Immortal Paladin

The future was unpredictable. That, ironically, was the one thing I could rely on. It didn’t matter how many prophecies you read, how many simulations you ran, or how clever your guesses were. Nothing could prepare you for the real thing. And no, I hadn’t seen any of this coming.

The vision snapped away, yanking me back into reality. I stumbled a step forward, catching myself with a hand to the ground. The surge of raw understanding that had just washed over me now evaporated into cold dread. I wasn’t just alarmed… I was fucked. Like… fuck! And like… oh shit!

The final boss was the Game Dev of LLO.

That was possibly the worst possible outcome.

The old man… or entity… wasn’t just powerful. He was foundational to everything I understood as the game. He made the power system I had been leaning on since entering this world. His NPCs had real souls. His systems had laws beyond logic. He wasn’t just an opponent; he was a metaphysical architect. A cosmic cheat code. And somehow, I had to beat that?

To say I was shitting my pants would be a disservice to the feeling. No, I wasn’t literally shitting my pants, thank the heavens, but my soul was dry-heaving in silent horror. I kept my composure. Outwardly, I was calm and unbothered. Regal, even. But Alice cocked her head, her crimson eyes narrowing.

“Your heart rate just increased sporadically,” she said, voice smooth but edged with concern. “Is something wrong?”

I shook my head, then thought better of it. “How much do you know about the Lost Supreme?”

“In Losten,” she said without hesitation, “he was worshipped as a mischievous god, cursed to be lost forever. A trickster who created illusions, tested mortals, and built the game called ‘life’ only to disappear forever and never be seen again.”

I sighed. I missed Dave, my holy spirit buddy who used to whisper useful lore into my head like a walking wiki. But since he wasn’t here, Alice would have to do. At least she had access to strange knowledge.

“Then how do you beat him?”

She blinked slowly. “There’s no defeating him,” she said. “Unless… you call upon his siblings. That’s how the myth goes.”

She paused, then began to recite, her voice soft as falling snow, her eyes distant:

“One Supreme, chained by blood,

Cast from star and stone and mud,

Into the void he fell alone,

No realm to claim, no kin to own.

“In exile cold, he forged a game,

A mirrored world to house his name.

But none may find what he once knew—

Not gods, not ghosts, not me, not you.”

“Wait,” I said, rubbing my temple, “he has siblings?”

Alice nodded slightly. “The old myths speak of many Supremes, but only one that got lost.”

A pattern was beginning to form. A stupid, inevitable pattern. I always suspected the Lost Supreme to be a Supreme Being. The name practically screamed it. “Is there another way to beat him without relying on his siblings?” I asked. “Something less… sibling-dependent?”

Alice pursed her lips. “You beat him in the head?”

I turned slowly and stared at her.

She avoided my gaze.

That… was awkward.

Before I could press her on whether she was joking or not, Gu Jie collapsed onto her knees. Blood trailed from her eyes like wine down a porcelain vase. She trembled, writhing in pain. Lu Gao and Jia Yun rushed to her side, steadying her, whispering words of comfort. She grabbed my sleeve with trembling fingers.

“Master…” she rasped, tears still flowing, “I have a… strategy…”

Whatever it was, it had better be good.

We didn’t waste time after that.

Soon, we stood before the gates of the Demonic Cult’s stronghold. Towering doors carved from ancient bones and lacquered with darkness loomed ahead of us, flanked by statues of writhing serpents and mournful saints. The wind whispered secrets between the cracks of the stone.

I raised my fist to knock, but the moment my knuckles touched the surface, the gates creaked open.

No one greeted us.

The entrance gaped like a hungry mouth, and I had the distinct feeling I’m not gonna like this.

“Just act natural, Master, like how you usually act with others…” Gu Jie whispered, her voice hushed like a knife’s edge against silk. “I will handle the rest.”

I didn’t want to be here. Every fiber of my being screamed to be back in New Willow, poring over maps, reviewing formations, and plotting contingencies like a rational human being. Not here. Not walking into the gilded jaws of an ego-obsessed warlord who liked to drape his vanity across every inch of his palace.

Still, we pressed forward through the Demonic Cult’s twisted hallways.

The hallways were long and windowless tunnels of crimson lacquer with serpent engravings that seemed to hiss as we passed. The atmosphere was thick with something perfumed and pungent, like incense masking rot.

Soon, we reached the throne room.

The throne room was a black cavity at the end of it all. Massive, opulent, and deliberately overdone. A hundred candles danced along the walls, casting long shadows that twisted and merged into devilish shapes. Sitting on a mountain of bones carved into a throne was Ru Qiu, the so-called Heavenly Demon. His long dark hair draped down his shoulders like a funeral veil, and his black-and-red robes shimmered like blood in oil.

