Immortal Paladin

”Young Master,” Tao Long began, his voice carrying that overly formal weight that made my teeth itch.

I waved my hand lazily. ”No need to call me that when we’re alone.”

Liang Na shook her head immediately. Her expression was stern. ”It’s safer this way. Even in private. You never know who’s listening.”

Paranoia? Maybe. But given the world we lived in, I supposed it wasn’t entirely unreasonable. I sighed and motioned for Tao Long to continue.

He straightened his posture, the creases on his forehead deepening as he spoke. ”As you requested, I sought out the inn staff who was responsible for your meals. However, by the time I got there, they had all been moved elsewhere. The entire staff was replaced just recently, and it led to one thing and another.”

”Moved? Replaced?” I asked, my brow furrowing. ”Why?”

Tao Long’s mouth tightened. ”It was out of fear, Young Master. A very particular kind of fear. It seems a special breed of demonic beast was suspected of infiltrating the area.”

Liang Na picked up from there, folding her arms as she leaned against the windowsill. ”Shapeshifting demons. Capable of creating disguises so convincing that even some masters… ones with centuries of experience… could not detect the difference.”

”So, shapeshifters, huh?” I said aloud, mostly to myself. ”Was that the reason you wanted me to hole up in my room, Nongmin?” I’m fairly confident I would be able to pick them out from the crowd rather easily.

Across the room, Nongmin adjusted his newly strapped armor, the cape fluttering slightly as he moved. He met my gaze without hesitation.

”I would have preferred you never learned about it,” he said simply. ”But yes. I asked you to stay confined for everyone’s safety. We don’t know how many of them slipped through and how strong they are. Knowing you, I fear you might escalate.”

Ouch… you think too little of me, man…

”And now?” I prompted.

Nongmin exhaled through his nose, heavy and slow. ”Tonight, I’ll be leaving. A small force of Tenth Realm Masters will conduct a joint reconnaissance of the new realm. No one outside this room knows where we’re going, so keep it to yourselves.”

He glanced down at his hands, flexing them like a man trying to feel something slipping away.

”This realm that opened up,” he added grimly, ”feels wrong. It’s different from others we have explored before. If we don’t act quickly, it might not just be infiltration we face… it might be open war.”

It all sounded rather worrying. Shapeshifters sneaking around. A strange realm opening. Even Nongmin personally preparing to head out. All of it screamed trouble. But honestly? That wasn’t the part that gnawed at me most.

”I think I just had my fateful encounter you spoke of,” I said, breaking the tense air. ”So tell me, how exactly is that supposed to help me resurrect my disciples?”

Nongmin stopped fussing with his armor and looked at me squarely. His expression was... complicated. As if he were both proud and pitying me at the same time. ”I can no longer see clearly past the World Summit,” he said slowly, as if choosing each word carefully. ”But what I do know is this… you will succeed. You will resurrect them.”

”That’s a nice fortune cookie, Nongmin,” I said dryly. ”But a little more detail would be great.”

He gave a small, almost imperceptible smile. ”The moment will come. The fateful encounter is soon upon you and when you are face to face with it, you will know what to do...”

I stared at him, deadpan. ”What kind of darn prophecy is that?”

”Prophecy?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Hmmm…”

”Yeah, prophecy,” I said. ”Is that what this is?”

He nodded. ”Yes. I think it is indeed a prophecy.”

I leaned back against the wall, trying not to let the frustration show too much on my face. ”You know, a normal method would’ve been nice. A magic pill, a secret ritual, maybe a super alchemist who owed you a favor... why does it always have to involve cryptic shit when it comes to you?”

Nongmin chuckled under his breath, the kind of chuckle that said he understood but didn’t intend to change a thing.

Then, as if deciding the mood needed to shift, he added casually, ”By the way, that little girl you just met… Tian Mei… she has an interesting dormant bloodline ability.”

I blinked. ”Tian Mei?”

He nodded. ”If I had a grandson her age, I wouldn’t mind forming a marriage alliance between her and my grandson. After all, she’s the granddaughter of Xin Yune’s old master.”

I deflated immediately, the weight of the conversation crashing down into pure exasperation.

”Dude,” I said, dead serious, ”please don’t go in that direction. You do remember I’m not your grandson, right? I’m just pretending to be one.”

