Immortal Paladin

”Let’s go see the Emperor,” I said.

Xin Yune nodded and pulled out a talisman. A moment later, space twisted around us, and we warped out of the facility.

The world snapped back into place.

We were back at the abandoned warehouse.

”So, to the Emperor it is,” Xin Yune remarked. Then, with a casual shrug, she added, ”Please don’t kill His Majesty. A lot of people are gonna suffer if you do.”

I glanced at her, frowning.

What?

Was she taking hostage of the common folk or something? Why the playful tone?

I could tell… this wasn’t her seducing me or anything like that. She was being too carefree.

Just what was her angle?

”I’m just a Will Reinforcement cultivator,” I told her.

She snorted. ”We both know you’re more than that, Defeater of Hell’s Gate, God of War, Great Protector.”

I stopped walking.

I narrowed my eyes. ”What was that about?”

I vaguely remembered the Emperor calling me God of War before I lost consciousness, but I hadn’t paid much attention at the time.

Xin Yune tilted her head. ”The Emperor wields the Heavenly Eye. He can see into the past, present, and future. Within the Empire, the Emperor is omniscient.”

I studied her carefully.

Again, not a lie.

It was getting suspicious how genuinely honest Xin Yune had been.

I exhaled sharply and turned to Xin Yune. ”Are you gonna lead me to the Emperor or what?”

She opened her mouth to respond, but before she could say anything, I changed my mind.

”You know what?” I said. ”Let’s put off the meeting. Find an eatery first.”

She raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. ”Oh? The Defeater of Hell’s Gate needs a meal break?”

I ignored the jab. There was just too much to consider after the big reveal she had thrown at me.

Omniscient? The Emperor?

That had to be an exaggeration.

…Right?

”I know a place,” Xin Yune said, suddenly tugging at my sleeve and pulling me forward.

Fifteen minutes later, I was staring at an incredible spread.

Lobster. Turkey. Roasted duck. Exotic fruits and vegetables. Plates upon plates of steaming, fragrant dishes. All arranged neatly in a private room with a large window overlooking the nightlife of the Empire.

The streets outside were alive, with glowing lanterns and bustling people making it feel like the city had never slept.

I sat down, still processing everything.

Xin Yune smirked. ”So. Eat first, existential crisis later?”

I picked up my chopsticks, tasted a bit of everything, and then slowly set them down.

I had no appetite.

Meanwhile, Xin Yune was eating without holding back, savoring every bite. She looked completely at ease, enjoying her time. Every bit of an eccentric, huh?

If we had met under different circumstances, I could imagine us becoming friends rather quickly.

I leaned back slightly, watching the city lights flicker outside the window. Hopefully, I wasn’t overthinking it, but something about what she had said earlier—

”Omniscient within the Empire.”

—made me uneasy.

She hadn’t said it as praise. She meant it literally.

And if that were true… then the Emperor probably had the answers to my predicament.

I might not be able to see the future, but I could deduce one thing. If he were so omniscient, then he’d be able to put me under his thumb one way or another. And if not outright control, then at least ensure he could manipulate me to some extent.

He’d already proven his competence by orchestrating my collision with Shenyuan.

It was highly likely that the Emperor had also given orders to his son, Ren Jin, to make sure that Ren Xun would accommodate my every whim, giving me the illusion of free choice while steering me exactly where he wanted me to be.

Simply put, the Emperor was the kind of person who always knew which buttons to push.

…But why?

Maybe I was exaggerating things at this point, but couldn’t he have just… befriended me?

Just asked me sincerely for help?

I couldn’t see myself refusing if he had simply appealed to my emotions and rewarded me fairly. That was what had been baffling me ever since I realized the Emperor’s scheme.

Across the table, Xin Yune paused mid-bite, watching me.

“What’s the problem?” she asked.

”Nothing,” I said.

Xin Yune didn’t look convinced.

”You’re ruining the mood,” she replied, pointing at me with her chopsticks.

I exhaled through my nose, leaning back slightly.

”And,” she added, tilting her head, ”you’re cracking your knuckles every breath you take.”

I blinked and looked down at my hands.

I cracked my thumb, then my index finger.

…Huh.

I hadn’t even noticed.

I glanced back at her, thinking the world was really ironic.

”What?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

I shook my head. ”Nothing.”

This must be karma.

For all the food trips I had gone on while someone else was stuck brooding.

For that one time, I shooed Gu Jie away when I was too busy playing with goldfish to listen to her. Well, I should have been more tactful at that time.

Ah… memories.

Xin Yune cracked the lobster shell with a casual flick of her fingers, using her cultivation as if it were second nature.

”There is no ‘nothing’ nothing,” she insisted, pointing the lobster claw at me. ”Talk.”

I ignored her and changed the topic instead.

