Immortal Paladin

Time had always been a precious resource, one I could never imagine having in abundance. I had completed the Four Great Attributes and mastered the Three Cosmic Elements. What remained were the Trinity Celestial Paths and, ultimately, the Godly Vessel.

With no distractions and no enemies to fight, I focused all my will toward advancement.

The Heart Path came first. The beginning of the Trinity. I spent tens of thousands of years inside my soul, tracing its boundaries and cracking open its mysteries. To find one’s ‘Heart’ wasn’t as simple as meditation or reflection. It required confrontation. I used Divine Possession on myself, exposing the ’Self’ to the ’Heart,’ peeling away every lie I had ever told myself. This exposure revealed the root of my being. It hurt. It healed. The realm took the shape of mazes, walls shaped like the circuits of memory, guilt, desire, and will. There were no subdivisions here and no minor realms or stages. It was one immense challenge: break the walls, build the world. When I finally did, I found something strange. Inside the pocket dimension of my heart, my items from Lost Legends Online had reappeared.

I couldn’t help but laugh.

“So the Item Box really is a pocket dimension after all.”

That bit of absurdity comforted me more than it should have.

Once my Heart had been stabilized, I advanced to the World Path Realm. Here, the task was to construct a complete world within me. The realm divided itself naturally into three phases: Earth, Moon, and Sun. For the Earth, I condensed everything I had attained in the Four Great Attributes and Three Cosmic Elements into the foundation of my inner world. This alone took tens of thousands of years. For the Moon, I sculpted a yin sphere, aligning it into orbit around my Dantian. That required another few thousand years. For the Sun, I drew upon my abundant reservoir of yang qi, shaping it into a blazing core. This took only a few hundred years thanks to my excess reserves.

At last, I stepped into the Endless Path Realm. The final phase of the Trinity Celestial Paths. Here, the concept of creating ’life’ wasn’t about populating my world with living beings. Rather, it demanded I infuse my Dao into the world: my existence, my essence, my beliefs, and all my memories. Everything that made me ”Da Wei” now pulsed within the world I had created.

When the realm stabilized, I gazed into myself and witnessed the completed Dao World. A sun and a moon revolved in elegant synchrony. The continents, six in total, formed an asterisk, a perfect harmony of shapes. Each continent reflected a different part of my soul, with unique laws and elemental attributes. And in the center of it all, impaled into the world’s very core, was a gigantic sword.

I stood above my inner world, hovering weightlessly in the void of my Dantian. Below me, six continents spun slowly, orbiting the asterisk of my soul like celestial gears in a divine machine. Each one was massive… so vast that even from this elevated vantage point, I could not see their borders.

The Heaven Path continent floated in the skies, unmoored by gravity. Its golden clouds shimmered with fate-threads, glistening in every direction like a spider’s web spun across a divine sunrise. Palaces of translucent crystal hovered in harmony, their walls inscribed with elegant runes. No mortals lived there… only destiny, purpose, and ambition too grand to be confined to the ground. It was a world built for gods, or at least, that was the idea.

Beneath it lay the Human Path continent, a vibrant land overflowing with life. Forests of ancient trees stretched to the sky, rivers cut deep into the earth like silver veins, and grasslands bloomed with the scent of stories untold. Cities had formed in my imagination, built not of stone but of ideals, memories, and karmic bonds. This land breathed with nostalgia and hope, a reflection of what I once believed humans could be.

To the west lay the Animal Path, a mountainous continent where no cities stood. Jagged peaks clawed toward the heavens, while valleys overflowed with beasts born from my instincts and fears. It was a land of survival, raw, primal, and unforgiving. The law of this land was not justice but power. Only the strong could breathe here. Only the cunning could live.

In contrast, the Asura Path continent was a battlefield turned graveyard. Its cracked plains were littered with bones, some human, some not so human. Colossal weapons jutted out of the earth like monuments to forgotten wars. The sky here was always red, always trembling, as if the very wind recalled the roars of wrath and ambition. This land screamed of vengeance.

To the south, the Ghost Path stretched in endless sheets of snow and silence. Not a soul stirred. The land was pale, almost transparent, as if it hovered between illusion and memory. Every flake of snow whispered regrets; every gust of wind carried longing. My attachments, my sorrows, the things I could never say… they had all taken root here.

Finally, the Hell Path boiled on the farthest edge. It was a hellscape of burning crimson rock encircled by a sea of liquid fire. Volcanoes burst ceaselessly, ash darkening the sky. The ground cracked and bled flame, as if the continent itself resented its own existence. It wasn’t evil. It was pure, relentless, and absolute pain manifest.

They were all mine.

