Immortal Paladin

After the final stroke of my brush, I let the tip linger, trembling ever so slightly as if the painting itself didn’t want to end.

Nongmin and Xin Yune stood together beneath the bodhi tree, still and eternal on the silk scroll I’d stretched across the wooden frame. The mother’s smile, the son’s weary eyes, the way her hand curled around his sleeve like she was holding him back from fading… I’d captured it all, or so I hoped. Art never got you the full truth, just the shadow of it. But maybe that shadow was enough.

I bowed my head to the painting. Then, without a word, I rolled it up, sealed it in a jade tube, and left it leaning against the tree where Xin Yune had vanished into lotus motes.

“That’s some magical pigments, Your Majesty… They dry rather well…”

My poor attempt at casual conversation was met with silence.

Nongmin didn’t look at me when I left. He stood motionless in the garden, wrapped in moonlight and silence, his back to the world. I could’ve said something. I don’t know, maybe a condolence, maybe a prayer. But in the end, I figured he needed the night more than my company. Even someone like him should have the right to mourn in peace.

So I walked.

The palace stretched vast and quiet under the stars. I let my feet carry me, eventually climbing onto the tiled roof of the eastern pavilion. No guards stopped me, though I sensed them. Divine Sense bloomed in my mind like ink in water: four presences nearby, light-footed but alert. Watching. Waiting. Professionals.

I sat down cross-legged and gave them a lazy wave.

“Don’t worry,” I said into the breeze. “I’m not here to defect or explode. Just looking.”

None of them answered. One of them shifted slightly on the western tower, but that was it. Good. I didn’t feel like explaining myself.

So I tilted my head back and looked up.

The stars here were different. I’d noticed before, in passing, but tonight it really hit me. I couldn’t find a single constellation I knew. No Orion, no Big Dipper, no Cassiopeia. Just endless scatterings of silver light, cold and sharp and unfamiliar. They were beautiful, sure, but they weren’t mine.

Back on Earth, I used to teach kids how to find the North Star. Simple stuff, really. Draw a line through the two outer stars of the Big Dipper’s bowl, go five lengths, boom, Polaris. Anchor point of the northern hemisphere. Some of the kids thought it was magic. Some of them couldn’t care less. I used to joke that it didn’t matter where you were; so long as you could find the stars, you could always find your way home.

Turns out that was a lie.

Because now? I was staring at an alien sky, under the eaves of an imperial palace in a world full of sword cultivators and spirit beasts and rulers who moved nations like pieces on a Go board. The stars above me were silent. Not one of them told me where I was or how far I’d fallen.

I let out a breath. Cold, clear air filled my lungs.

“So this is it, huh?” I murmured to the sky. “Whole new world. No constellations. No compass. Just me and the absurdity of surviving it all.”

It didn’t answer. Just shimmered.

A breeze rolled across the rooftop. I leaned back on my hands and let it wash over me. There was a strange sense of finality to it. Like something had ended, and not just Xin Yune’s life. Maybe it was the way she faded. Maybe it was the look on Nongmin’s chibi face. Or maybe it was just the quiet.

I wasn’t naive. I still had beef with the Emperor. Big ones. The kind that didn’t go away with a pretty sunset and a tearful goodbye. But even so, even in the middle of my grudge, I couldn’t bring myself to interrupt his grief. Not tonight.

A mother had died. That counted for something, even in a world like this.

I scratched my head and sighed. “I’m too sentimental for a cultivator. No wonder they find me weird.” Somewhere below, a bell chimed softly. Midnight.

Above, the stars refused to rearrange themselves into anything I recognized. And yet… I kept watching.

Because even if I couldn’t find home in the sky anymore, maybe I could find it somewhere else. Maybe, not tonight, not yet, but eventually.

For now, the rooftop was quiet. And the stars, though foreign, were still beautiful.

I leaned back, letting the cool night air settle into my skin as the stars above continued to mock me with their unfamiliarity. Then I closed my eyes.

Inhale.

Exhale.

I could feel the weight of my cultivation stirring beneath the surface of my skin, like a vast ocean waiting for a command. So I gave it one.

With a flex of Willpower, sharp and clean, I shut down the nervous hum of my nerves, the tension in my shoulders, the restless thrum of my spirit. I didn’t just sleep. I commanded my body to obey.

