Immortal Paladin

“How is it?” Meng Po asked, watching me with those timeless, heavy-lidded eyes.

I winced. “It’s disgusting,” I replied honestly, swallowing the taste with difficulty. “But… I felt like I lost something really important.” I didn’t know what it was, only that the moment it slipped from me, something hollowed out inside my chest, like a tightness curled behind my ribs. When I touched my face, I found tears…

Hei Mao appeared beside me, concern painted across his ghostly features. “Master, are you… okay?”

I let out a laugh. “I am perfectly fine,” I said, though my voice wavered. I had to be. There was no room for sentiment if I truly wanted to protect what mattered. To secure the heart, I had to remove the weight that could shatter it. That’s why it had to be done. I had to forget [❏❏❏]… whatever it was. I couldn’t even hold the thought clearly anymore. Just a wisp of code, or name, or concept floating in the distance, stripped of substance. The tea worked.

Meng Po leaned on her ladle, looking more solemn than usual. “If you decide you want it back,” she said, “I can give it back to you.”

I blinked. Her offer landed heavier than I expected. There was kindness in it, rare and ancient. “That’s a promise, then,” I said, wiping my face and straightening my spine. The ideal ending I dreamed of was one where I stood victorious and everyone I cherished remained safe, and it would include that lost memory.

Even if I couldn’t recall it now, I still wanted to reclaim it when the time was right.

Turning to Hei Mao, I offered a genuine smile. “You’ve grown.”

And he had. His cultivation was dense, refined, a polished core that radiated control. Compared to the last time I saw him, it was like staring at a completely different being. In fact, he now exuded a presence stronger than mine. It was stronger, even, than that minor god who visited during our impromptu tea-tasting session.

Strangely, Meng Po and Ox-Head had given off nothing. No aura, no sense of pressure or depth. It was like trying to measure a bottomless pit with a string. It was a curious thing… I decided not to question it. Some mysteries in the universe were too wide to grasp in one sitting.

“Hei Mao,” I said, stepping closer, “this master of yours would love to lean on your strength now. I hope you don’t mind teaching me for a change.”

His eyes widened, and I could see a flicker of pride behind the stunned silence. I turned toward Meng Po one last time, offering her a deep bow.

“Thank you,” I said. “Really.”

“Once you reach the fringes of the Ascended Soul,” she replied without pause, “come back here. Then I’ll send you to the Hollowed World.”

I raised my head, surprised. That kind of offer… it wasn’t something she handed out lightly. Behind me, Hei Mao nearly tripped over himself.

“T-that’s just unfair,” he stammered. “And just like that, you decide to help?”

I grinned. “Looks like you still have more to learn, Hei Mao.”

Meng Po chuckled softly. “Yes, indeed… Da Wei sure has a pull on the ladies.”

I laughed, full-throated this time. “Hahahaha~!”

And just like that, we turned from the edge of that eternal bridge, walking together. As we stepped into the mist, I called back over my shoulder with a raised hand and a smile still on my lips.

“Until then, Meng Po!”

We walked in silence for a long while, Hei Mao and I, until the ground beneath our feet thinned into a translucent edge, as if the world itself had run out of breath. Beyond the edge lay the void. It was pure, endless, and star-splattered. A false night sky stretched over us, twinkling with lights that didn’t flicker the way stars should. They didn’t pulse or shimmer. They stared.

“This place… sucks,” I muttered.

Hei Mao tilted his head, clearly surprised. “I thought you’d find it beautiful.”

I gestured toward the sky with a twitch of my finger. “Those stars aren’t stars, Hei Mao. They’re alive. And more specifically… they’re eyes.”

“What!?” Hei Mao stiffened. “Why can’t I tell that?” He looked again, blinking hard, as if the stars would reveal their true nature under scrutiny.

My Divine Sense had picked up on it the moment we arrived. A heavy pressure, subtle but unmistakable, radiated from above. They weren’t hostile, but they weren’t indifferent either. It wasn’t us they were watching, not directly. It was this place. This strange little world on the edge of memory and time.

