Immortal Paladin

[POV: Ren Xun]

Ren Xun stirred awake, the pounding in his head fading into the muted hum of a flying boat cutting through clouds. His body ached as if it had been trampled by a herd of spirit beasts, but he was alive. That realization alone felt like a miracle, for the last thing he remembered was fire, blood, and the betrayal of the Seven Imperial Houses.

“Who… What happened?”

The smell of incense reached him faintly, mixed with the tang of metal from the array-lines carved into the boat’s frame. He blinked until his vision cleared, then realized he was not alone.

A pair of round, curious eyes stared back at him. The face was delicate, framed by long blonde hair that shimmered faintly under the lantern light. She leaned forward, her chin propped on her small hands, her legs dangling off the chair, much too large for her frame. Her lips curled into a bright, innocent smile.

“You’re awake!” she chirped, voice filled with unrestrained joy. “Stupid Mao said you’d open your eyes soon. To think he is right, irks me… Is there any way for you to return back to sleep?”

Ren Xun blinked, his throat dry. “And… who are you?”

“Ren Jingyi!” she announced proudly, puffing her chest. “I’m Master Wei’s disciple! I used to be a goldfish, but then I became a person. Master says I’m clever now, but sometimes… sometimes I forget things.” She tilted her head, her smile never faltering, though her words carried a childlike sincerity. “But it’s okay! Because Master says my heart is big.”

Ren Xun’s headache was becoming worse. “Ren Jingyi… Ah, of course… I know you…”

“Wait, you already know my name, right? Why even ask? Is there something wrong with your head? Did you forget already about our adventures? I admit, we’ve seen each other just a bit, but my feelings are hurt… What are you going to do about it?”

“…I am sorry… My memories are a little fuzzy…”

“Now, I feel bad,” said Ren Jingyi. “I’m not particularly smart, but I do remember you. Don’t be like that. We’re friends, right? You should remember me!”

Her innocent declaration left Ren Xun speechless for a moment. The world he knew had been turned upside down by the imperial wedding, the Emperor’s words, and the sudden assault. Now, he was on a flying boat, and a disciple who had once been a fish.

He drew a slow breath. “Where… where is this boat taking us?”

Ren Jingyi swung her legs, humming to herself. “To Master, of course! And Alice. And the others. You don’t have to be scared, because Master never loses.” She leaned closer, lowering her voice as if sharing a secret. “The old man, Hei Yuan, said he knew where Master is, so we will rejoin with them as soon as possible.”

“I see,” murmured Ren Xun, recalling what just happened. “Da Wei… Yeah… If it’s him, we’ll find a way out…”

Jingyi tugged on his sleeve gently, breaking his spiral of thoughts. “Don’t be sad, okay? If you’re sad, Master will be sad too. And I’ll be sad too. And then… no one will be happy.” Her eyes watered slightly, as if the very idea of sorrow was unbearable to her.

Ren Xun forced a weak smile. “…I’ll try not to be.”

Her mood instantly brightened again. “Good! Because when we find Master, he’ll fix everything. That’s what he always does!”

Ren Xun remembered. It had been a year already since they had fled the Imperial Capital. That day of carnage had never left his mind, replaying in his dreams and in the still moments between breaths. It had taken them several months of wandering, retreating, and hiding to return to the Riverfall Realm. Yet fate showed no mercy. When they finally set foot in his homeland, they suffered an ambush. In the fight that followed, his skull had been struck. A concussion stole him from the world, locking him in darkness.

Now awake, he sat up slowly, his head pounding faintly. His lips trembled as he asked, “How long had it been since I lost consciousness?”

A voice cut through the silence, steady and calm. Hei Mao emerged from the shadows, his long red scarf trailing behind him, dark hair untouched by time, his unfathomable cultivation pressing against the room like a silent wall. “Not less than a week,” Hei Mao said.

The sight of him, unchanged, stirred a fragile comfort in Ren Xun’s heart. Yet it also cracked something deeper. Tears welled without warning, spilling down his face. “It’s my fault… If only we didn’t have the wedding… Lin Lin… she wouldn’t have been taken away… My parents would still be alive… and the Emperor, His Majesty…”

Ren Jingyi gasped, round eyes brimming with accusation as she spun toward Hei Mao. “Look what you did! You made him cry!”