It was like guiding a river with my bare hands, but I had fine control now. Mind Enlightenment might not be flashy, but it gave me clarity where others had chaos. Add to that the sheer brute force of my stats and training, and sleep came not as a thief in the night, but as a soldier under orders. Moreover, I was way past Mind Enlightenment. I now sat at Will Reinforcement, and that had to count for something.

“Divine Word: Rest.” The skill triggered, echoing faintly in the hollows of my consciousness.

It was overkill. Absolutely. But I didn’t care.

The world blurred.

Then… nothing.

When I opened my eyes, it wasn’t with my real ones. The dreamscape unfurled like a canvas dipped in memory and warped by longing. Fog drifted across unseen paths. The colors were inconsistent, saturated in some places, bleached in others. It was imperfect.

I could tell. The Cloud Mist Dream-Walking Technique had its uses, sure, but my understanding of it was still shallow. I’d cobbled it together from a few notes and firsthand improvisation. It worked, but like a house of cards in the rain. Shoddy. 

If the Emperor ever gave me access to his library, his real library, not the polished garbage he let the Inner Court shuffle through… if Xin Yune’s witness accounts were to be believed, I was confident I could build a true dreamwalking method, something stable and refined. But that was a problem for another day.

Tonight, I was chasing something different.

I wasn’t here to be haunted. I’d had enough of those memories.

I was here for the good ones.

The fog thinned, and in the distance, I saw her. Gu Jie, blunt as a hammer, eyes like frost-covered steel. She stood with her arms crossed, just like when we first met.

“You’ve got a death wish,” she’d said at some point back then. “But at least you’ve got manners.”

She gave me a look even now, in memory, that said Don’t get soft on me.

“I can’t believe the dream version of her was more snappy than the real one though…”

The vision shifted, and suddenly I was in that wind-blown cliffside courtyard, standing across from Jiang Zhen. His sleeves fluttered in the breeze, hands folded behind his back, that signature smile on his face, half-amused, half-wary.

“I thought you were a beggar at first,” he’d said with a laugh. “Turns out, you’re worse.”

Another flicker, and then I was at a pond.

My fingers dipped into the water, and a tiny goldfish swam circles around my hand, glinting with rainbow hues. I remembered that moment too well. I’d wanted the fish because I felt like the world owed me one gentle thing.

Then Lu Gao’s tent reappeared, its old patched cloth flapping in the desert wind, that absurd self-styled stew bubbling over a fire. Why desert? Because my dream decided it to be one… He’d shared everything with me: stories, food, names of stars he couldn’t even pronounce properly.

“People think you gotta be strong to survive,” his dream-version said. “I say you just need someone to eat with.”

Ren Xun’s voice cut through next. Not harsh, just clear.

“Don’t let them twist you, Boss. You’re not like them.”

His hand was on my shoulder. His conviction flowed through me. The first person who looked at me and didn’t just see a fool or an opportunity. Ren Xun was strangely perceptive like that.

And then… Joan. Alice. My girls.

I hadn’t seen them in years. Back on Earth, Joan used to be my online girlfriend, and Alice was an NPC crush of sorts. It was… complicated… I kind of wish to see my fellow gamers in this dreamscape, though. For some reason, it was Alice and Joan who appeared. They had become quite a duo, huh?

Joan was chewing on something. “Weird monsters again? Ten bucks says they explode.”

Why was she talking like that? Of course, she was talking like that because that was how I remembered her.

Alice adjusted her gloves. “You still owe me from last time.”

It was absurd, seeing them here. But comforting.

The dream pulsed and shifted again. The air got heavier.

Now I stood in front of Hell’s Gate.

Darkness. Pressure. Screams muffled behind stone. The remnants of the Shadow Clan stood at my back, blades trembling in their hands. We were too few. Too tired. Too broken. But I remembered gripping my sword and fighting to my last breath.

I let the dream ripple, soaking in those fragments. It wasn’t all of it. Not even close. But it was enough.

A lot had happened.

Escalation after escalation. No real breaks. Just reaction after reaction, until I barely recognized the face in the mirror. I was stronger now, sure. Wiser, maybe. But also heavier. Like every victory came with a toll.

Still… those memories reminded me why I kept going.

It wasn’t for glory. Not revenge. Not even survival.

It was for them. The ones who stood beside me. The ones who smiled, who joked, who shared their fire or a bowl of soup when nothing made sense. The ones who looked at me and didn’t ask for anything but honesty.

