Immortal Paladin

Outside, night had settled like a heavy blanket. The moon hung low and bloated, and the world felt too quiet for how many lives had just been upended. A bonfire crackled in the middle of the makeshift camp, its flames casting long shadows on the weary faces of the 112th Bronze Squadron. Some stared blankly into the fire, others whispered among themselves, their words like dead leaves scattered by the wind.

I sat at the edge of the circle, my legs crossed, arms folded, and spine aching from more than just physical exhaustion. My mind kept drifting toward home… Willow Village, Da Ji, Da Jin, and Lin Wei. Were they safe? Were they even alive?

Yuen Fu stood up, parchment in hand. All conversation quieted.

He cleared his throat and began to read, his voice clear despite the dryness that no doubt came from days of stress and little rest.

“To the remnants of the 112th Bronze Squadron,”

“If this message reaches you, then you are among the fortunate survivors. You must know that the Sun Empire is no more.”

“The capital has fallen to the jiangshi—undead fiends who possess martial prowess unlike anything recorded in our annals. They are not mindless husks, but cold, strategic, and terrifyingly fast monsters capable of rending armies. The royal family has perished. The Imperial Seal has been lost. The central command has ceased.”

“As Supreme Commander of the Northern Garrison, I have only one final order: disband. Protect your homes. Guard your families. Seek shelter under whatever banner still bears honor. Whether a noble lord, a village council, or a warband with principles—find them, and live.”

“We did what we could. But Heaven no longer favors the Empire. We must favor each other now.”

“By my name, Jin Chenglei.”

When Yuen Fu lowered the letter, the silence that followed wasn’t empty… it was full. Heavy with fear, doubt, and anger.

“…So that’s it?” someone muttered. “It’s over?”

“The Empire’s dead, and we’re stateless now.”

“We have nothing to return to.”

“The jiangshi are out there, and Commander wants us to just… scatter?”

A chorus of murmured despair spread around the fire. For all their rough edges, conscripts like them feared uncertainty more than battle. But then came the turn. It was subtle at first… glances cast my way. I could feel it. Their eyes were on me like I was some talisman against misfortune.

Because they’d seen it. My power. What could I do? What I became.

Yuen Fu spoke first.

“We shouldn’t dissolve. We should gather what remains… villages, families, all of them. Use Da Wei as the pillar and build a nation. A true one. Built not on old names but a new purpose.” His voice was bright, hopeful, almost foolishly poetic. “We can centralize, organize. It starts small, then grows. Every dynasty begins from fire and ruin.”

Some murmured in awe. Nods followed. I watched their faces, desperate men hungry for hope.

Then Ding Shan stood, arms crossed, eyes narrow.

“A nation? With what gold? What walls? What granary? You want to draft farmers with spears and call it a country? Just like what the Empire did to us?” he scoffed. “Let’s be practical. We don’t even have the coin to bring food to our families. We need to survive, not dream. Form a mercenary band. With Da Wei’s strength, we’d be a force that no lord could ignore. We fight for coin, we protect our own, and we stay mobile. That’s how we endure.”

That drew its own supporters. The practical ones. The realists.

The 112th was originally a band of misfits, composed of questionable members from kids like me, a number of women, disgraced nobles, demoted captains, a bunch of unlikely farmers, etc. We weren’t really anything compared to the great army of the Empire. However, life as strange as they were would do just as strange things... This unit was on the cusp of something, but I didn’t know if I wanted a part of it.

Tensions rose. Voices clashed. Words turned to shouts.

They were about to throw fists when I finally stood and raised my voice.

“Enough!”

Silence struck harder than any blade.

I sighed.

“You’re both right,” I said. “But you’re also both talking too damn big.”

They stared at me. Not with anger. With expectation.

“I never asked to lead anyone. But now I’ve got half of you looking at me like I’m the new Son of Heaven and the other half ready to wage wars in my name for money.” I looked around. “The two of you, Yuen Fu and Ding Shan, know this already. I hate death. I hate pain. And even with the power I have, I’m sick of causing both. You want to know what I think?”

