Immortal Paladin

The first to shuffle into the grand hall was a middle-aged man with straw still clinging to his clothes. He clutched his hands together and blurted out before anyone else could speak. “Lord Paladin, someone stole my pig… and my goat too! That was my livelihood! What am I supposed to do now?!” His voice cracked with a mixture of anger and desperation, echoing in the chamber.

I leaned back against the cold embrace of my throne and waved a hand in dismissal. “The matter of food will solve itself in due time. Patience.” The guard at my side immediately stepped forward and ushered him out. The man’s curses drifted through the hall even as the doors closed behind him.

The next petitioner barely paused before stomping forward, his tone already raised in irritation. “I want a divorce!” he shouted, as though he had rehearsed it on the way in. I pinched the bridge of my nose and held up a hand. “Your problem is not my problem. I’m not here to sort out your marriage woes.” The guard wasted no time, dragging the fellow away before his protests could sour the air further.

No sooner had the echoes faded when another man entered, this one falling to his knees with a resounding thud. His forehead pressed repeatedly against the marble floor as he proclaimed, “Glory to the one true god! Glory to you, my Lord!”

My grimace was probably answer enough, but I still waved my hand sharply. “Take him away before he cracks his skull open. I don’t need worshippers drooling at my feet.” The guard hauled him off while his voice kept ringing out praise for me.

A beggar, ragged and thin, stepped forward next. His voice wavered as he said, “My husband… he was accused of stealing a pig. But he didn’t do it, my Lord. Please, help him.”

I pressed a hand to my forehead, my temper fraying. First it was stolen pigs, now false accusations of stolen pigs. Someone out there had turned livestock theft into a full-time profession. “The matter of food is being addressed,” I said slowly, fighting to keep irritation out of my tone. “Programs are in place to help livestock owners, and I’ll have someone investigate the thefts. Your husband’s case will be reviewed.”

The poor man’s eyes watered with relief as the guard gently pulled him away, and I tried not to sigh too loudly.

When the next citizen entered, her shoulders already trembling, I knew it would not be another pig. She bowed low, tears welling in her eyes. “Please, my Lord… may I return home? Back to the Sacred Groves? I don’t belong here. I just want to go back.”

My reply came harsher than I intended, though I had said the same words countless times already. “No. I’ve explained why again and again. If you go back, you will die.” She broke down crying before me, her voice splintering with grief. “I just… miss home.” Her sobs echoed, and for once, I had no sharp retort ready. Instead, I sat in silence, guilt threading through me like a knife.

It had been months since the battle with the Supreme Void, months since I tore this land free from the False Earth and dragged it into the Hollowed World. Rebuilding was no simple matter. It was one fuckton of a logistical nightmare. Refugees had flooded in from every corner of the False Earth during the Ascension Games, swelling New Willow from a manageable four hundred thousand to nearly seven hundred thousand souls.

Negotiations with neighboring sects and nations occupied every spare moment, each bargain clawing at our dwindling resources. I had expanded the floating land as far as the dragon vein and my cultivation would allow, yet the weight of it pressed constantly against me. If I was called away, if some urgent business came, what then? Would the city collapse without me?

I sat on the opulent golden throne, an absurd relic from a long-ago raid in Lost Legends Online. It had gathered dust in my Item Box until now, repurposed as a seat of rulership. Wan Peng stood solemnly at my left, Alice at my right, both watching the endless stream of citizens who shuffled in with problems only half within my power to solve. The woman before me wept as though her grief would never end, and I could not fault her for it. Her story was not unique. The refugees of New Willow had been dragged here against their will, carried away by my decision to flee the Supreme Void with those I cherished. They had sought safety, but safety had not brought them peace.

Integration was not their desire; all they wanted was the comfort of home. But there was no return journey, not unless one wished to gamble with death itself. The path back to the False Earth demanded impossible resources, unimaginable cultivation, and even then, survival was uncertain. What I had done for them was the only choice I had. Yet here they were, clinging to memories of a world they would likely never see again, and here I was, staring at them from a throne that was never meant for me.

I took a deep breath and leaned forward, speaking softer than I had to any of the others. “I know you miss home. Many of you do. But the truth is, there is no safe path back. What we can do, what we must do, is build a new life here together. I will see to it that resources are found, that opportunities are created, and that this city will not only survive but grow. It won’t be the Sacred Groves, but it can be something greater if we allow it. The past is gone, but the future… the future is still ours to shape.”

