Immortal Paladin

Warp speed was a technology that bent the very fabric of space, folding a lane through the heavens so the Sky Matriarch could flee me so easily. I hated losing, especially to theatrics, so I swallowed the prick of frustration and turned it into something uglier. If I could not catch her, I would leave her a scene to remember.

“Summon: Holy Spirit.”

The sky trembled as if some god had taken a step, and in a crown of searing light, Ezekiel fell. A towering skeleton wreathed in holy fire, plates of divine bone clacking like ruined bells, and eyes like twin suns. It landed on Onesky, roaring in glee as the Holy Spirit took off with fury. Buildings shuddered, banners shredded, and the city’s orderly hum turned to a cry of panic.

I gave the titan a single command. “Destroy their engines of tyranny. Leave nothing that props up their lies. Teach them humility!” It needed no second; Ezekiel smashed plazas into rubble and tore statues from their pedestals, each blow a sermon written in shattered stone.

With a thought, I gave Ezekiel instructions only to destroy structures.

I did not linger as I let my Holy Sword become a streak of light with the fury of a storm. I made quick work of the vast distance that separated me from my destination. In a matter of weeks, I reached my destination. The Ironveil continent was next. Its capital, Highron, was built on iron and arrogance

“Final Adjudication.”

A titanic scale of judgment unfolded above Highron, its chains slamming into market and mansion alike, singeing corrupt officials into ash or hoisting them until their hidden crimes burned in public sight. The Lu Clan’s patriarch was arrogant enough to be absent when the scales judged him, which irritated me. Man, they must have good communication between them, if this was happening already.

“Summon: Holy Spirit.”

Ezekiel descended, replicating the destruction it had just unleashed upon Onecloud City.

I cut across oceans and mountain ranges, landing on the Ashpeak continent. This time, I was expecting a trap and I sprung it. The young matriarch of the Kang Clan had marshaled a trap in their provincial capital, Battlemar, sending in her clan’s experts in a pitched ambush meant to catch a godling off balance. They thought surprise would be their weapon; they forgot the lesson of underestimating an Ascended Soul.

To be fair, they might not even have an idea what an Ascended Soul was.

“Give up,” I said, my boot pinned on the Kang Matriarch’s torso. “Really… You are just making it difficult for yourselves!”

The Kang Matriarch struggled, fleeing me as she used a technique to disappear in a flicker of movement.

“Never!”

“Charge!”

“Surround him!”

“Maintain formation!”

“Unleash your Fighting Spirit!”

They rushed me with blades honed on cruelty and tactics penned in ivory towers, but my responses were simple and loud: Judgment Severance to erase their supernatural advantages, Thunderous and Divine Smites to blow men apart, and Holy Wrath to lift my next strike into another level. The ambush collapsed into noise and bone; I moved like a tyrant of war, and the Kang fighters died in patterns. Some went up in golden light, and others shattered into dust by the force of a Smite that met their guard.

Their young matriarch fought cleverly, jumping between strikes, trying to keep her spear angled to my heart, but cunning could only delay; I carved through her lines until a sliver of opportunity let her slip away like smoke, leaving her to flee with frost teeth and fury in her eyes. “I will kill you! I swear upon my ancestors, we will have our victory!”

And then she vanished with a flicker of movement

“That’s rude,” I remarked. “She didn’t even hear what I had to say.”

Clouds gathered. It was not the drift of ordinary weather but a rolling, deliberate mist that tasted of ancient power. The mist thickened until it took shape, whorls of white knit with shadow, and then the ground itself inhaled. From that cold, the patriarch of Cloud Mist emerged, revealing his true nature, that of a colossal fox of fur and vapor, nine tails unfurling like banners of winter.

“Da Wei,” said the old man. “I am so glad you came!”

The world shivered at his presence and then, in a motion like a closing of a fist, the fox lunged. My sword flashed, but strength met greater strength: a paw descended with the weight of mountains and pinned me into the earth, bone aching under pressure, and breath forced from my lungs as fur and frost pressed across my chest.

”Hey, buddy, you looked smaller than the last time I saw you. What’s the problem? Getting old? Can’t get them up anymore?” My voice slipped out light, almost casual, as if the crushing weight of a mountain-sized paw wasn’t currently grinding me into the earth. The colossal fox above me rumbled, his frame stretching, growing, as if the heavens themselves were his blanket and he had decided to pull them tighter. His paw pressed harder, each claw the length of a tower, and the ground beneath me splintered.