I’d seen the insides of other cultivators once… Tenth Realm monsters, back when I still had no concept of what true cultivation meant. I’d snuck a peek through their Dantians, unable to see through the meanings of what I saw. Now I understood. They were gods in their own right. Men who could erase kingdoms. Women who could sink continents. And yet… I fought them. I won.

It was ignorance on my part not to understand there might. But it wasn’t really my fault they folded too easily, right? Either way, I felt a strange reverence now. Taking a deep breath, I turned inward again and focused on the final step: forging my Godly Vessel.

Unlike the other realms, this one had no grand ladder. There was no list of techniques, no methods to follow, and no benchmarks to measure. The Godly Vessel was not a stage. Instead, it was a state of being.

Hei Mao once explained it like this: “The body isn’t truly yours if you can leave it behind. The same goes for your spirit and mind. To be whole means that body, mind, and spirit must be united.” Ox-Head had said something similar and more bluntly: “You must unify.”

So that’s what I did.

Piece by piece, I began to forge unity. I drew in the Four Great Attributes: strength of body, clarity of mind, steadfastness of will, and depth of spirit. I balanced them atop the Three Cosmic Elements, each layer coalescing in the asterisk of my core. The Trinity Celestial Paths orbited within me, stabilizing my world. I fused my soul with the continents, and the continents with my blood. I merged the sword in the center with my Dao.

I didn’t know how long it took. Days? Decades? Centuries more? Time had no meaning in Meng Po’s realm.

But when I emerged…

I was whole.

And I had become… a Perfect Immortal.

”How is it, Master?” Hei Mao asked, his tone hesitant, yet undeniably proud. ”Is this wise, Master? Goddess Meng Po had advised stopping in the Tenth Realm.”

”I will be fine... We’ll be fine...”

I stood there, still feeling the aftershocks in my soul. The quiet hum of power beneath my skin, the storm of Qi dancing like lightning beneath a surface that refused to crack. I flexed my hand and watched as threads of my own essence shimmered in the air like strands of glass in a forge. “It’s strange…” I finally said. “I often think fate is strange… as it is cruel.”

That wasn’t just a poetic complaint. I meant it. With the completion of the Godly Vessel and the unity of my attributes, elements, and paths, something had changed fundamentally. Techniques that once took concentration and multiple steps now flowed like breath. My basic Qi Sense merged with Divine Sense, allowing me to feel life, emotion, and intent in a hundred-mile radius as easily as if I were rubbing my fingertips along silk.

There had been a lot of changes. Too many. Even for someone like me who loved riding the chaos of systems and contradictions, this was overwhelming. I muttered, “Hei Mao… there are ‘lives’ inside me… I’m freaking out…”

In my Dao World, I could see small people…

Hei Mao blinked and tilted his head. “Master? Uuuh… calm down... They’re not real. They don’t have souls.”

His words didn’t comfort me. If anything, it made me more anxious. I could feel them… farmers planting in the valleys of the Human Continent, beasts migrating through the Animal Path mountains, faint, ghost-like scholars writing scriptures in floating palaces of the Heaven Path. They weren’t fully aware, I knew that, but they moved like people. They reacted to Qi. They had form, shadow, and weight.

Hei Mao continued, “I have ghosts inside me, too. Most of them I’ve devoured or helped move on through the Wheel of Reincarnation using my cultivation. They don’t scream or cry… they exist as residue. Those ‘bonds’ become the foundation of my cultivation. Without the other, one cannot cultivate. The thing called ‘connection’ binds the fate of people. In a way, I also follow the Human Path, but you having six souls is still... strange. As for the people in the Dao World inside you, they were merely echoes of memories you had. This world we created from the Trinity Celestial Paths is just an imitation of the real deal and a representation of ourselves.”

From behind us, Horse-Face scoffed. “I don’t get it… Why freak out? It’s a normal thing to happen. In fact, Cultivators like you are lucky to build their Dao World this early. For most who begin in the Six Paths, they can only start forming their Dao World once they reach the Ruler of Laws realm.”

Normal? Normal?! Maybe for you crusty immortals, but I was still someone who used to freak out over getting a bad roll in a gacha game. Not that I could remember what a ’gacha game’ even meant anymore. Even with my ’former’ knowledge of xianxia and system mechanics, nothing quite prepares you for discovering an entire continent of silent people inside your soul!

Ox-Head chimed. “Don’t think too much about it. For humans, it’s like conceiving a baby. The spark has yet to awaken a soul… It’s a vessel without will. They’re no different from an inanimate object.”

I sighed and buried my face in my palm. His attempt to comfort me had somehow made it worse. “So… I’m pregnant with six continents?”