“I’ve always trained and cultivated here…” Hei Mao said, voice growing quiet. “I thought they were beautiful. So… those eyes… were they watching me?”

A familiar voice interrupted from behind us. “No.”

I turned to see Ox-Head lumbering toward us, his massive form somehow managing a graceful gait despite his huge bulk.

Hei Mao blinked. “Huh? What are you doing here? Don’t tell me… is Horse-Face here too?”

“Goddess Meng Po’s orders,” came the grumbling voice, followed by the clop of hooves and the stomp of feet. Horse-Face emerged from the mist, looking more annoyed than usual. “Tsk. I don’t even want to be here.”

He marched straight up to me, his hairy, beastly chest puffed like a rooster’s, as though he were trying to look twice as tall as he already was. Without warning, he grabbed the back of my robes and hoisted me off the ground like a sack of rice.

“What does the goddess see in this ant to accommodate him so much, huh?” he snarled, glaring at me with those molten bronze eyes. “So what’s so special about you, ant?”

The pressure radiating from him was suffocating. My skin prickled, and my gut twisted. I bit my tongue to keep from puking right in his face. My body trembled under the weight of his spiritual pressure, but I didn’t say a word.

“Cut it out, Horse-Face,” Ox-Head snapped, stepping forward. “He’s a guest here. Or do you want me to report you?”

Horse-Face scoffed and slowly lowered me to the ground, muttering something about snitches.

Ox-Head turned back to Hei Mao, his voice calm and deliberate. “Don’t worry about the eyes. They’re not watching you. They’re watching the goddess.”

Horse-Face grunted. “That’s right. You think you’re important enough to be noticed?” He stepped away, folding his arms with an annoyed huff. “There’s a veil of darkness surrounding this realm. Not even Supreme Beings can peer through it easily.”

I coughed and straightened my back. My knees were still weak, but I held myself upright, brushing the dust from my sleeves with what little dignity I had left. So that was it… Those eyes in the void weren’t peering into this place because of me or Hei Mao. They were watching Meng Po.

“That’s good to know…”

Horse-Face grunted and kicked a pebble off the edge of the world. It tumbled into the void without a sound, swallowed by the unseen. “So why are we here again?”

Ox-Head answered with a grunt of his own. “Offer advice when they need it.”

“Riiiight…” Horse-Face muttered, clearly unconvinced, his tone dripping with the sort of sarcasm only a bureaucrat of the afterlife could wield.

These two. Ox-Head and Horse-Face. Legends in the Underworld, both respected and ridiculed in equal measure. I’d glimpsed them before in flickers of vision through the Destiny Seeking Eyes, just long enough to catch Meng Po’s name on their lips. I never expected to meet them in person, much less share the same edge of the world with them.

I turned to Hei Mao and grinned. “So what’s it gonna be, Master Mao? Teach me your ways…”

Hei Mao’s ears twitched, and he groaned as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Stop it, master… It’s embarrassing… Please, just call me by my name…”

“Gotcha, Hei Mao.” I gave him a playful thumbs-up.

He composed himself and adjusted his robes. “So what is it you want to learn first? This world’s time is frozen, so you can cultivate here as long as you want.”

“The Six Paths,” I said without hesitation. “I want to understand them.”

Hei Mao cleared his throat, slipping into a tone that sounded halfway between a scholar and a ghost tour guide. “The Six Paths refer to the six modes of existence in the Wheel of Reincarnation… Heaven, Human, Asura, Animal, Ghost, and Hell. Each Path represents not only a cycle of rebirth but also a foundation of orthodox cultivation. And with that foundation comes its own method.”