”I thought cultivators in the higher realms despised eating mortal food,” I said, gesturing to the table.

A lot of the spread was just that, mortal. There was nothing special about it. No rare spirit ingredients. No divine beast meat.

Xin Yune took a bite of her lobster and shrugged.

”There’s only so much in life I can enjoy,” she said simply.

Then, after a brief pause, she added, ”And I’m homesick.”

”Me too,” I admitted.

Xin Yune glanced at me but didn’t say anything.

I sighed, resting my elbows on the table. If you had thousands of years’ worth of memories crammed in your head, you’d feel homesick too.

It was strange—how I still identified more with the old me from Earth rather than the me from LLO, despite the latter having lived through multiple lifetimes of experience.

Made me think…

Was it the eldritch thing-y in my head messing with me?

Or was I just overthinking it?

Was it the Emperor’s fault that my friends were dead?

Or was it all on Shenyuan’s hands?

…Or maybe…

It was my fault all along.

I exhaled sharply.

Ah. I shouldn’t go there.

The blame game was an unwinnable game.

Across the table, Xin Yune studied me carefully.

”What is it, really?” she asked. ”What’s troubling your mind?”

I didn’t answer.

She set down her chopsticks. ”You were so eager to meet His Majesty just a moment ago. What made you change your mind?”

I met her gaze.

”You should know,” I said. ”For all I care, your presence here is just another scheme of the Emperor. Another script, tailored to appeal to me.”

Xin Yune’s eyes widened slightly, then she smirked.

”You’re being paranoid,” she teased. ”There’s no such thing.”

I leaned forward, fingers tapping against the table.

”How could I believe that?” I asked.

For the first time since I met her, Xin Yune’s expression faltered.

Then she smiled, but it was a painful smile.

”Then ask me,” she said softly.

She held my gaze, unwavering.

”You have a special power that lets you tell if it’s the truth or a lie,” she added. “Don’t you?”

I narrowed my eyes. ”How would I even know if you have an ability that lets you lie so cleverly that I wouldn’t notice?”

Xin Yune shrugged. ”Then ask me and determine it for yourself.”

She set her hands on the table, leaning forward slightly. ”What pains you greatly?”

I exhaled slowly, cracking my knuckles. This time, I was more conscious of it.

I guess this was the best I could get to therapy, huh?

Sarcasm aside… There was no real harm in telling her what I felt. In a way, she represented the Emperor, didn’t she?

”I’ve thought about it,” I admitted.

”If I stood face to face with the Emperor… would I be able to hold myself back? To not kill him, I mean? To not pop his head off?”

Xin Yune nodded. ”Go on.”

I scoffed inwardly.

If it were another person, they’d have lost their mind already, screaming about treason or conspiracy, as if I was even a citizen of this damn Empire.

I couldn’t even confide in Jiang Zhen about this. Not because he wasn’t trustworthy, but because he was simply weak. If the Emperor fancied it so much, he could crush Jiang Zhen instantly.

But me?

I’d be fine.

Confiding in what could pass as an uncertain ally, or even a probable enemy, was dangerous.

But at this point? I had nothing to lose. 

It wasn’t like I was scared of the Empire.

I survived a Hell’s Gate alone. Yeah, leaving Lu Gao hanging was terrible, but the gals should be able to take care of him. That was besides the point.

What could the Empire possibly throw at me that would be worse than a Hell’s Gate? Frankly speaking, they could probably do a lot worse, considering they have the power of an entire super civilization backing them and they were on home ground.

Still, I spoke.

I told Xin Yune about my experiences in the Hell’s Gate, about Shenyuan, about my time in the Black Forest.

I told her about the bonds I lost that day.

I told her that while I had vented a lot of my frustration on smashing demons, a lot of my bloodlust remained, hidden, suppressed.

Xin Yune tilted her head, her gaze unreadable. “Do you want vengeance?”

I scoffed. “Not so much vengeance.”

I leaned back, rubbing my temples. “I’m just… angry.”

And I knew why.

Killing the Emperor—no, even considering it—wasn’t just about me. It wouldn’t stop at me.

Even if I could handle the backlash, the common folk wouldn’t.

I could argue all day that I was raising a revolution, that I was freeing the world from a tyrant.

But the Emperor wasn’t exactly a tyrant.

Oh, he was plenty tyrannical in how he handled cultivators, sure.

But what about the rest of the world?

My knowledge was limited. The things I knew could have been propaganda, either altered or twisted.

But still.

I had seen Yellow Dragon City, Ironmoor City, and the Imperial Capital.

The Imperial Capital, not so much, but enough.

Too few examples to truly judge him, but…

I had seen how Ren Jin, his son, worked.

And that…

That was complicated.

I rubbed my chin, finally realizing the truth.

