Immortal Paladin

Tao Long was a streak of lightning across the sky, his serpentine form twisting and coiling through the heavens as if he were a living conduit of divine power. The wind howled around him, but he paid it no mind. His focus was singular—his target, the one from Shouquan’s prophecy. But the world was vast, and even a dragon of his stature could not bend space to his will.

Continents were never meant to be crossed in an instant. Even for him, a Divine Flood Dragon, the sheer distance was an obstacle he could not simply ignore. The power of heaven and earth accelerated his speed, but the heavens had their limits, and the earth had its restraints. And he was already too late.

Dawn had begun to set in, the first rays of sunlight peeking over the horizon, but they brought no warmth, no promise of renewal. Instead, they cast light upon a scene of ruin.

Tao Long’s elementalized, serpentine form slithered through the sky before coming to an abrupt halt. His draconic body solidified, storm-forged scales shimmering before peeling away, revealing his humanoid form. In a final flash of lightning, he stood as a man once more, high above the carnage.

His breath hitched.

Below him, the lake that surrounded the Shadow Clan’s island was no longer a lake; it was an abyss, suffused with a dark miasma so thick it had become a suffocating fog. The once-still waters churned with something unnatural, something defiled.

By the shore, the remnants of battle lay strewn across the land: blood, bodies, broken weapons, and shattered hopes. Gore splattered the rocks and sand, staining the ground in a manner that only slaughter could.

And in the middle of it all stood a man.

At first glance, his presence was unremarkable. His spiritual pressure was deceptive, subtle, as if it wished to be ignored. Were it not for Shouquan’s prophecy, Tao Long would have dismissed him entirely. But he knew better.

Beside the man, a little girl knelt in the bloodstained sand, sobbing. Her presence caught Tao Long’s attention, not just because of her grief, but because of her bloodline. A trace of something sacred lingered within her, something ancient. Koi.

The sky darkened.

A crimson hue spread across the heavens, as if the very world mourned what had happened here. Malicious qi lingered in the air, thick and cloying, a stain upon the natural order.

Tao Long did not hesitate. He descended.

Lightning crackled as he landed upon the shore with a resounding blast, the sheer force of his arrival parting the fog for a brief moment.

The little girl did not react. She remained on her knees, hands clenched into fists, her tears mixing with the blood-soaked ground.

The man stood still, staring between his fingers at something unseen, something intangible. Ash drifted through the air, weightless and unbound, dissolving into the crimson sky.

Tao Long’s presence demanded recognition. His bloodline roared within him, ancient and mighty. He did not whisper his name. Instead, he proclaimed it, his voice booming like the thunder that heralded his storms.

“I am Tao Long, the Divine Flood Dragon!”

Still, the man did not look at him.

Tao Long narrowed his eyes, his majesty pressing upon the battlefield like a decree from the heavens themselves.

“What did you do?” he demanded.

Silence.

His gaze shifted to the little girl. “You,” he addressed her, softening his tone slightly. “What happened here?”

She lifted her face, tear-streaked and empty, but she did not speak. She only stared.

Tao Long’s eyes swept over the carnage once more. His mind raced, filling in the gaps. The devastation, the miasma, the unnatural qi in the air. This was not an ordinary battle. Something had gone terribly, terribly wrong.

His gaze returned to the man. “Did you do this?”

Finally, the man looked at him.

His eyes were hollow. Grief-stricken.

His voice, when it came, was quiet, but it carried the weight of something irrevocable.

“I made a choice,” he said. “That’s what happened.”

Tao Long stilled.

The man was drowning in sorrow. Whatever had happened here, whatever destruction had been wrought, he was at its center. But he was not in a state to answer, not truly.

Tao Long exhaled slowly.

This was not what he had expected.

Tao Long’s gaze remained locked onto the man as he finally spoke. His voice was steady, but there was something hollow beneath it, a depth of grief that could not be concealed.

“I just killed my disciple,” the man said.

Tao Long’s expression darkened. He studied him carefully, sensing no falsehood, only sorrow.

“I could tell through my Divine Sense,” the man continued. “It was the only choice. Shenyuan would have escaped if I hadn’t finished him there and then.”

As his words fell upon the bloodstained shore, the very earth beneath them trembled. A low rumble echoed through the land, as though the island itself groaned in agony. The crimson light in the sky twisted, thickening into a dense fog. And then...

A mirage appeared in the center of the island.

Tao Long stiffened. It was massive, towering over the island like an omen. Though flickering like an illusion, its presence was undeniable. The shape of a colossal gate loomed within the mist, ancient and foreboding, its surface etched with unfathomable symbols.