I chuckled despite the pressure. “A [Level 20] Ascended Soul like you fighting against a measly [Level 1] like me? It’s unfair… How about I give you a handicap, and I’ll fight with one eye closed!” I exaggerated a wink, though the strain almost forced my eyelids shut anyway.

Jia Sen’s voice was like rolling thunder, deep and amused, yet carrying the sharp edge of warning. “You sure got a mouth on you… What’s your angle, Da Wei? There has to be a reason why you are exposing yourself this easily… Your Egress spell wouldn’t work inside the Empire with the dome above… So retreat isn’t an option to you…”

Damn fox. He was right, as usual. The dome still held firm over the Empire, sealing me like a bird trapped beneath glass. The usual escape routes with my precious Egress Spell were useless here. Even if I wanted to cut and run, the system itself denied me. That left me with only one option: use the Manasoul I left in Alice’s care.

I felt the thread of that connection hum faintly within me, distant yet steady. They were almost finished drawing their schemes to pull the Emperor out of his entrapment. I caught glimpses through the bond: diagrams of wards, whispered timings, and arguments over whether the other prisoners could be saved alongside him. They were cautious, slower than I’d like, but deliberate. I sighed inwardly. I couldn’t rush them. It had been just a little over two months since I left them, and I’d been raising hell.

Grinding my teeth, I let go of the last shine of my Holy Sword. The radiant blade dissolved into nothing as I drew the Asura Soul back into myself. Its violent essence rejoined my veins, heavy and familiar, like slipping into old armor with dents still carrying memory of past battles. The light dimmed, but the fire inside me grew darker and fiercer.

I looked up at the fox, my body pinned, yet my grin only sharpening. “You know, Jia Sen, there’s something you’ve forgotten. For all your wisdom, for all your pretty speeches about how the dome binds me, you’re still the same beast I punted clean into the Greater Universe once upon a time.” My voice dropped into a whisper edged with resolve. “And I’ll do it again… after I save the Emperor.”

Jia Sen’s laughter boomed above me, a cruel rumble that shook the ground. His voice carried mockery sharpened with hunger. “Save? The Emperor? When you are here, trapped under my paw? You are not going anywhere… Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.”

His words rang in my ears, but instead of rage, I answered with a grin. “I know, right?”

The pressure around me shifted. His claws curled inward, pinching me between his digits with the delicate care of a predator savoring a morsel. The fox’s massive head lowered, his maw opening wide. A chilling fog spilled from between his fangs, rolling across the battlefield like a grave’s breath. The air froze, my skin prickled, and the stench of endless hunger welled up from the abyss of his throat. He lowered me toward it with agonizing slowness, as though he wanted me to feel every heartbeat that drew me closer to oblivion.

“Immortal Art: World Devouring Maw!” Jia Sen’s roar split the heavens as the fog surged outward in a tide of deathly intent.

I tilted my head, smiling as though I’d been waiting for that line. “I guess, shame on you.”

In that instant, I triggered the art I’d been holding back. “Castling.” The world folded. My body vanished from between those claws, reality twisting as my essence swapped with the Manasoul I had left behind.

The next breath I drew was alongside Alice, her eyes widening as I appeared by her side in a flash of displaced air. My vision flared through the tether as the Manasoul I had abandoned in my stead suddenly convulsed, bursting apart in a storm of Heavenly Punishment.

Back with Jia Sen… The sky itself split. A golden sword of judgment descended like the wrath of heaven made manifest, striking Jia Sen squarely across the maw. The impact blossomed into a pillar of divine light that drowned the horizon, blinding in its purity. The fox’s scream followed. It was raw, furious, and filled with agony as his massive jaw shattered, torn away by the celestial strike. His roar echoed across the sky, a sound of both rage and disbelief, as the heavens themselves marked him for punishment.

“That’s one way to go…”

I blinked hard, my sight adjusting as the roar of Jia Sen’s pain faded from memory, replaced by the cozy interior of a modest cottage. A small wooden table sat at the center, and my companions gathered around it, their faces lit by the flickering glow of a lantern. Papers, scribbled notes, and half-drunk cups of tea cluttered the surface.

“Hurry on, don’t mind me,” I urged, leaning against the doorframe with arms folded, forcing myself to sound casual despite the pressure gnawing at my chest. “We have an Emperor to save. The sooner we get this over with, the less chance we’ll have of worrying about a really angry fox interrupting our rescue. We should have enough window time to accomplish this rescue, without having to suffer that fox.”

Alice glanced up from the parchment she was inscribing on, her rosy pink hair catching the lantern light. “We are almost done, anyway. Just a few more adjustments to the plan, and everything will fall in place.”