He paused to collect his thoughts before continuing. “Heaven Path cultivators rely on the attraction of fate, aligning themselves with celestial harmony and divine resonance. Human Path cultivators focus on karmic ties and moral conduct, building cultivation through the bonds they form and the virtues they practice. The Asura Path belongs to demi-gods and titans; they refine their innate strength, battle instincts, and understanding of conflict. Animal Path cultivators lean into instinct, primal intuition, and survival of the fittest. Ghost Path cultivators like myself refine desire, obsession, and ambition. And the Hell Path… well, demons cultivate by nurturing and then overcoming their own wickedness.”

I nodded, absorbing each word. It was elegant in its structure.

“Each path,” Hei Mao added, “intersects with the others. That’s why you’ll meet demonic beasts who act like sages, humans who fight like Asuras, or ghosts who dream like mortals. They’re interchangeable. But because of this overlap, all Six Paths share the same realm structure for cultivation.”

I leaned in slightly, thoughtful. “So where do the Longevity Path and the Transcendent Path fit into all of this?”

Hei Mao looked to Ox-Head for help. “That’s… not really something I studied deeply.”

Ox-Head stepped forward, his voice a calm rumble. “I’ll take it from here. Both the Transcendent Path and Longevity Path have another name. They were called the Old Paths.”

I raised a brow. “Why?”

Before Ox-Head could answer, Horse-Face cut in. “Because they are outdated.”

”Or at least, that’s what was taught in the Greater Universe,” added Ox-Head. ”The cultivation system used in the Greater Universe was vastly different from the Old Paths, but they share the same orthodox roots. Horse-Face, tell him more about the Old Paths.”

Horse-Face snorted, but nonetheless continued, ”Transcendence demands repeated labors. Simply put, feats beyond mortal reach. They don’t have a proper division of realms, and their levels of strength would wildly vary from one practitioner to another. As for the Longevity Path, it requires communion with the Universe through the process of living.”

I wasn’t going to waste the rare opportunity of standing before Horse-Face and Ox-Head, two ancient relics of the Underworld. Both of them carried more knowledge in their hooves and hairy knuckles than a sect’s worth of old sages. If they were willing to speak, even grudgingly, I had to squeeze every ounce of insight from them.

I crossed my arms and leaned casually, pretending like I wasn’t desperate to know more. “If there’s the Old Path? What’s the New Path? Is the Old Path inferior?” I asked, directing my gaze at Horse-Face.

The old beast snorted. “Hah~! As if I’ll talk… Go drink more tea, brat.”

Ox-Head, fortunately, was more charitable. “No, the Old Path isn’t inferior,” he said calmly. ”I don’t think you will understand.”

My brow raised. “Now that’s a sentence that begs follow-up.”

Ox-Head nodded. “No one actually knows. In the infinite history of the Supreme Beings’ rule, the Old Path had never existed as if it had been erased. However, the same wasn’t true for the Hollowed World, where the Longevity Path was prevalent. To the rest of the Greater Universe, they call the ’New Path’ the Immortal Path. These had been the prevailing cultivation system in the Greater Universe. Compared to the Old Path, there isn’t really any difference.”

That didn’t really answer my question.

“I don’t know the true origin of cultivation,” Ox-Head added. “But I can tell you this much: the Old Path had existed in the earliest epochs of our history. Whatever their source, it came before the formation of the Greater Universe’s first divine cycles. Did that make the Old Path inferior? I don’t think so.”

I wanted to dig deeper. Theories bubbled in my head, but I knew better than to chase every passing thought. I had more urgent priorities than cosmic archaeology. “Thanks,” I said sincerely. “But I’ll have to postpone the history lessons for now.”

I turned to Hei Mao, my voice more serious. “So what about me? Among the Six Paths, which one should I cultivate? And what are the realms I have to go through?”

Hei Mao didn’t hesitate. He’d clearly been waiting for this question. “All Six Paths share the same cultivation framework,” he began. “Their methods differ, their principles diverge, but the skeleton is the same. In smaller worlds and lesser universes, the names might change, and techniques might vary wildly, but in the Greater Universe, cultivation is formally divided into three overarching realms… Mortal, Celestial, and Immortal.”