My dream-self sat in the middle of all those moments like a traveler resting beneath the stars.

I didn’t know how long I’d stayed like that.

Maybe it was only a minute.

Maybe a lifetime.

But for once, I didn’t want to wake up.

And then there was her.

Xin Yune.

Even in this makeshift dreamscape, the memory of her wasn’t foggy. It was clear. Painfully clear. Like she’d just left the room, and the air was still warm with her presence.

I didn’t conjure her into this dream. I didn’t have to. Her memory walked its own path, just out of sight, just beyond reach.

She sure was… an experience.

Challenging, sharp-tongued, and unexpectedly kind. The kind of woman who could stitch your soul and gut you with the same hand, depending on her mood. I remembered the way she laughed when I told her I summoned her son by threatening to make her pole-dance. I should’ve known she’d take that in stride.

Sigh.

So why was I here, really?

Yes, alright, part of it was to relieve myself. Dreams were useful for that: clearing the gunk and softening the emotional static. But there was something deeper I was digging for, even if I couldn’t put it into words just yet.

The dream fog thickened, and as I stepped through it, I found myself standing before a mirror.

Except it wasn’t me.

It was him.

Dave.

Full plate armor. Silver gleaming with divine inscriptions, etched into the Wandering Adjudicator’s design like war poetry. The cross insignia pulsed faintly on his chest. He stood atop a mound of corpses: warriors, monsters, devils, and even a few familiar silhouettes of fallen enemies.

“Dave,” I said, folding my arms. “What the hell are you doing?”

He didn’t answer. Not verbally.

He raised Silver Steel, that bastard of a sword, and in a flash of motion, used Flash Step, as he appeared right in front of me. The air cracked like lightning, and he brought the blade down.

Instinct kicked in. I met the strike with a bare fist.

CLANG.

The flat of the blade met my knuckles. I channeled raw intent as a Critical Hit triggered, and the sword shattered like glass dipped in sunlight. Fragments disintegrated mid-air.

It wasn’t the real Silver Steel, thus its fragility.

“Really?” I stared at him. “That’s how it’s gonna be?”

Dave’s face was expressionless beneath the helmet. Just glowing eyes and radiant intensity. He didn’t talk. He never did. But I’d known him long enough to understand his silence.

Then he lifted a hand and cast:

Compel Duel.

“Of course you did,” I muttered. ”But do you really think that would work on me?”

Then:

Designate Holy Enemy.

Me.

Great.

A second sword formed in his grip, pure light this time, crackling with holy energy. He came at me again, this time channeling Divine Smite.

The air howled.

I sidestepped, invoked Flash Parry, and caught his blade with two fingers. The sword trembled with cracks spreading… and then, boom. It shattered again under the force of critical hits compounded by Hollow Point.

Dave stepped back, recalculating.

“…Alright,” I muttered, rolling my neck. “I think I get what’s happening.”

He was lashing out.

I should’ve seen it sooner. He’d been quiet for weeks. Too quiet. Dave, my trusty holy spirit, was unraveling. Not out of betrayal. Not out of hatred. But from a kind of… internal collapse.

“You’re deviating,” I said softly, watching him pace around the dream battlefield. “Qi Deviation.”

He paused.

”You idiot,” I pointed at him. “You’re a Paladin. A Paladin, Dave. How the hell do you end up going demon? Or going psycho? Do you know how counterproductive that is?”

His shoulders rose, tense and confused. Like he didn’t even understand it.

Of course. It made sense now.

I’d made him study qi. Used Divine Possession on a piece of Puppet Armor to give him a vessel, something he could move independently in the real world while I was occupied. And it worked. Kinda.

But qi wasn’t his language. Dave was forged in the logic of faith and divine judgment, not internal energy cycling and meridian theory. The moment I shoved a new system into him, I was asking for a malfunction. He was a holy program forced to run a demonic operating system.

Okay, calling qi ‘demonic’ might be too much, but that was the point… It didn’t help that Dave just got stomped by Shenyuan.

“This is my fault,” I admitted. “I thought you could handle it. But I didn’t consider the risks.”

Dave didn’t answer. But his light dimmed slightly. He dropped the hilt of his conjured weapon, letting it vanish.

Then, slowly, he knelt on one knee. A silent plea.

Not for forgiveness.

For help.

“Alright,” I sighed. “I’ll fix you. But you better not swing that holy stick at me again unless it’s to save my life.”