The little girl wiped her tears, staring at the apparition with wide eyes. “What’s that?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

The man’s gaze did not waver. “That’s a Hell’s Gate,” he said. Then, after a pause, he added, “But an incomplete one.”

Tao Long’s brows furrowed. Hell’s Gate?

Despite his time within the Ward, despite the vast knowledge he had accumulated, he had never heard of such a thing. But the name Shenyuan... that, he knew.

Shenyuan.

The One True Death.

The Abyss.

The Eternal Heir.

A peer of Shouquan himself.

Tao Long’s hands clenched into fists. He had never expected to hear that name again, let alone under these circumstances. The Grand Emperor should have ended that old monster long ago. And yet...

He forced himself to focus, pushing back the tide of thoughts threatening to overwhelm him.

His gaze returned to the man. “Was it you?” Tao Long asked, his voice sharp. “Did you summon the Hell’s Gate?”

The man met his eyes and nodded. “Not by choice,” he said. “It was the consequence of killing Shenyuan.”

Tao Long narrowed his eyes. “Explain.”

The man exhaled, the weight of his next words evident in his expression. “Shenyuan prepared for his own demise. He used a unique mechanism, one that would trigger upon his death. An incomplete Hell’s Gate would be summoned, and his subordinated demons across the Empire would be driven into a frenzy.”

Silence stretched between them.

Tao Long felt his breath catch. A scheme of this scale… even for an immortal monster like Shenyuan, this was too much.

A slow rage began to build within him. This was not just one tragedy. This was a calamity waiting to unfold.

Before he could gather his thoughts, the little girl, still kneeling beside the man, clenched her fists. Her small frame trembled with barely contained fury.

“They all deserve to die,” she muttered. “The bad people. Every...”

Before she could finish, the man placed a hand on her head, silencing her gently. His fingers combed through her hair, and his other hand gave her shoulder an affectionate rub.

She flinched slightly, but after a moment, she leaned into his touch.

Tao Long’s mind raced as he pieced everything together.

Shouquan’s prophecy…

It had spoken of an unprecedented calamity, a tragedy that would shake the very foundations of the Empire. And now, as he stood amidst the ruins of the Shadow Clan’s island, gazing at the man and the little girl, he realized the truth.

This was it.

The prophecy was no longer a warning of what was to come. It had already happened. The Empire’s fate had been sealed, and there was nothing he could do to change it.

His grip tightened. He had come too late.

The man exhaled softly, his gaze settling on the little girl beside him.

“Take care, Jingyi’er,” he murmured. His voice was gentle and affectionate. “And know that I will always cherish you.”

Ren Jingyi’s tired, teary eyes looked up at him, confusion flickering across her face.

Before she could respond, the man pulled out a piece of parchment and tore it.

A golden spell formation erupted around the girl. She blinked, swayed, and then collapsed unconscious.

Tao Long’s frown deepened. “What are you...”

The man turned to him. “I need a favor.”

Tao Long’s storm-filled eyes studied him warily. He did not like the weight in the man’s tone.

“I will hear you out,” he said carefully. 

Tao Long came here, intent on slaughtering the Outsider, but...

The man nodded. “No matter what happens, you must take Ren Jingyi to the Riverfall Continent. There, you will entrust her to a man named Jiang Zhen.”

Tao Long’s frown did not ease. He had never heard of this Jiang Zhen, but the way the man spoke of him made it clear this was no ordinary request. ”How dare you...”

Before he could respond, the man’s eyes narrowed slightly. “What is your weapon of choice?”

The sudden question threw Tao Long off. He hesitated, but still answered truthfully. “A spear.”

The man reached into an invisible gap in space and procured a pristine spear, blue and white in color, gleaming with power. With a casual toss, he threw it toward Tao Long.

Tao Long caught it instinctively. The moment his fingers closed around the shaft, he felt the surge of divine energy within it. This was no ordinary weapon.

“That spear is Drakon Mar,” the man said. “It is your payment.”

Tao Long studied the weapon, then returned his gaze to the man. “…You’re bribing me?”

“I am compensating you, got it from an auction... and I think I might have been wrong in its appraisal. Know that it’s a dual attribute weapon: both holy and draconic. Anyways, you can have it. Be duly reminded it’s a loan, so don’t be overeager to claim it for yourself.”

The storm dragon warrior exhaled sharply. There was something about this whole exchange that unsettled him.

The man’s eyes sharpened. “Will you do as I ask? Answer me.”

For the first time, Tao Long felt the weight of the man’s presence.

The pressure was overwhelming.