He didn’t rise. He just grinned.

“I see…” Ru Qiu drawled, voice like honeyed venom. “You’ve come to die…”

I stepped forward and promptly spat on his overpriced carpet. It made a satisfying splack that echoed a little too nicely. “Just so you know, it won’t happen like last time.”

“I will kill you,” Ru Qiu replied, lifting a finger as if that counted as gravitas.

“I’m gonna wipe your ass,” I said dryly.

“I will destroy you.”

“Your brain’s the size of a chili.”

“I will annihilate you.”

“Wow, your vocabulary is so rich.”

He didn’t miss a beat. “You bark at gods with borrowed breath. Die loud, fool… you’re courting Death.”

Did he just rhyme? A sword materialized in his hand, forged from black flame and arrogance. He raised it, tilting his chin like some tragic opera villain. I couldn’t help myself.

“Poetic too… And it rhymes,” I said, then offered my own counter-verse. “How about a prophecy? From me?”

He glared, silent.

I cleared my throat and rapped, “You swung, got dropped, now you’re stuck on the stretcher.

Talk big, but you leak like a broken pressure.

I beat you so bad, now you piss through a catheter.”

There was a pause. It hung in the air like moldy cheese in a banquet hall.

Lu Gao leaned toward me, whispering, “Master… that’s so bad…”

Hip-hop clearly wasn’t native to his mental diet.

Jia Yun added with a confused frown, “What even is a catheter? A torturing tool?”

“Kind of…” I whispered back, unsure if I should be proud or ashamed.

Ru Qiu’s aura suddenly flared, black smoke whipping from his robes as the throne cracked beneath him. His fury ignited the temperature of the entire hall.

“How dare you make a fool of me—”

”Well, it was your fault. You started it. You recited that weird poem.”

I knew we had to see this through. As much as I hated it, Ru Qiu was our best lead, and maybe our wild card in dealing with what was to come. The vision I saw through Gu Jie’s soul still played at the edges of my mind: Wen Yuhan drinking Meng Po’s tea, fighting side-by-side with Ru Qiu, and some outcome that had yet to materialize. It was starting to become hazy, but the feeling of necessity was sharp as a blade.

“You are lucky,” said Ru Qiu, his voice cutting through my thoughts like a shard of black glass.

I blinked, only realizing then that he had reined in his murderous aura. He sank back onto his cracked throne like a beast dragging itself into its den. For the first time, I really looked at him, not just as the demonic cultivator sitting in some horror show of a palace, but as a person. A very wounded person.

“Pffft…” I let out a dry chuckle. “Still hurt from last time? Man, you must suck a lot. I mean, there were what? Two realms between us, with you on the upper hand?” I clicked my tongue in mock sympathy. “Embarrassing.”

“You. Are. Annoying,” he growled through clenched teeth, though the edge in his voice had dulled.

I leaned forward, tone shifting into something colder. “I know.” If there was one thing I excelled at, besides miraculously staying alive, it was being a thorn in the side of people I didn’t like. ”It’s my specialty.”

“How about a favor for a favor?” I offered. “Let me heal you, and in return, you join me on Sealed Island.”

His eyes flickered. A split-second of surprise broke through the usual haughty mask. Good. I struck again before he could collect himself.

“Where are your people? Why is this palace so damn empty?” I swept my Divine Sense around once more, confirming what I already knew… Ru Qiu was completely alone.

“It’s none of your business,” he said flatly.

I didn’t back off. I climbed the steps to his throne without asking permission, stopping just shy of his reach. He didn’t move. Didn’t look up. Just sat there, head lowered, like a fallen tyrant nursing a shattered ego.

“How dare you look down on me?” he hissed, refusing eye contact.

I squatted down in front of him, my elbows resting on my knees. “You’ve got nothing to lose, Ru Qiu. Say yes, I heal you. Say no, and you die.” 

With me squatting down, our eyes were now level. His gaze met mine, dark and bottomless like the void between stars. Slowly, he raised the sword still resting in his hand and then turned it on himself. I didn’t even flinch.

“And then I die,” he said simply, and with one clean swing, he lopped his own head off.

Blood fanned out like a halo behind him. I stood there, covered in the splash, blinking once. “Huh. And here I thought I was the annoying one…”

His head hit the stone with a thud, rolling slightly until I caught it. His lifeless eyes were still locked onto mine. Without wasting another breath, I cast Divine Word: Raise. It cost me quintessence I didn’t really have to spare, and I wasn’t in a generous mood. I jammed the head back onto the stump and waited.

Seconds ticked by.

Then Ru Qiu blinked. Life returned to his body, and disgust bloomed on his face the moment he saw me.