Hei Mao raised both hands defensively, expression callous. “It’s not my fault! People cry, okay!?”

Ren Xun blinked at the exchange, then laughed through his tears, the sound a strange mix of grief and relief. He wiped his face with his sleeve and bowed his head slightly. “I apologize for my unsightly appearance.”

But deep down, he knew the truth. He could only blame himself. He was weak, pitifully so. His cultivation lingered at the Second Realm, Mind Enlightenment, far too meager compared to the titans who had crushed his world. The only skill he could truly claim was his mastery of formations, and even that felt like a candle flame against a raging storm. Beyond that, he was nothing.

A shadow crossed his face as he straightened. “Stop.”

Hei Mao tilted his head. “Excuse me?”

“I said stop.” Ren Xun’s tone had hardened. “Stop the vessel at once.”

“Why?” Hei Mao pressed, a frown tugging at his lips.

“I want to stay.”

The door slammed open with a bang. Hei Yuan, Patriarch of the Shadow Clan, stormed in, robes billowing with authority. “Your Royal Highness, surely you don’t mean that… The Riverfall continent is the most dangerous place for you. The enemy will be searching here first, aware that this is your homeland! Lord Ancestor, please enlighten his Royal Highness—”

Hei Mao rolled his eyes with visible irritation. “I told you to stop calling me that…”

Ren Xun’s jaw tightened. “And for you to stop calling me ‘your royal highness.’”

Hei Yuan lowered his head but pressed on, his tone weighted with urgency. “I mean this without disrespect, but you are the hope of the Empire—”

Ren Xun cut him off. “We both know that’s Da Wei.”

Hei Yuan’s gaze flickered, but he stood his ground. He turned toward Hei Mao and Ren Jingyi, voice laced with iron. “I mean no offense when I say this, but Da Wei is a divine being of too much eccentricity. I would not be surprised if he had no interest in saving the Empire. His Eminence would likely focus on evacuating the people he cared for, instead.”

Hei Mao smirked faintly. “I think my master would have something different to say.”

Ren Jingyi piped up with complete certainty, her childlike voice breaking the tension. “Yeah! He’d at least set the Empire on fire first, before he evacuates people.”

The room fell silent as every eye turned to her. She blinked innocently, blonde hair swaying as if she hadn’t said anything strange at all.

Ren Xun coughed into his sleeve to hide the awkwardness. “…I want to stay.”

Hei Yuan clenched his fists, stepping forward with conviction. “Then hear me, Your Highness. With the betrayal of all Seven Imperial Houses, none who carry the Emperor’s blood remain qualified to ascend the throne. With the late Prince Ren, your father, gone, and your siblings slain, the mantle falls to you. Whether you wish it or not, the responsibility cannot be avoided. It is not an exaggeration to say you are the hope of the Empire.”

Ren Xun’s voice was quiet yet firm as he said, “I refuse to believe that.”

The words hung in the air, and Hei Yuan narrowed his eyes, clearly displeased. Ren Xun, however, knew where the old man was coming from. The Shadow Clan patriarch had long since aligned his interests with the survival of the Empire, and when fate had brought Da Wei into their path, Hei Yuan’s conviction only grew stronger. To him, Da Wei was the inevitable fulcrum upon which the Empire’s destiny balanced. Thus, when the chance came to flee the Capital and regroup under Da Wei’s banner, Hei Yuan had urged it immediately, confident it was the only correct move.

Ren Xun shook his head, his tone steady despite the tremor of fatigue that still lingered from his coma. “I can’t be the hope of the Empire. At best, I would be reduced to a puppet, and I don’t want that. I want to take my life seriously after so long. I want to take fate in my own hands and make something out of it.”

Hei Mao leaned back, scarf fluttering slightly as though even the air bent to his presence. “What do you suggest?”

“I am going to put up a fight.” Ren Xun’s fingers rubbed against each other, forming invisible calculations, his mind racing. He could almost see the diagrams and lines forming in his head, the product of his cultivation in the Second Realm, Mind Enlightenment. Though his strength was meager compared to others, his thoughts moved swiftly, dissecting possibilities, probabilities, and risks.