“You’re cultivating,” he corrected. “Uuuhmmm… Six babies or something like that…”

“Or something like that…”

“Something like that.”

I let out a long exhale and refocused. The power in me swirled like a storm, vast and steady. It felt endless. I could almost get drunk on it if I weren’t careful.

Horse-Face folded his arms and gave a smug shake of his head. “Don’t get too ahead of yourself. You’re still an ant at this stage.”

I flashed a grin. “A very big ant.”

Ox-Head stepped forward and tapped the space between his brows, a gesture so casual yet so full of implication that I straightened automatically. “From Ascended Soul onward, you must acquire layers of immortality. Most refer to them as levels. The more layers you stack, the deeper your immortal foundation becomes. The more you have, the more powerful you become.”

I asked the natural question. “And how do you gain levels?”

Hei Mao gave a modest smile. “I’m only currently at my [Level 2] Immortality.”

That answer threw me off. “Wait… Are we using game mechanics now?” While I no longer have memories of Earth, I still have my memories of LLO, thus explaining my reaction. I found myself remembering a certain old man, the Lost Supreme. There had to be a connection.

Horse-Face grinned at my confusion. “To raise your Immortality Level, you must perform feats that attract attention. Specifically, attention from the Great Subconscious. When you attract that attention, you begin to accumulate belief and raise your existence.”

”Belief?” My brow furrowed. “Isn’t that just faith?”

Ox-Head shook his head. “No. Faith is devotion. It’s a focused, personal offering of will. Belief, on the other hand, is perception. It’s the way the world sees you.”

I paused. That distinction hit hard. Faith came from worship. Belief came from recognition. The world didn’t need to revere you… It only needed to know you. That sounded disturbingly familiar. Then I remembered something. “Wait a second… Horse-Face, you mentioned the Great Subconscious. What is that exactly?”

Horse-Face gave a lopsided grin. “The Great Subconscious is another name for the Heavenly Dao. The mind behind reality. The dreamer of all dreams.”

I swallowed. So it was true. I heard him right the first time. The place where Mana came from and the source of dimensional energy in Lost Legends Online, the energy that shaped entire realities, altered physics, and governed fate… It was this. The Heavenly Dao. The Great Subconscious.

Horse-Face scoffed, arms crossed as he shifted his weight, his voice brimming with disdain. “Another method to raise your immortality is to kill another Ascended. Of course, you won’t be able to do anything about that at all, considering your situation.”

“I guess my time in this world is almost up,” I muttered, not in defeat but in reflection. “But before I go, I must first manifest an Immortal Art.”

The idea had been clawing at the edge of my mind for some time now. My instincts told me it was essential, a line I had to cross if I truly wanted to ascend further. From what I understood, Immortal Arts were not just techniques. They were revelations and expressions of one’s existence, honed to a terrifying edge. Compared to them, even my Ultimate Skills were mere tricks.

Ox-Head shook his head. “Unfortunately, we don’t have the time anymore.”

Horse-Face followed with a snort. “And just because you reached the Ascended Soul doesn’t mean you’ll find it any easier to manifest one. In fact, we’d be in more trouble than we’d ever want if you somehow pulled it off.”

Before I could reply, the world began to shake not with noise, but with stillness. The stars in the void beyond the realm glimmered, no longer distant specks of light, but luminous slits filled with malice. The pressure dropped on me like an invisible mountain, and I buckled to one knee.

Even though they weren’t directly looking at me, I could feel an intent that could shred a soul from across time and space. My voice cracked as I forced the words through clenched teeth, “What… what do those eyes want with me? Why does this pressure feel like it wants to peel me apart?”

Horse-Face, now less smug and more grim, remarked. “Every Ascended must be registered with the Celestial Circle. Those who aren’t are deemed rogue. And rogues don’t get to just exist for free. They either submit… or they burn.”

Ox-Head’s gaze flicked to the sky. “We’re out of time. You’ve grown strong, but not ready. Hei Mao, take him to the misty veil. Let him fight the new resident. He needs to prepare as much as possible for his trials ahead.”

Hei Mao gave a crisp nod, his calm expression taut with urgency. “Understood—”

And then, something changed. The air bent. The pressure around me intensified until it felt like I was drowning in gravity. From the edges of my vision, light spilled in.

The minor god had returned.

I recognized him immediately. It was the same being who had casually passed by during my conversation with Meng Po. His form was veiled in radiant gold, and his robes shimmered like dawn breaking over creation. He looked at me as if I were dirt beneath his feet.

“Unregistered Ascended,” he began, his voice a decree, “submit yourse—”

He didn’t finish.