“I didn’t say you could die just yet,” I said with a dry smile.

Gu Jie stepped forward behind me, her voice light but laced with menace. “If you refuse again, you can just die… But knowing my Master, he’ll keep bringing you back until you beg.”

I stepped aside, letting the two of them lock eyes.

“You need to teach your disciple manners, Da Wei,” Ru Qiu said, his voice low, almost amused, though his eyes were anything but.

I didn’t even blink. “She’s my daughter too, so watch your mouth, and I don’t care what you think.”

That seemed to hit a nerve. Ru Qiu raised one hand, sword already rising in it, but Alice slipped from the shadows like a wraith and snatched it away without ceremony. His frown deepened, mouth twitching as if he wanted to protest, but he didn’t.

“You’re outnumbered, outclassed, and can be reasoned with,” I said. “Let’s talk.”

“I refuse,” he said simply.

Again, his aura flared. Malice and momentum built behind it, a rising tide about to crash. I clenched my fists, ready to act. But before I could speak, Gu Jie’s voice rang out like a slap.

“Power above all else!”

Ru Qiu’s killing intent faltered.

Gu Jie’s voice was calm, but steely. “Know when you are beat, Heavenly Demon.”

His mouth curled in a snarl. “How dare a little girl like you lecture me about power?”

“I’ve been indoctrinated by the Demonic Cult since childhood. Raised by its hounds, starved of dignity, and trained by its worst. I know the story. I know the tenets.”

His eyes narrowed.

“You think this is new?” Gu Jie’s voice remained steady. “I didn’t just survive your cult… I lived it.”

Ru Qiu scoffed. “Fools… You’d resort to words now?”

He turned to me with a sneer. “You can only make me submit with power. Nothing else.”

Gu Jie didn’t flinch. Instead, she began reciting the tenets of the Demonic Cult… verbatim, with a clarity and rhythm that could only come from memorization etched through pain.

“Power above all. Mercy is a lie the weak tell themselves.

“Obedience is strength. Doubt is death. Betrayal is truth.

“Kill when commanded. Die when ordered. Smile as you suffer.

“There are no gods. Only masters. Become one or be owned.

“Pain is the teacher. Scars are scripture. Blood is prayer.

“Cleave family. Sever ties. Love nothing but command.

“The outside world is illusion. The Cult is the only real.

“Speak when spoken to. Strike when permitted. Live when allowed.

“Honor is weakness. Survival is victory. Madness is loyalty.

“You are not human. You are a blade. Be sharp. Be silent. Be used.”

Her voice echoed across the throne room, precise and emotionless, like a sermon…

Ru Qiu’s expression shifted. The surprise cracked his mask for a breath. He said nothing, but I could feel his pride twist in discomfort.

Gu Jie continued, “The things I recited were not merely chants. They were the rules I lived by for a time. I was broken by your cult, but I still took its teachings to heart. Because at one point, it was all I had. And then my Master came to me.”

Ru Qiu suppressed a laugh that never quite reached his eyes. “Just kill me already… This is boring me to death.”

Gu Jie tilted her head. “My point is this: the man I see now isn’t the Heavenly Demon I was taught to worship. You’re not the ideal. You’re a shadow.”

That got to him. I could see the flicker of rage.

So I twisted the knife. “You’re a pansy.”

Alice chimed in casually, “A milk drinker.”

I turned to her, lifting a brow.

“What?” she said innocently.

Gu Jie stepped forward. “Fight with us, Heavenly Demon. Because if you do… You won’t lose.”

Ru Qiu’s voice dropped to a gravel whisper. “I will not bend the knee.”

I shrugged. “Then don’t bend.”

Why was this guy so insufferably stubborn? Was pride really worth bleeding for? Maybe it was just the way he was wired, his whole life molded into the shape of defiance. I didn’t know. I didn’t care.

“Stand up,” I said.

He slowly rose from his throne. The reluctant dignity in his posture would’ve been impressive if he didn’t look like a sulking teenager pretending not to care.

Alice extended his sword to him, hilt first, her other hand wrapped around the blade. He snatched it back with a sudden jerk, cutting her palm in the process.

“Cheeky bastard,” Alice muttered, watching her wound close in seconds.

Ru Qiu glanced at the blood, then turned back to me. “Then, it’s a truce.”

Before he could take a single step, I stuck out my foot and tripped him.

Ru Qiu landed flat on his face.

He didn’t move. He just lay there, arms slack, as if debating whether to scream or kill me. His head turned slowly, eyes finding mine, pure fury simmering behind the stare.

“Watch your step,” I said. “Also, don’t lay a hand on my family.”

Ru Qiu’s voice was low, controlled, and lethal. “I will murder you.”