The wooden door behind me burst open with a deafening crack. Splinters shot across the room as the hinges gave way, and the cold night air rushed inside. Standing in the threshold was a red-haired woman clad in bear rags.

It was Xue Xin, one of the Phoenix Guard, and captain of the Left Wing.

My thoughts stumbled, disbelief echoing in my skull.

All of the Phoenix Guards had been students of the late Divine Physician, each of them schooled in the most exquisite healing arts under heaven. It was no wonder Xue Xin still stood before me, very much alive despite the punishment she had endured. They weren’t called Phoenix Guards for nothing. Her hair, still as vivid as fire, framed a face marked by weariness but unbroken resolve. What caught everyone off guard, though, was her attire… or lack thereof. She wore little more than ragged scraps of cloth, her skin bared, her body carrying scars like badges of survival. She walked past the threshold of the cottage, her eyes locked on me, and then she dropped to one knee with deliberate grace.

“Lord Wei,” she declared, her voice steady though her body trembled from strain.

I studied her, unsettled by both her sudden appearance and her fervor. “I’m glad you’re alive, but… how did you even find us?” That was the source of my disbelief.

Xue Xin raised her head, and the embers in her eyes glimmered with conviction. “His Majesty told me how. He said that though his eyes may no longer be his own, he could still see the threads of destiny, and the traces of your spirit… and those tied closest to him.”

“What else did he say?”

Xue Xin’s lips quivered for the briefest moment before she gathered herself. “To leave him to his fate.”

The words landed like stones in my chest. Before I could respond, Zhu Shin slammed his palms on the table, his voice rising with passion. “We’ve planned as thoroughly as we could! We’ve already secured a vessel large enough to move hundreds without crippling its speed, we’ve scouted their prisons, and we’ve studied their numbers. We can still save His Majesty!” His determination crackled through the air, daring any of us to argue.

But Xue Xin’s reply came sharp and rattled, her composure cracking for the first time. “His Majesty ordered me to tell you this… that this was a trap!”

Her words stabbed deeper than blades. A trap? It explained much, yet also stirred greater questions. My mind churned, but I forced myself to act quickly, to seize the moment before hesitation settled. My gaze locked on her.

“Then lend me your strength,” I said, stepping forward, voice low but unwavering. “Xue Xin… will you consent to me using Divine Possession on you?”

“Yes, My Lord…” Xue Xin whispered, her voice carrying both fear and devotion.

“Divine Possession.”

My spirit unfurled and entered her essence, her soul unresisting as I drowned myself in her memories. They surged like rivers breaking their banks… images, sensations, echoes of laughter and grief all pressing upon me at once.

Her childhood came first. A girl of the Phoenix Clan, raised among lofty halls and shrines dedicated to the firebird. The drills began early; discipline was etched into her bones. She was taught that her body was the Emperor’s shield, her life a match to be struck and extinguished at his command.

The years passed in a blur of rigid indoctrination. I felt her pride and her pain, standing among hundreds, watching those weaker falter and burn out like dying embers. She endured it all, until at last she was chosen, brought under the wing of the Divine Physician herself, Xin Yune. There she learned the arts of healing, the ways of qi circulation, the delicate techniques that could mend even shattered meridians. Her days were filled with scripture, formulae, and the endless study of flesh and spirit.

Memory shifted again, carrying me into the heart of her service. The Left Wing of the Phoenix Guard, her post as captain, her voice commanding hundreds, and her sword aflame as she cut down foes in His Majesty’s name. Through her eyes, I watched loyalty crystallize into unshakable faith.

But even so, beneath the armor and fire, I glimpsed stolen moments: her hand brushing against Lu Gao’s, their quiet words exchanged under lantern light, her heart quickening when she thought no one would see. My disciple’s face burned within her memory, bright as the first dawn.

Yet I did not linger. I pressed further.

Her final memories came swift and sharp. The pain of ice tearing through her body, her flesh breaking apart, her form shattering into powder. Death. Then… rebirth. She awoke mid-flame, her lungs searing as breath returned, the courtyard still reeking of ash and grief.

And there, in the center, was Nongmin.

His body was strung upon a great cross, arms stretched wide, his frame pierced by nails of blackened steel. His eyes were swathed in blood-soaked bandages, crimson seeping endlessly down his cheeks. His aura was dim, yet his presence weighed heavier than mountains.

He turned his head ever so slightly, as though aware of me peering through her memory. His voice, hoarse yet commanding, clawed across the silence:

“David… take over the Empire. Leave me be. This is a trap. If you have any wisdom left, you will flee.”