Immortal Paladin

I woke up.

“That’s new,” I muttered. “To think I’ll be dreaming of home…”

The world around me felt strange. I blinked into the dimness of the tent, canvas rustling softly in the wind outside. My back ached. My legs throbbed. Every joint protested as if I had slept for a thousand years… or fought death and won.

In my sleep, I had dreamed of home. Not the battlefield. Not the blood. Not the Hollowed World I’ve become attached to. Instead, I dreamt of the quiet mornings in the village.

Da Ji had been teasing me again, calling me the lazy twin for oversleeping. Dad’s, Da Jin’s voice, firm and gruff, was giving me chores. And Lin Wei, my mother, was gently humming some folk tune she used to sing when one of us had a fever. It was warm. Real. I could almost feel her hand on my forehead, brushing my hair aside.

Then it was gone.

I sat up with a groan. The bones beneath my skin creaked like old floorboards. The cot I’d been placed on was rough, military-issue, with no comforts to soften the rigidity. My fingers curled into the blanket instinctively, grasping for some sense of grounding.

I heard footsteps outside. A silhouette appeared through the thin tent fabric. Then the flaps opened.

Yuen Fu stepped in, a mix of relief and exhaustion plastered across his face. His brows shot up the moment he saw me sitting upright.

“You’re awake!” he said, as if the very sight of me alive short-circuited his discipline. Before I could say anything, he spun around and bolted out, his voice rising in volume. “Da Wei is awake! He’s awake!”

“Ugh… What’s happening?” I murmured, running a hand over my face. My skin was cold, and I could still feel dried blood crusted along my jaw and temple. Someone had tried to wipe it clean, but it lingered in places like rust on steel.

My head felt too full and too empty at once. I remembered the fight. The Heavenly Demon. The screams! The scent of charred flesh and ruptured bodies. And then… death. I had died. No mistake about it. I remembered the darkness. The split.

“This isn’t funny…”

I looked down at my arm, from the blemishes of my skin to my muscles. There was no sign of the destruction I knew I had endured. The body had returned to its younger form, the one that belonged to this world. My body on the battlefield had been older and hardened. I’d shed that like old skin as quickly as I lost strength in my limbs.

“Of course, nothing about this is easy.”

I could hear the murmurs growing louder outside.

“He’s alive.”

“I knew it.”

“A God. He must be.”

I sighed and swung my legs over the cot, bare feet meeting the cold floor of the tent. My knees buckled slightly under my weight, but I steadied myself. I needed clothes. I needed air.

More importantly, I needed answers.

“How in the world did that Heavenly Demon guy get so strong when the qi in this world is so thin?” I muttered to myself, rubbing the crust from my eyes as the faint morning light bled in through the tent’s seams.

“Jue Bu,” I whispered mentally. “Are you there?”

His voice came instantly, smooth and sardonic like usual. “It probably had something to do with quintessence. That’s the only explanation I can think of as to how he became so strong even in such a qi-deprived world. Enough understanding and mastery of that power allows even the regressed old monsters to wield strength beyond their atrophied bodies.”

“But how?” I asked plainly. “I need to get stronger than Ru Qiu if I want to escape this world.”

“You are such an insufferable ignoramus,” Jue Bu snapped. “Fine… It’s souls. Or belief. Enough faith can generate quintessence. The purer the faith, the stronger the quintessence extracted from a soul. A single fanatic can empower a warlord beyond reason.”

A presence stirred just outside the tent.

“We’ll talk later,” I muttered to Jue Bu.

The flap of the tent opened, and in stepped Yuen Fu and Ding Shan. Their eyes were hollow with exhaustion, but their bodies had recovered. They dropped to one knee in unison, heads bowed low.

I rubbed my nose, half-embarrassed and half-amused. “What’s up with you two?”

They shared a quick glance. Yuen Fu spoke for both, his voice solemn. “Lord Immortal, we thank you for your grace. Through your might, you repelled the abominable demon that had slaughtered us and even worked to raise our fallen souls. We owe you our lives.”

I slapped my forehead. “Not this again…” I was reminded by a certain former bandit and a few people who addressed me as Lord Immortal.

It was the Hollowed World all over. People I’d known were treating me like some divine figure just because I did what was necessary. But I wasn’t anyone special. Just a piece in a much larger, crueler game. A powerful piece, sure… but still a piece.

“Who told you I was some ‘Lord Immortal’? I’m just your average kid.”

Ding Shan raised a brow. “Average kid, huh?”

I sighed. “Stand up. Both of you. Don’t kneel. No need for this... pageantry.”

They obeyed, albeit reluctantly. I could see they still weren’t convinced.

“I admit I have secrets… many I’m not ready to share. But I swear this to you: I harbor no ill will toward you or the 112th Bronze Squadron. If anything, I owe you for giving me a place to belong, even for a little while.”

As I stood fully upright, I examined the flow of energy within me. Oddly enough, my cultivation hadn’t dropped a single star. In fact, I’d advanced to Mind Enlightenment, First Star. That shouldn’t have been possible. Unless…

“Jue Bu took the hit,” I muttered aloud, piecing it together. He must’ve shouldered the cost of Exalted Renewal. Maybe out of fear. Maybe out of instinct. Either way, I was alive. Stronger, even.

“It’s time I leave,” I said, more to myself than them. “I won’t take much of your time. I will only need a headstart before someone starts hunting me down, maybe a few ration…”

Ding Shan looked up. “Where are you going?”

“To leave.”

The words felt cold, even in my own mouth. But they were true.

“You’ve seen the kind of power I wield. You saw what I fought. I’m not a ‘Lord Immortal,’ but I come from a world… no, from a level of existence you were never meant to witness. Staying here would only draw attention to you all. Dangerous attention. I’ll leave quietly. I’ll even change my name if I have to. But I’m asking, don’t mark me as a deserter. My family… my parents and sister… they’d be executed for it.”