The day stretched long, yet I made quick work of the backlog of petitioners who had piled up while my attention had been elsewhere. One by one, citizens came with their woes, their grievances, or their praise, and one by one I gave them answers sharp and short enough to keep the line moving. Most left without satisfaction, though that was hardly my fault; too many of their troubles were rooted in the same issue: scarcity. By the time the last petitioner was ushered out, I found myself walking the increasingly familiar halls of the City Hall.

Wan Peng walked beside me. I inclined my head toward him. “Thank you, Chief Peng, for continuing to help me with the transition. I’d have drowned under the paperwork without you.”

He gave a low chuckle, shaking his head. “I’ve told you already, stop calling me Chief. That title sits on your shoulders now, not mine.”

Alice, trailing a step behind us with her arms folded, cut in with her usual bluntness. “I don’t know about calling you, David, Chief. It just doesn’t fit. You’re not just heading a village. You’re the lord of a territory, whether you like it or not.”

Her words struck deeper than I wanted to admit. It had been my intention from the beginning for New Willow to function on a council, with Wan Peng as its head. Back when it was merely a village of hunters, he had served faithfully as Chief, and I thought that role would continue naturally into the city’s growth. Yet things had changed faster than I could ever control. New Willow was no longer a simple village. It had become a theocratic city-state, and worse, I was its idol, whether or not I wanted the role. The people prayed to me, offered tributes to me, and spoke my name with reverence I found stifling. Wan Peng and the old council had been shifted into administrative roles, keeping the machinery of governance alive beneath my looming shadow. My plan had never been to rule, but here I was, holding the reins of responsibility because I could not turn away from the consequences I had created.

We reached the meeting chamber where the others awaited. Da Ji was already seated, the Shrine Maiden’s robes folded neatly as her hands rested on the table in quiet poise. Fatty Ke Zhen stood by the windows, papers in his hands and exhaustion painted across his features. Scrawny Mai Duyi leaned against the far wall. Along with Alice, Wan Peng, and myself, we formed the core decision-makers of New Willow.

I settled into the seat at the head of the chamber, letting the silence draw long enough for all eyes to turn toward me. “This council is now in session. Let us hear your reports. What progress has been made?”

Da Ji inclined her head.. “Tomorrow would be a good time for mourning. Much has been prepared already. The people need closure to move forward, and not to mention, tomorrow is also the Day of Healing. That alone should bring them some measure of hope.”

Ke Zhen set his papers down with a heavy sigh. “My engineers are overworked. They’ve been repairing, building, and maintaining without pause since we arrived here. If this keeps up, some of them may collapse from exhaustion.”

Mai Duyi straightened from the wall and folded his arms. “Crime is on the rise. Theft, gambling, coercion, even organized gangs beginning to form. It’s growing harder to tell the guilty from the desperate, and investigating each case is stretching my men thin.”

I nodded thoughtfully before giving each their due. “Da Ji, well done. You’ve given the people something to hold onto, and they’ll need that. Ke Zhen, your men can rest tomorrow. A day won’t fix everything, but it might keep them from breaking entirely. As for you, Mai Duyi, I’ll have several of my Guardians who’ve developed Divine Sense assist in investigations. They’ll sniff out lies better than any ordinary enforcer.”

We moved to broader concerns as the chamber grew heavier with discussion. The issue of food weighed on everyone’s minds, along with the gnawing drain of energy that kept the city aloft.

Ke Zhen’s tone sharpened as he leaned over the table. “Why must we consume so many Spirit Stones to keep the thruster arrays active? At this rate, our reserves will vanish faster than we can replace them.”

I steepled my fingers, keeping my voice firm. “Because we must rejoin the Empire as soon as possible. Our current pace is a thousand li an hour, which is already pushing it, but if we could, I’d want us moving even faster. The sooner we’re under Imperial territory, the sooner this bleeding stops.”

Mai Duyi raised a hand. “If food is the issue, my enforcers could join the hunting efforts on the ground level. The wilderness still teems with game.”

I shook my head. “No. I need your men here to keep the peace. If crime spirals out of control, food won’t matter. The Guardians will be enough to handle the hunting.”

We finished the discussion quicker than I expected, the issues laid bare without ceremony and addressed in the only ways we could manage. Soon after, I found myself back in my office. The chamber was quieter than the meeting hall, though the wide balcony offered no rest. It opened directly over New Willow, the city sprawling beneath the pale glow of moonlight and the shimmer of countless stars. The floating city seemed calm from above, lights flickering in the streets like earthbound constellations, but I knew too well the unease that stirred within.