Nongmin gave an airy wave of his hand, as if to brush away the very idea. ”Don’t worry,” he said. ”I’m only making small talk. Besides, using my children for political gain isn’t something I practice. It runs counter to my ideals.”

He paused, his gaze sharpening slightly. ”I intend to be the Final Emperor. That means I won’t repeat the sins of past dynasties.”

”So,” I said slowly, crossing my arms as I leaned against the table, ”what do you want me to do, exactly? Awaken the girl’s bloodline ability?”

”There is no need,” he answered simply. “I just wanted you to know.”

I stared at him for a second longer. ”Alright... and what exactly is her bloodline ability?”

He gave a faint smile, almost like he’d been waiting for me to ask. ”The ability to see... souls.”

I blinked. ”Like ghosts? You mean ghosts, right?”

”That too,” he confirmed, unbothered.

I scratched my head. ”But wait. Don’t I already have Divine Sense? And aren’t cultivators able to detect spirits with their Qi Sense anyway?”

I wasn’t an expert, but even back on Earth, the concept of ’ghosts’ seemed simple enough… translucent figures floating around, maybe rattling chains if you were unlucky. I figured in a world of cultivation, sensing something half-dead or spiritual should’ve been even easier.

Nongmin shook his head slightly. ”You’re referring to apparitions and wraiths… lingering spiritual remnants bound by obsession or trauma. What Tian Mei can awaken... is the ability to see ’souls.’”

There was a finality in the way he said it. Not spirits. Not residual energy. Actual souls. I whistled low under my breath.

”Wow. Just... wow.”

Still, that didn’t explain anything about me not roaming around. I didn’t think shapeshifters were the problem, unless they were the problem and like half most of the time, I don’t see it. Maybe super powerful shapeshifters? No wonder he was being so careful if that was the case. No wonder he didn’t want me running around unsupervised. Another thought poked at me, though. A dangerous one.

”What would’ve happened,” I asked carefully, ”if I had figured this out on my own? If I tried to approach her outside the little script you had in mind?”

Nongmin tightened his gauntlet and gave me a sidelong glance. ”Tian En would have tried to kill you.”

 ”And who exactly,” I asked slowly, ”is Tian En?”

”By Tian En, I mean Tian Mei’s grandmother.”

I rubbed my face, feeling a headache start to form behind my eyes. ”You know, you didn’t lie to me... but you really like to leave out the important parts.”

He chuckled softly, not even bothering to deny it.

I dropped into a chair, letting my arms hang loose over the sides. ”Man... no wonder I felt like I was walking through a minefield.” I lifted my head, narrowing my eyes slightly. ”And speaking of missing people... where’s General Zhu Shin? Haven’t seen him for a while.”

Nongmin’s expression remained even. ”He’s integrating with the local soldiers. Teaching them, learning from them. Contributing where it matters.”

In other words, he was keeping his head down and building networks. Smart man.

Nongmin stretched his arms once, flexing the plated joints of his armor, and then added casually, ”I intend to bring Tao Long with me tonight.”

At the mention of his name, Tao Long, who had been trying to look invisible against the wall, frowned heavily.

I shrugged. ”I don’t mind.”

Tao Long gave me a long-suffering look, but he didn’t complain.

Nongmin nodded approvingly. ”We should be back before the summit formally starts. Stay here, keep to yourself, and be yourself… just as we agreed.”

The next two days passed in a slow, almost suffocating crawl.

For the most part, I stayed in my assigned quarters, just as Nongmin had asked. A few guards from the Marial Alliance rotated in and out beyond the door, and every once in a while, Liang Na dropped by to make sure I hadn’t spontaneously combusted from boredom. I didn’t mind. Peace and quiet were rare commodities these days.

Tian Mei and Shu Dai were the only two who seemed willing to keep me company. At first, the interactions were... tense, to say the least. Tian Mei had this restless energy about her, like a kitten trying very hard to seem like a proper tiger. Shu Dai, on the other hand, carried himself with the brooding air of someone permanently stuck between pride and resignation. 

Their dynamic was immediately obvious.

Tian Mei would toss some barbed remark, usually about Shu Dai’s ”inability to loosen up” or his ”tragic lack of imagination” …and Shu Dai would respond with a strained, dry comment that was technically polite but emotionally devoid. Neither of them seemed eager to escalate things into open hostility, but the resentment simmered just beneath the surface.