I brushed past them and reached for the tent’s flap.

“Wait!” Yuen Fu’s voice rose behind me. “We wish to follow you!”

I turned, stunned. “What?”

His face bore no hesitation. “You may not be a god or an immortal, but you gave us something no god ever did… life. A second chance. I don’t care what your origin is. You’re someone worth following.”

Ding Shan stood silent, clearly torn. Then slowly, a solemn look crept into his expression. “We wish to follow you,” he echoed.

The tent was still for a heartbeat. My breath caught in my throat.

”Explain,” I demanded, standing just before the tent’s exit. My fingers gripped the flap, but my feet didn’t move. My voice was colder than I expected, but it had to be. ”This isn’t the first time someone asked to follow me. And every time, I allowed it. Not because I saw something special in them, not because I had some noble cause, but because I was a fool who didn’t want to be alone. Every time, I let them come along.”

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

“And every time, I watched them perish… crushed, mangled, torn apart by powers they never had a right to witness. Their blood on my hands, their screams echoing in my skull. I lost my head over it. Nearly lost myself.”

My voice trembled, not with fear, but with frustration, anger, and guilt.

“Even if I have the power to resurrect the dead… that power was never mine to begin with. It doesn’t belong to me. And it sure as hell doesn’t guarantee anything. It might work once. Maybe twice. But one day, it won’t. One day, you’ll all die, and I’ll have nothing left to give.”

I turned around slowly, locking eyes with them. “I hate death. I hate pain. I hate causing either of them. But no matter how much I say that, in the end, I still inflict them. It’s the only way to survive in this broken world. A world that gives you no choice.”

I stepped forward, my voice quieting, like a whisper meant to be heard clearly.

“So, this is what I’m going to do. I’ll give you one chance… seven words. Explain, in exactly seven words, why I should let you follow me.”

Ding Shan blinked. “Seven words? And here you say you are just an average kid?”

I deadpanned, “That’s twelve words.”

He stammered. “A-are you kidding? This isn’t even funny, no kid would talk like this… Why even seven?”

“Because seven is a lucky number,” I gave a small, crooked smile. “I’m whimsical and mischievous like that. Only proving the fact that following me would be as foolish as me accepting your requests.”

I turned again, this time determined to walk out. The first step forward felt like the final punctuation on the conversation.

Then Yuen Fu’s voice rang out behind me, sharp, trembling, but clear.

“The Empire has fallen, please save us.”

I froze.

What…? What!? What the fuck!?

I turned my head slightly, just enough to see him from the corner of my eye. Yuen Fu stood there, chin high, shoulders squared, conviction written all over his face.

I didn’t respond. Not right away.

“The Empire has fallen, please save us.”

Seven words. Simple. Devastating.

A million thoughts flooded my head, but one reigned supreme:

What the fuuuuuck…

A few seconds later, I found myself seated back on the cot.

My butt hit the bedding like the weight of the world had suddenly returned to my shoulders. I didn’t remember sitting. One moment, I was halfway through leaving; the next, the tent had swallowed me again. My hands rested on my knees. My spine slouched. My luck… was truly rotten.

Yuen Fu and Ding Shan stood before me, eyes somber, backs straight, as if the tent had become a royal court and I the monarch they never asked for. The whole thing felt absurd.

Was this the work of misfortune I inherited from Gu Jie? The chaos magnet? The curse in human form? I honestly had no idea. Maybe some remnants of that luck, or lack thereof, still clung to me like a stench I couldn’t wash away.

I ran a hand through my hair and asked, already fearing the answer, “How long was I out?”

Ding Shan answered grimly, “Nine days.”

My heart skipped. “Nine days?”

“We made a runner deliver a letter to Commander Jin Chenglei,” Ding Shan continued. “The messenger pigeons escaped during the confusion when the demon attacked, so we had to rely on a runner. Fully rested. Fast. He just returned this early dawn.”

Ding Shan reached into his coat and pulled out a worn, dust-smeared scroll. He didn’t hand it to me. He didn’t need to.

“The capital…” he said, “has fallen.”

I blinked. “What?”

“Overtaken by Jiangshi…”

Jiangshi? As in undead?

My stomach turned.

“Not just any undead,” he pressed on, voice now edged with disbelief and horror. “These ones possess incredible martial discipline. Someone is raising powerful warriors from the dead. Commander Jin said the royal family was slaughtered… every last one of them. The Empire no longer has an Emperor.”

I sat in stunned silence.

“It doesn’t help,” he added bitterly, “that the feudal states refused to cease their wars. Even now, they continue fighting. And now? Opportunists are surfacing everywhere. Bandits styling themselves as kings. Generals declaring independence. Foreign clans moving in like vultures to a fresh corpse.”

He looked at me then. “In the nine days you’ve slept, the world has gone mad.”

My mouth opened, but no words came out. What could I possibly say?

So that was the world I was ready to walk out into, thinking I was doing them a favor. All that crap about being a burden, about causing too much trouble, about leaving before anyone got hurt again… it just sounded like arrogant whining now. It was childish and petty.

I clenched my hands into fists and stared at the floor. My cheeks flushed hot with shame.

Ugh… Fuuuuck…

The timing couldn’t have been worse. No, I couldn’t have been worse. While I was brooding in my mind about responsibilities, about not wanting to be followed, the entire stage had already shifted. My ego thought I was protecting them. The world didn’t care. It moved ahead anyway. I exhaled slowly, willing myself to be calm. Being distracted now wouldn’t help anyone. There was no use in panicking. No use in wallowing.

“Uuuh… on second thoughts, can I go back to my coma?”