He straightened his back like a formal instructor and counted the stages off with his fingers. “Under the Mortal Realm are: Body Tempering, Qi Condensation, Foundation Establishment, Core Formation, Nascent Soul, and Soul Formation. These stages align with the Longevity Path’s [Four Great Attributes]—Martial Tempering, Mind Enlightenment, Will Reinforcement, and Spirit Mystery.”

He paused for breath, then continued. “The Celestial Realm includes Void Refinement, Dao Seeking, and the Tribulation Realm. These align with the Longevity Path’s [Three Cosmic Elements]: Soul Recognition, Essence Gathering, and Bloodline Refinement.”

“Then comes the Immortal Realm, which contains Immortal Soul, Heavenly Immortal, and Transcending Immortal. These correspond to the Longevity Path’s [Trinity Celestial Paths]: Heart Path, World Path, and Endless Path.”

He looked me in the eye. “Finally, there is the Ascended Soul, also called the [Godly Vessel], equivalent to the Perfect Immortal in the Longevity Path. Beyond that is the realm of the Ruler of Laws and the Supreme Beings.

I absorbed the structure. It made sense. Neatly packaged. Of course, cultivation never actually unfolded in neat stages, but having a map was better than wandering blind.

I asked, “That’s a lot of steps… Do I have to start from Body Tempering if I want to follow the Six Paths properly?”

Hei Mao shook his head. “Not necessarily. Mortal, Celestial, and Immortal Realms are standard only because they provide a reliable progression. But we’re not limited to them. We’ll use them as reference points to structure your foundation and to make sure the Six Paths won’t break your cultivation down the line.”

That was reassuring. I had a messy spiritual framework thanks to Divine Possession, borrowed memories, and a thousand unconventional influences. It was good to know I didn’t have to rewind everything just to walk the same steps as everyone else.

“Alright then,” I said, taking a deep breath. “I am at Soul Recognition Realm now, the first of [Three Cosmic Elements]. Where do we start?”

Hei Mao smiled faintly, but there was something almost apologetic in his tone, like a chef about to serve you a meal that would definitely burn your tongue. “I am sorry, master… but we’ll start with beating the shit out of you.”

“…”

I blinked, wondering if I heard him right. “Come again?”

“I mean it,” he said, bowing respectfully, as if to add formality to the absurdity. “You’re in the Soul Recognition Realm. That means your soul has finally separated enough from your body and spirit to observe itself without being drowned in illusion. It also means you’re ready for the first real lesson of your life… learning just how weak you actually are.”

I held up a finger. “Wait, hold on. Why is the first lesson so violent? Couldn’t we maybe do some sitting meditation? Exchange some philosophical insights? And this doesn’t even make sense! I am a ghost now, remember?”

Ox-Head chuckled from the side, his massive arms folded across his barrel chest. “You asked to walk the Six Paths, didn’t you? The Ghost Path begins with pain. The Asura Path, too. And frankly, I’d be surprised if the Human Path didn’t include humiliation.”

Hei Mao stepped forward, his expression still composed. “This world is frozen in time. Your body will not suffer permanent damage here. The pain is real, but the risk is not. That’s why it’s perfect for cultivation. You can break apart without fear. And you need to. Because the version of you that walked into this world isn’t fit for the trials ahead.”

I sighed. “You’ve really been waiting to say that line, haven’t you?”

“I have,” he admitted, flexing his fingers. “It’s very cathartic.”

A breeze swept the still realm, and I could feel the stagnant qi swirl faintly with our rising tension. Somewhere behind me, Horse-Face was already laughing like a drunk spectator at a public duel. “About time someone beat this ant senseless. I might even take notes.”

I cracked my neck and got into a half-decent stance. “Alright then, Hei Mao. Enlighten your master. But remember this… You started it.”

Hei Mao bowed once more.

“I know,” he said. “And I plan to finish it too.”