It didn’t take a genius to piece it together. Even a bystander would know they didn’t mix well, which explained why the servants were so cautious when around them

”So,” I said during one of our awkward tea sessions, ”how long have you two known each other?”

Tian Mei rolled her eyes dramatically. ”Too long.”

Shu Dai meekly placed his cup down, not rising to the bait. ”Since childhood.”

There was a heavy pause before Tian Mei huffed and looked away, tracing idle patterns along the table with one finger. I noticed she only ever acted this childish when Shu Dai was around. Alone, she carried herself with far more dignity, but she often failed rather than succeed when I pointed it out just everytime.

”Arranged marriage since childhood?” I guessed, keeping my voice light. “Man, that’s tough…”

Neither answered immediately.

Finally, Shu Dai inclined his head. ”Yes. Our families decided on it before we could even walk properly. I... I feel sorry about it... but there is nothing we can do.”

Tian Mei gave a sour little laugh. ”I don’t know about that.”

I sipped my tea and decided not to poke further. Their estrangement wasn’t the type that boiled over into hatred. No, it was sadder than that. Two people who should have been closer than blood, instead forced into formal civility by the weight of old promises they no longer believed in. However, it seemed there was more to that…

Despite the undercurrents, I managed to befriend both of them in my own way.

Tian Mei liked riddles, games, and small challenges. She had a mischievous streak a mile wide and delighted in anything that made her feel clever. It wasn’t hard to get her talking once I caught on… a few riddles exchanged, a few mock bets placed, and suddenly she was laughing and plotting the next ”grand scheme” to prank some poor guard or servant.

Shu Dai was trickier. He responded better to respect… quiet conversations about cultivation methods, classic literature, historical tactics, stargazing, and all sorts of academic subjects. I learned to speak to him like a fellow student rather than an adult humoring a younger one. He seemed to appreciate that.

In the end, both of them warmed up to me... a little.

It helped that I had no personal history with either of them. I wasn’t tied to their old grudges or buried disappointments. I was just... there. A neutral party. Someone who listened without judging, someone who didn’t carry the weight of their past expectations.

One afternoon, as we sat by the garden courtyard under a thick canopy of crimson-leaved trees, Tian Mei tried and failed to sneak a sugar bun out of Shu Dai’s lunch basket.

”Childish,” Shu Dai said flatly, pulling the basket out of her reach without even looking up from his scroll.

”Stingy,” Tian Mei snapped back, cheeks puffed. 

I chuckled under my breath, watching them from the side. It wasn’t hostile. Not really. It was the kind of bickering you only saw between people who, at some deep level, still cared… even if they didn’t know what to do with that care anymore.

”You two,” I said aloud, ”are like an old married couple. Without the marriage part.”

They both turned to glare at me at exactly the same time.

”Not funny,” Tian Mei muttered, though her lips twitched at the corners.

Shu Dai just shook his head, returning to his scroll like I wasn’t worth the effort.

I leaned back, hands folded behind my head, feeling strangely content despite the absurdity. After all the death, betrayal, and chaos of the past few months, it was almost surreal to just sit in a sun-dappled courtyard, trading harmless barbs with two squabbling teenagers.

Because of me, the two had gone from stiff strangers to something resembling young friends…  maybe even the beginnings of something more.

It was subtle, the way Tian Mei now leaned toward Shu Dai when she spoke, her voice no longer sharp and defensive but curious, even teasing. Shu Dai, who only days ago had seemed meek and crushed under the weight of every conversation, now sat with an understated confidence that had nothing to do with physical strength. His body was still thin, almost frail, but there was something steady in the way he met Tian Mei’s eyes… like a mountain that had decided it would not move for anyone, no matter how strong the winds blew.

Watching them, I couldn’t help but remember Tian Mei’s bold, almost ridiculous proposal to me not long ago… asking me to marry her as casually as someone might ask for an extra helping of rice. Now she was giggling under her breath as Shu Dai explained something about constellation patterns and spirit channeling, completely at ease.

A pair of practically kids. I had to smile. Maybe this world still had room for small, ordinary miracles.

Eventually, the door to my quarters knocked twice, soft but firm, and the guards arrived to collect them. Both Tian Mei and Shu Dai stood and turned toward me, bowing respectfully.

”Thank you, Young Master Wei,” Shu Dai said, voice clear despite the lingering hesitations that clung to him like shadows.