They waited.

“We disband.”

A few gasps. One or two curses. Most were just stunned.

“You have families. Just like me. We’re not some chosen band of destiny… we’re just soldiers who didn’t die when the demon came. No, we are not even soldiers! We are conscripts, some of you farmers, the other hunters! A few women mixed in, with no choice but to pretend like men. Some of you are still kids, yet act around like an adult because someone younger than me is here... Many of us are here because we didn’t want to be here... That’s what the 112th really is... So don’t pretend you are here because you want to, because it seems there is a greater plan for you. No. That was all a coincidence. That’s what I think.”

I gave them a moment to let it sink in.

“But,” I added, “if after confirming your family’s safety… If you still want to follow me, then come to Willow Village. That’s where my family lives. I’ll be there. In these turbulent times, I firmly believe that we should take care of ourselves and go on our separate ways... If fate wills it, we will meet again.”

There were no cheers. No applause. Just the fire crackling and a hundred thoughts left unspoken.

But I saw it in their eyes. A few looked relieved. A few looked heartbroken. A few… looked more devoted than ever, which honestly scared the hell out of me.

I had no idea if this was the right call.

...

..

.

Morning came.

The sky was just beginning to blush with the pale hues of dawn, a shy light filtering through the canopy of trees surrounding the encampment. The scent of dying embers and damp earth clung to the air. I moved quietly, not out of shame but necessity. There was no need for goodbyes, and no room for theatrics. I had made my decision the night before… this path I walked couldn’t bear the weight of many footsteps.

The camp was still. The men lay scattered around the fire like the remnants of a fallen order. I slipped past them, careful not to make a sound.

But of course… There was one person I couldn’t sneak past.

“Going somewhere, Lord Wei?” Yuen Fu’s voice came like the snap of a twig behind me. ”I am hurt you didn’t even bother to say goodbye.”

”Lord Wei?”

I stopped. He stood just a few paces behind, arms folded, and looking as serious as the last time I saw him. He must have taken first watch… or perhaps he’d never even gone to sleep.

“You’re persistent,” I said, turning slightly.

He smiled tiredly. “And you’re terrible at sneaking.”

“I have to go,” I told him, keeping my voice low. “You should, too. There are people waiting for you. You’ve got a family, right?”

“I know,” he said, a pained look shadowing his face. “But still…”

“So you’re not going to stop me?”

“No,” he replied, firmly. “But I want to give you something. To… enrich your horizon.”

He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a small, worn book, barely the size of a palm. The edges were frayed, the corners soft from use. He held it out to me.

I took it and read the title aloud, brows arched: “The Mighty Fist of Goryeo?” I blinked. “What is this? Some kind of formidable martial art?”

Yuen Fu chuckled. “It’s a novel. About a martial artist who raised a nation with nothing but his fists. It’s a bit flowery, sure. But… it helped me believe that some impossible things could be done. If not by brute force, then by spirit.”

I stared at the book, then tucked it inside the robe I wore… spare clothing taken from another soldier, as my old robes had been torn to rags.

“I’m honestly surprised, Yuen,” I said with a dry laugh. “You, of all people, suggesting the founding of a nation… I never pegged you for such a romanticist.”

He laughed too, then straightened. His gaze was steady now and serious.

“I’ve seen what you can do, Lord Wei. And I’ve decided I’m going to follow you.” He paused, then added with conviction, “There are bigger things in the world… strange, terrifying, and beautiful things. I want to see them. I want to stand where history is made, not just read about it years later in someone else’s voice. So I’ll follow you, not because I need to, but because I want to.”

I turned fully to face him, lips parting to respond, but no words came. I wasn’t sure what I felt… reluctance? Gratitude? Or maybe that familiar sense of inevitability, like a tide rolling in no matter how far I stepped back.

“…You’re insane,” I finally muttered.

“Possibly,” he grinned.

I sighed, shaking my head. “But you’re earnest.”

“So are you,” he replied. “And that’s why I’m not letting you walk this world alone.”