The world didn’t give him the chance.

In that instant, the pressure vanished as swiftly as it came, and the air cleared like a storm held back by a divine hand. I blinked in disbelief as two towering shadows stepped forward, growing in size each second. Ox-Head and Horse-Face grew more and more, not metaphorically, but literally! Their forms expanded, twisting upward like mountains rising from the underworld. Each step they took cracked the earth beneath us and made the void above tremble.

The minor god halted mid-sentence, alarm flashing across his glowing eyes. “What’s the meaning of this?!”

Ox-Head, never one to play politics, grinned a wide and wolfish thing. “I always hated your smug mug.”

Hei Mao placed a firm hand on my shoulder. “We have to go.”

Before I could react or ask questions, the scenery blurred. My vision spiraled. Light bent and shadows twisted. And just like that, we vanished, fleeing into the mist, leaving behind two giants and a stunned god.

“What’s that about?” I asked, dusting off my sleeves as the void spun in slow retreat around us. Hei Mao didn’t answer immediately. He was watching the mist settle, as if half-expecting the mountain-sized silhouettes of Ox-Head and Horse-Face to come stomping after us.

“Trust me, Master…” he said at last. “We’d rather not be there.”

Fair. I wasn’t in the mood to be turned into an abstract painting by a disgruntled minor god. Still, I had to ask, “This might sound naive, but… couldn’t I just register with the Celestial Circle? Like… legally?”

Hei Mao gave me a look so flat it could’ve paved roads. “Nope. If the Celestial Circle gets hold of you, the Supreme Beings will know. And if that happens, they’ll take you away. Or at least, that’s how I understood it will... The Supreme Beings are too much for us...”

“Yeah…” I muttered, rubbing my temple. “They’re bad news.”

“Very,” he confirmed. “You’re better off pissing off a minor deity than drawing their attention.”

I exhaled. “So… what am I doing here again?”

He didn’t answer with words at first, just pointed ahead through the thinning mist. Slowly, a figure took form. It was skeletal and draped in regal remnants of tattered robes, with a crown that looked like it was forged from the spine of a dragon. Its empty sockets burned dimly, and when it turned, the voice was instant recognition.

“YOU~! I KNOW YOU~! YOU KILLED ME!”

“Oh,” I said flatly. “You’re that Yama King guy from the False Earth. I dig the new look, though. Very… necro-chic.”

The pressure hit like a landslide. My legs bent instinctively as if my body was trying to flee while pretending not to.

“He’s a [Level 1] Ascended,” Hei Mao said with forced optimism. “You’re technically at the same realm!”

“Technically,” I repeated, scowling. “His cultivation feels like it could fold me into a meat dumpling.”

Hei Mao squinted at the pressure. “Yeah… he’s maybe… twice or thrice stronger than you…”

“Well, duh!” I snapped. “He has an Immortal Art. Of course, he’s stronger!”

The Yama King’s figure swelled, fleshless but still somehow more massive. He grew to three meters tall, shadow spilling like ink from his frame as he pulled a massive bone scythe from his pocket dimension. The weight of it warped the air around him. I could hear my own bones rattling in response.

“Fighting!” Hei Mao cheered, already halfway backpedaling. “I’ll be cheering for you from… over there!”

Then he was gone, swallowed by mist.

“You can do this, Master,” shouted Hei Mao from the mist unhelpfully, “You have something like six souls!”

I muttered a string of curses so vile it would’ve offended a sailor. “You little shit…”

“I WILL HAVE MY REVENGE!” the Yama King bellowed, his voice echoing like a funeral bell. The scythe whistled through the air with one lazy twirl.

“How is that even possible? Isn’t the False Earth supposed to be a prison?” I asked, pointing an accusatory finger. “Is the cage so flimsy you can break out through… death?”

“YOU KILLED ME!” he repeated, as if shouting it would give him bonus points.

“You tried to kill me first!” I shouted back. ”And tried to turn the whole village into your undead army!

“If I hadn’t sacrificed half my soul at the last moment,” he hissed, “I would’ve perished entirely. But that choice let me escape. I lost power. Lost potential. But now that I’ve found you, I’ll make sure the price was worth it. DA WEI, I WILL MAKE SURE TO DEVOUR YOUR SOUL SO THOROUGHLY YOU’D WISH YOU WERE DEAD!”

”But I am technically dead, underworld, remember?” I took a slow step back, arms raised as I tried diplomacy. “Hey, look… maybe this doesn’t have to end in violence. We’re both rational adults. Maybe we could—”

“IMMORTAL ART: KING OF THE UNDERWORLD!”

“Oh shit.”