I rested my hands on the railing, my thoughts dragging to the spell I had been casting in secret for weeks now. Egress, the spell designed to carry me back to places of civilization I had already visited. It should have been reliable, an anchor to safety, and a thread to tie my path to the Empire. But each time I cast it, the spell sputtered, died, or refused to connect. Something was wrong. Either with me… or with the Empire itself.

Alice’s voice broke the silence, soft but laced with concern. “Are you okay?”

I forced a smile, shaking my head as if to brush her words aside. “I’m fine. Just… worried if bringing everyone here was the right choice. Maybe I should have only taken my sister, her son, and my parents. The rest… maybe I dragged too many people into my mess.”

She gave me a sharp look, her lips pressing into a thin line. “That doesn’t sound like you. You’re the type to be unrestrained, reckless even… goofy in a way that drives everyone crazy. Don’t start acting like someone you’re not.”

Her words stung in their accuracy. Alice had begun to read me far too well. Not a few days ago, I had been prancing around with Chibi Perfume, shrinking myself for laughs, running through the city like a child with too much sugar. She had captured me, forced me back into work mode, but she had also glimpsed the side of me I usually hid behind walls of responsibility. Now that little bottle of perfume was with Chen Wei, the oversized baby who deserved a chance at childhood. I sighed, realizing just how absurd and how out of whack my life had become since arriving in this world.

“Moreover, it’s better this way,” added Alice. “The False Earth would just shred them apart.”

With a flick of thought, I conjured a cigarette made from quintessence, the translucent stick forming between my fingers with wisps of pale light. I lit it with a controlled Searing Smite, drawing the smoke into my lungs as I leaned against the railing. The taste was sharper than tobacco but familiar enough to soothe my nerves. Alice joined me silently, leaning on the railing in the same casual way, her shoulder almost brushing mine.

“Still having waking nightmares?” she asked after a moment.

I exhaled slowly, the smoke curling into the night air. “Yeah. They haven’t gone away.”

At first, I thought they were another trick of the Supreme Void, lingering spite from the enemy that had nearly destroyed everything I cared about. But the more I endured them, the more I understood. They weren’t foreign intrusions. They were the Hollowed World itself pressing against me. Meng Po had warned me about pushing into the Eleventh Realm would be bad for me if I stayed in the Hollowed World, and now I felt the creeping edge of insanity at the corners of my mind. Hei Mao, who had also climbed into the Eleventh Realm, should have been suffering the same torment. If not, then perhaps it was just me unraveling.

And then there was Alice. She was already at the Ascended Soul stage, the equivalent of completing the Eleventh Realm, a Perfect Immortal in all but title. Yet she showed no cracks, no madness. The difference lay in her cultivation. She fell in the category of Transcendent Cultivation, after all. Perhaps that path shielded her from the same corruption gnawing at me.

Her next question came without hesitation. “And your Divine Spark? Your body?”

I took another drag, answering with a shrug. “I guess I’m fine.”

The truth was far stranger. I waved my hand, letting a thin trail of quintessence follow, shimmering like smoke but fading slower, as though reluctant to leave me. When I had been torn out of my body and cast into the Underworld, I arrived not as a man, but as a soul. During my cultivation there, I learned I could create souls, something no human should ever be able to do. I now carried six souls within me, cultivated as if they were extensions of myself. If I weren’t human, then what was this body? That was the mystery I had been forced to confront, one that only grew darker the deeper I dug.

As for my Divine Spark, I owed its recovery to that mysterious helper from the False Earth. The Spark had returned, dim and fragile, but alive. With it, I could eventually reclaim the Paladin Legacy I had lost. Yet nurturing it back to its full brilliance would be no easy path. It would demand time, faith, and more strength than I currently have.

Alice shifted closer, leaning gently against my shoulder. Her warmth grounded me more than I cared to admit. “Whatever comes,” she murmured, her voice soft but steady as she affirmed countless times, “I’ll be here. You don’t have to face any of this alone. Not anymore.”

Her words sank deeper than the smoke in my lungs, and for a fleeting moment, the weight pressing down on me felt lighter.

“So cheesy,” I muttered under my breath.

Alice’s head tilted, her eyes narrowing into a flat glare that could pierce steel. “You just have to ruin it, don’t you?”