I didn’t really want the Emperor dead.

But I was pissed at him. So much.

Xin Yune watched me, then smirked. “Then just hit him once.”

I stared at her. “What?”

She shrugged, taking a sip of her tea. “It should be fine. Maybe just a slap in the face to make it more humiliating?”

The quiet hum of the restaurant around us only amplified the absurdity of the conversation we were having. I narrowed my eyes, my voice low but firm.

”I have to ask, just to be sure… Was it the Emperor who put this in your head? Were you reading from a predetermined script? Is this all part of his manipulation?”

Xin Yune shrugged. ”I wouldn’t really know if His Majesty was manipulating me,” she admitted, ”but I stand by what I said. If you can’t kill him, then hitting him should be fine.”

I activated my Divine Sense, scanning for any trace of deception. Nothing. She was telling the truth. But still, I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

”You’re serious?” I asked, incredulous. ”Wouldn’t you be in trouble for suggesting something so… crass?”

She didn’t even look up. She simply picked up her chopsticks and continued eating, as if we were discussing the weather.

”If you kill His Majesty, the Empire would be in deep trouble,” she said casually. ”As the Empire’s benefactor, you shouldn’t do that.”

She had a point. A frustratingly valid point.

Xin Yune picked her chopsticks up and returned to eating. ”I can bring people back to life, sure. But I’m not so sure I could bring back an Empire. If the Emperor, who promised to live forever, were to die—even once—there would be chaos. Civil war would break out. And the Empire you saved from the imminent demon invasion via Hell’s Gate would be prey to other nations.”

Yeah. That had been one of my concerns too. The Seven Imperial Houses had a history drenched in blood. If the Emperor fell, they would definitely tear the Empire apart.

Xin Yune suddenly tilted her head, as if remembering something. ”Oh, if you’re thinking of hitting him, maybe do it in a private place.”

I let out a long, exhausted sigh. ”That’s not really the issue here.”

”I think if you ask him to let you hit him as compensation for all the trouble he caused you, he’d agree.”

I scoffed. ”I’m starting to think hitting him just once is too light.”

Xin Yune didn’t even flinch. ”Then do it twice.”

I gave her a look. ”What exactly is your job again?”

”A freelancer.”

”A freelancer physician,” I corrected.

She smiled. ”A freelancer Divine Physician, actually. So yeah, I think I could patch His Majesty up just fine, even if you beat him within an inch of his life.”

I stared at her, stunned into silence.

Xin Yune blinked, then quickly corrected herself. ”I didn’t tell you to beat him within an inch of his life.”

I shook my head. This woman was impossible.

“Hear me out, I didn’t mean to boast, but I could bring people back to life too,” I said, leaning back against the chair.

Xin Yune raised an eyebrow. “Or so I’ve heard,” she replied, setting down her chopsticks.

I gestured across my neck with a slicing motion. “Maybe I could just… you know… in closed doors.” I paused for effect. “And then revive him? Do you think he’d agree?”

This time, it was her turn to stare at me like I was the ridiculous one. Her lips pressed into a thin line, but instead of immediately shooting me down, she actually looked thoughtful. A rare sight.

Then she sighed, letting her shoulders slump as she finally put down her chopsticks for good. “I need a drink,” she muttered.

I nodded in agreement. “I think I’d want some too.”

Xin Yune raised a hand and waved over a waiter, her tone casual but firm. “Bring us your most expensive liquor.”

The waiter hesitated for only a moment before bowing deeply and hurrying off.

I watched him leave before glancing at Xin Yune. “Didn’t take you for a heavy drinker.”

“I’m not,” she admitted, resting her chin on one hand. “But you’re making me reconsider that stance.”

I smirked. “So you’re saying I drive people to drink?”

“Among other things.” She exhaled through her nose. “Honestly, do you really think that’s a good idea? Killing the Emperor just to revive him?”

I shrugged. “Depends. I mean, if he agreed, then technically it wouldn’t be murder.”

Xin Yune pinched the bridge of her nose. “That’s the worst justification I’ve ever heard.”

“Well, you were the one who told me to hit him. I’m just escalating.”

She gave me a deadpan look. “There’s a difference between slapping a man and outright executing him, Da Wei.”

I chuckled, but even as I did, I felt the weight of my own words settling in. The truth was, I didn’t really know what I wanted. Did I want revenge? Did I want closure? Did I just want to punch something—someone—until this gnawing frustration inside me went away?

The waiter returned with a beautifully crafted bottle, pouring two glasses of what smelled like potent alcohol.

Xin Yune picked up her glass and held it up. “To bad ideas.”

I grabbed mine and clinked it against hers. “To bad ideas.”

And then we drank.

Could we even get drunk? Maybe there was a trick to it? Nah... we’d find a way... Maybe...