Tian Mei followed up, a little more casual but no less sincere. ”We are thankful for the Young Lord for accommodating us,” she said, flashing a grin. “Until then.”

I waved them off with a lazy smile. ”Just don’t cause too much trouble.”

They laughed and left, the guards ushering them down the hallway.

As the door swung closed, I found myself leaning back into my chair, exhaling deeply. Tomorrow would be the start of the World Summit… the first real, wide-scale move in whatever this world’s fate was going to be. I should have been entirely focused on that. And yet...

I tilted my head, eyes narrowing.

The presence still hadn’t left.

It pressed against the edges of my Divine Sense like a stubborn stain, faint but undeniable. No normal spy would have lasted this long without slipping up… yet here he was, still hidden from every other sense but Divine.

I had tolerated it for days. I had even covertly asked Zhu Shin and Liang Na if they noticed anything strange during their last visit. They had both shaken their heads, seemingly oblivious.

Normally, I would have let it slide. Peeping Toms were an inevitable part of court life, except I wasn’t exactly Nongmin’s grandson or love child. Still, that didn’t mean I was free to act as I liked. It also didn’t mean I couldn’t confront this peeping tom. As long as I didn’t expose anything critical, it wasn’t worth the mess of confronting them.

But this one was different.

There was a taste of mana clinging to the intruder… not pure, not singular, but interwoven with every other energy like a spiderweb soaked in morning dew. It was familiar, in a way that set every instinct in me on edge. Only the Great Enemy… the so-called Outsiders… ever felt like that.

Detecting mana had been an incredibly difficult affair, considering its nature but repeated use of Mana Road Cultivation together with my Divine Sense helped me parse through the energy system vastly different to this land.

Anyway... I decided enough was enough.

”So are you just gonna watch,” I said aloud, voice low and dangerous, ”or are you going to reveal yourself?”

My power flared outward from me, thickening the air like syrup. I reached into my Item Box and drew out Silver Steel, feeling the familiar weight settle into my palm. It sang, soft and eager, hungry for battle.

For a long heartbeat, nothing happened. Then, with the slightest rustle of air, the presence stepped forward from nothingness.

An old man appeared… pristine white robes, long silver hair, and an aura so refined it seemed to hum against my bones. His face was carved with wrinkles, but his posture was ramrod straight, his eyes sharper than a swordsman’s blade.

Definitely not some random bystander.

I leveled Silver Steel toward him, not in an overt threat, but not exactly friendly either.

”So,” I said coolly, ”give me a reason why I shouldn’t throw hands with you. Make it count.”

The old man smiled thinly, as if he approved of my bluntness. He bowed slightly, not deeply, but enough to be polite without subservience.

”My name is Shouquan,” he said. ”Supreme leader of Ward, and the guardian of the Arch Gate.”

I blinked once. Twice.

”Okay,” I said slowly. ”And what does that mean exactly? ’Supreme leader of Ward’? ’Guardian of the Arch Gate’?”

I might as well have been told he was the Grand Keeper of the Left Sock Repository. It meant absolutely nothing to me. Shouquan, seemingly unbothered by my ignorance, pressed on. However, the truth was, I wasn’t that ignorant. Instead, I was merely acting like one. No way Nongmin wouldn’t have told me about them.

”I have a simple question,” Shouquan said. ”What are your intentions toward my daughter?”

I stared at him.

Daughter?

What daughter?

He lifted his chin slightly. ”Tian Mei.”

My brain flatlined for a moment.

Bruh.

I stared harder. Shouquan looked like he could have been a hundred or two hundred years old. At least, physically! Tian Mei was what, twelve? Thirteen at best?

’You mean to tell me this fossil was Tian Mei’s father?’

I almost said it aloud. Somehow, by sheer willpower and a shred of self-preservation, I managed to keep my mouth shut.

Instead, I settled for a heavy sigh, dragging my free hand across my face.

”Look,” I said, trying for diplomacy and probably failing, ”she’s a kid. I have no designs on her, period. She’s like... a little sister at best.”

Shouquan’s gaze didn’t waver, as if weighing my soul on invisible scales.

After a long, unbearable moment, he finally nodded. ”Good. It would have been... unfortunate otherwise.”

I grimaced. ”Yeah, no kidding.”

The old man folded his arms into his sleeves, finally easing his stance.