He looked up, and even without a face, I could tell he was relieved.

“…Also,” I added, “you owe me for that cracked knuckle.”

The battlefield shimmered and began to dissolve. The corpses faded. The stars returned, distant and foreign.

And me?

I stood there, watching my spirit, my partner, kneeling in the void, a flickering spark of a Paladin who’d lost his way.

We’d get him back.

I’d make sure of it.

”I failed my Lord… my friends… my family...”

The words came as a whisper, soft as breath but heavy as stone.

Dave’s helm shimmered out of existence, vanishing like mist beneath sunlight. What lay beneath wasn’t a stranger, wasn’t some ghostly apparition of a long-dead knight.

It was me.

My face.

Staring back at me with bloodshot eyes, cheeks streaked with soot, and that same damn crease between the brows that I never liked in the mirror.

“Great,” I muttered. “One problem after another.”

Seriously. They just kept coming. Like the universe was running a buy-one-get-one-free trauma sale, and someone had accidentally clicked auto-renew on my subscription. I took a breath. Deep. Controlled. Focused. This wasn’t new. I’d seen worse.

Hell, this reminded me of that time I had to exorcise the Heavenly Demon’s fragment out of Gu Jie. Now that was a mess. We barely got out with our souls intact, and Gu Jie nearly bit the bullet from the backlash. Calling it ‘barely’ might be overselling it, but the worse could have happened if I failed at that time.

I sighed, stepped forward, and pressed two fingers to the mirrored me, Dave’s forehead.

“Hang in there,” I whispered.

And then, with a flick of intent, I cast Divine Possession.

The shift was immediate.

One moment, I was in the dreamscape void, the next I was blinking into a new world: a harsh, wet wind slapping my face as I stepped into chaos. The sky was blood-red for some reason. The air, thick with fog and the sharp sting of metal and qi. Screams echoed from all directions, some human, some very much not.

This wasn’t how I remembered our fight with Shenyuan..

I was standing on the fractured cliffs of an island. One I recognized.

Shadow Clan territory.

A battlefield stretched before me, undead clashing against Shadow Clan cultivators, both sides bleeding darkness and fury. Yin qi curled in thick tendrils, clinging to the stone like oil slicks.

“Of course,” I muttered, narrowing my eyes. “We’re back here again.”

My gaze swept the battlefield. I didn’t care about the fighting. Not really. I was looking for him.

Shenyuan.

That pompous, scheming, walking can of ancient evil.

I cracked my knuckles, heart pulsing with anticipation. “Maybe I’ll wreck him a second time. Could be fun.”

Then I saw it.

Dangling in the air like a broken puppet.

Shenyuan.

Or… a fragment of him.

He wasn’t standing proud or cloaked in darkness this time. No smug smile. No elegant robes.

Just… horror.

His foot was hoisted into the air, held fast by a slick, roiling tentacle made of pure shadow. His lips were stitched shut with black thread that pulsed like veins. His eyes?

Gone.

Just empty, gouged sockets.

His hands flailed weakly, as if he were trying to claw at the nothingness, trying to scream.

Wrapped around him was her.

Hair like writhing tentacles. Eyes shimmering with eldritch hunger. A smile too wide, too still.

The damn thing in my head.

The eldritch entity I’d tried to forget. The one responsible for my transmigration. The one that whispered in the back of my skull when I meditated too deeply. The one I kept sealed behind reinforced layers of willpower and denial. 

And she was hugging him.

Like a lover.

Like a predator.

“…Fucking hell.”

She turned her head toward me then, ever so slowly, her gaze piercing through the dream, through the illusion, through me.

Her lips didn’t move. But her voice echoed in my mind like a hundred voices layered atop each other.

”Mine.”

I took a step back.

Not in fear.

In caution.

Because whatever that was, whatever that thing had become, it wasn’t bound by the same rules as the rest of us. Not anymore.

And if it could devour a fragment of Shenyuan like that…

Then I wasn’t the only one with skeletons trying to claw their way out.

“Dave,” I muttered under my breath, even though I knew he could hear me from inside this shared dream. “Next time you decide to go haywire, warn me if you’re dragging me into some godforsaken horror dimension.”

I clenched my fists and took another step forward, eyes locked on the eldritch woman as the battlefield howled behind me.

“Let’s see what you want, you nightmare bitch.”