It was not the oppressive aura of raw power that came from high-level cultivators flaunting their superiority. This was something more subtle… more terrifying. It was the feeling of absolute danger.

‘If I refuse, I will suffer. No… I will die…’

Tao Long’s instincts screamed it at him. This was the first time he met an Outsider, exuding such danger.

He gritted his teeth. He did not enjoy being forced into a decision, but neither did he see another choice.

“…Yes,” he finally answered. ”I will fulfill your requirements.”

The man’s gaze lingered for a moment. Then he nodded. “Good. You didn’t lie. While you are a stranger to me, it doesn’t mean I can’t trust you. I want you to value my trust. Fail me, and let’s just say... my friends wouldn’t take kindly to you... Just like me, they can detect lies.”

Tao Long frowned. “Is that a threat?” It was definitely a threat, one he was unsure was true or not, however, this man indeed had friends pertaining to a certain duo. ”You are lucky my draconic nature demanded I take this treasure. I appreciate the irony of you giving me a dragon-slaying spear. Truly amusing.”

The man did not answer. He simply turned away.

“Pick up the girl,” he ordered. “And go.”

Tao Long ground his teeth but said nothing.

Then, a deep groan echoed across the island.

He snapped his head toward the Hell’s Gate.

The massive doors, sealed moments ago, were now… moving.

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, the gate was being pried open.

Tao Long’s chest tightened.

Whatever was coming…

They did not have much time.

Tao Long tightened his grip around Ren Jingyi’s unconscious form, securing her in his arms before turning to the man one last time.

“What is your name?” he asked.

The man smiled faintly. “If you ever meet the Emperor, tell him Da Wei apologizes for being unable to attend his invitation for tea. Wish him misfortune on my stead, because fuck him.”

Tao Long’s gaze flickered with recognition. Da Wei…? It was a curious name for an Outsider. He did not know the name, but for a man to casually mention the Emperor as if he had been personally invited… However, the way Da Wei referenced the Emperor was filled with contempt.

With a slow nod, Tao Long remarked, “Rest assured, the little girl will be sent to the man you requested.”

Da Wei said nothing, only watching as Tao Long activated his movement technique.

A streak of lightning shot through the sky.

Tao Long ascended rapidly, pushing himself higher and higher, yet, no matter how far he flew, the Hell’s Gate still loomed over him.

The sheer size was suffocating.

Then, it opened.

A monstrous presence surged forth.

From the depths of the gate, a horned creature so gigantic it had to crouch just to force its way into this world emerged.

A wave of malicious qi flooded the battlefield.

Tao Long clenched his teeth. “By the heavens…” Comparing his size in his full draconic form, he was probably bigger, but still…

Da Wei took a step forward, ascending into the air. With each step, golden radiance bloomed beneath his feet, leaving a trail of light in the darkness.

Then, Da Wei took a deep breath... And roared!

The sky shuddered. The ground trembled.

Tao Long’s eyes widened. The technique was unmistakable.

Lion’s Roar.

A basic martial technique, yet in Da Wei’s hands, it shook the heavens.

The colossal demon rushed forward, its presence like a tidal wave of destruction.

The island crumbled beneath its weight. Buildings and structures that once stood as part of the Shadow Clan’s stronghold collapsed as it advanced.

Then, the demon swung its massive arm, an arc of destruction descending upon Da Wei.

Tao Long instinctively held his breath.

Yet...

Da Wei did not move.

The arm connected.

And then...

It shattered.

The demon’s limb exploded, flesh and bone bursting apart, leaving only a string of mangled, barely attached muscle.

Blood and gore rained down.

Da Wei, bathed in the carnage, stood in the air.

Unbothered.

Unharmed.

Even as Tao Long streaked across the sky with Ren Jingyi in tow, he could not resist turning his gaze back toward the island. With a breath, he activated a technique, sharpening his vision beyond his cultivation.

Da Wei.

A lone figure stood against the tide of darkness.

There was something utterly fascinating about a single warrior blocking an entire army by himself. It was a sight that defied reason, that defied fate.

The Hell’s Gate loomed, its presence suffocating, as yet another gargantuan demon emerged from its depths.

Tao Long could scarcely believe it. Even from so far away, he could see its massive size, its hulking form dwarfing the very island and lake beneath it.

And yet, Da Wei did not waver.

The warrior now wore a helm, obscuring his face. He stood alone, bathed in golden radiance, a single light amidst an endless abyss.

The demons swarmed like an ocean, an endless tide of horror and madness.

The last thing Tao Long saw before he turned away was a brilliant flash of light.

And at its center was... a bloodied warrior, carving his way through the horde.