding nothing but hostility.

Shadow Clan was several hundred kilometers away... or maybe more.

At my fastest speed, I could probably make it back in thirty minutes or less.

…Much less, considering the current Lu Gao under Divine Possession was faster and stronger than we started.

I studied the masked cultivators, my voice sharp.

“What do you want?”

No answer.

Instead, their spiritual pressure spiked, talismans appearing in their hands.

I didn’t waste time.

I bolted.

Zealot’s Stride activated, propelling me forward to buy time for my skill, but—

From the shadows above, dozens more cultivators intercepted me, blades gleaming.

My body reacted instantly—

Flash Step!

I displaced myself, dodging the incoming sword strikes. In the next breath, I was already stepping into the air, running toward the Shadow Clan’s direction.

While moving, I channeled power into Egress, preparing to teleport back—but then—

Something went wrong.

I felt it through Divine Sense.

Multiple lives were suddenly snuffed out.

The ones holding talismans—they were the first to die.

My eyes widened.

A sacrificial spell.

I thought of using Featherhome, but they were faster.

I barely had time to blink before—

—The familiar hill, landscape, and masked cultivators vanished.

I was suspended in midair, looking down at an endless blackened forest.

”Where… is this?”