He began to lay his reasoning out. “We will be just a burden to Da Wei. Even if we do reunite with him, we’d offer more disadvantages than advantages. Not to mention the series of challenges we would have to face, including the time, logistics, and spontaneous misfortunes that may land on our laps. In that duration, we would have achieved more by staying here in Riverfall. My father and mother may have perished, but the Ren name still holds weight, and the same goes for my mother’s bloodline that represented this realm since the ancient times. We still have Yellow Dragon City, even if it is crawling with agents of the rebels. Also, a wealth of assets and resources that father accumulated over decades. If you help me, my fighting chance will just continue to soar.”

Ren Jingyi tilted her head, her golden hair catching the lantern light, her eyes wide with childlike honesty. “I don’t mean to be rude, but you are only at the Second Realm… The Shadow Clan was filled with average cultivators, too.”

Hei Yuan scowled, waving a hand sharply. “Hey, that’s too much, child.”

Hei Mao, however, let out a small huff of amusement. “She’s not wrong. You might have more than a fighting chance with me around, but I am only a single person. Who knows what kind of forces the ’rebels’ can muster? That old fox, Jia Sen, was already too much to handle.”

Hei Yuan folded his arms, his tone turning grim. “I think in their eyes, we are the rebels.”

Ren Xun’s eyes sharpened with a spark of conviction glinting behind his exhaustion. “Even a Mind Enlightenment cultivator could match the wit of a Tenth Realm or Eleventh Realm cultivator, especially if they didn’t have arts or techniques that specifically improved their mental ability.”

Ren Jingyi blinked and frowned. “What does that even mean?”

Ren Xun’s lips curved into a faint, bitter smile. “Those words were told to me by His Majesty himself. He praised me, saying I had the wit to overcome stronger foes with nothing but my thoughts. That even if my cultivation lagged behind, my mind was a blade sharper than most.”

Hei Yuan frowned deeper, doubt etched into his weathered face. “Words of praise, perhaps. But against the tide of betrayal from the Seven Imperial Houses, wit alone will not stop the storms that come.”

Ren Xun’s gaze hardened, no longer wavering. “That is why I have a plan.”

Hei Yuan’s voice rose, the timbre of his anger rattling the quiet cabin. His eyes glowed with something old, something hardened by generations of shadows lurking under the sun of empire. “When Da Wei knocked on my clan’s doorsteps, he set off a series of events that brought the ruin of my clan. And yet, through his grace, we survived. I’ve learned since then that there are forces beyond me, beyond all reason, where the only appropriate response to calamity is to run. That is the lesson carved into my bones, the lesson of survival.”

His hand clenched into a fist as his words quickened. “That’s why, when the coup took place and the Imperial Capital was drowned in blood, I knew the right choice was to run. I didn’t think, I didn’t hesitate. I gathered what I could of my clan and fled. We eventually rejoined with you in Deepmoor. From there, I commanded my people to scatter like shadows, to continue their duties, work their ways into the ranks of those who think they are victors, and spy. That is what we are, what we have always been… eyes in the dark and unseen blades in the cracks of stone.”

Hei Yuan’s tone deepened, his words dropping one after another like stones into a bottomless well. “And do you know what I learned, Your Royal Highness? We are going to lose. They have experts within their ranks that I could never hope to match for. They have treasures that bend reason and could do wondrous things. They have the backing of the Heavenly Temple itself. And above it all, they have a fox monster whose nature even our Lord Ancestor could not overcome.”

He leaned forward, his anger settling into bitter steel. “Tell me, Your Royal Highness, what manner of plan do you have that could tilt the odds in your favor? What weapon, what scheme, what trick will give you the right to make the stand you so ferociously desire?”

Ren Xun did not immediately answer. His eyes, clear despite the weight pressing down upon him, lingered on the floor before drifting upward. He inhaled slowly, the bitterness of his earlier lament now replaced by something sharper, something that cut through despair like a blade through silk.

When he spoke, his voice was quiet, but it carried the force of certainty.

“Dragons.”