”Well, I should go now.”

”Until then, Lord Wei.”

I left Yuen Fu behind in a blur of movement, performing Flash Step through the forest canopy, my form blinking between branches like a phantom borne by the wind. I didn’t look back. Leaves snapped under my feet. Branches bowed to my presence and sprang back after I passed. There was a quiet stillness between each step that let my thoughts echo louder than the world around me.

Building a nation, huh?

That was what Nongmin did… for me. To protect me. He raised a whole damned country out of blood and fire because he thought I was worth it. Because he believed in something I didn’t even understand myself. And now here I was, considering doing the same… only backwards.

If I were to build a nation… why?

To protect my loved ones?

I already had the power for that… or at least, I used to. Even now, diminished as I was, I could feel it. The starry haze in my heart, the rhythm of energy in my veins… I wasn’t helpless. I had a fair chance, and I could protect my family alone if I had to. So why did the thought of a nation keep tugging at me?

Because this world was falling apart. Because the Hollowed World, the place I thought I could return to eventually, was growing more distant by the day. Less real. Less reachable. Why did shit have to hit the fan now of all times?

Jue Bu’s voice suddenly echoed in my ears like a whisper from deep within my bones.

”Building a nation doesn’t sound that bad.” His voice was annoyingly smug. ”You’ll gather resources more easily, consolidate manpower, and raise your cultivation faster. Better than playing hero by your lonesome.”

“I thought you’d say that,” I muttered, mid-leap. My robe fluttered around me, catching the breeze. “But it won’t be easy. I don’t have time for this.”

”How much time do you think you have, brat?”

That question made me freeze, just for a split second, long enough for a branch to slap me in the face as I passed.

I grumbled and dropped to a lower perch. “Fine, enlighten me then. How long do I have before I kick the bucket?”

Jue Bu’s answer was immediate, casual. ”Twenty-seven years old.”

I felt my heart thud in my chest. “What?”

”That’s the limit, give or take. Could be a little earlier. You abused your life force too much, and now your lifespan’s been shaved down. You should be grateful you didn’t drop dead from that Exalted Renewal nonsense.”

I was fifteen years old, right now.

So that meant I have twelve years left.

That’s all I had.

“I can recover my life force. I’ve done it before. I’ll do it again,” I said, almost defensively. ”I just need to recreate my healing spells if it comes to it. Since I am now at the Mind Enlightenment, I should be able to do it...”

”No, you won’t... Sure, life force can be replenished. But lifespan? Once that burns away, there’s no getting it back. If you want to survive, you have to raise your realm, but considering the state of the world, that would require a lot of dumb luck.”

”So helpful...”

I was reminded by Xin Yune again.

It was from her I first learned that life force and lifespan were different things entirely.

I went quiet for a moment. I stared into the golden spill of the sun bleeding through the trees, morning painting the world warm and soft. It didn’t feel real. Twelve years felt too short. Not enough time for anything, much less raising a nation, cultivating to the peak, and finding a way off this False Earth.

Unless I could rewrite fate.

I sighed, the breath leaving me like a dying fire.

The Heavenly Demon’s words came back to me… about the others. About people like us! That meant I wasn’t alone. That meant competition. People with special powers, probably like me. People who could bring ruin if I weren’t careful.

If it were about gathering resources, I could’ve just built a sect and cultivated in peace. Maybe raised a few disciples and stayed out of the mess. But a sect would draw attention. ‘Their’ attention. And with powers like the Heavenly Demon had, I doubted it’d end in a friendly visit with tea and philosophy.

So, no sect.

Maybe a nation really was better.

Still felt stupid, though.

I leapt forward again, faster this time, trying to outrun the spiral of thoughts choking my chest.

Jue Bu was quiet now. Maybe he knew what I was thinking. Maybe he didn’t care. Or maybe he was just waiting for me to break again before offering another cutting truth.

Twelve years. Not a lot. Not enough.

But maybe, if I moved fast enough, thought sharp enough, and never looked back…

…I could build something that lasted longer than my flimsy existence.