Immortal Paladin

I let myself sink into Lu Gao’s memories like slipping into someone else’s coat, warm, familiar, and slightly too tight in places. He’d taken a dangerous task for me: to spy on the Heavenly Temple and tail a rot of unlikable vipers who had wormed their way into my cultivation. I could feel his cultivation humming under my skin, Eighth Realm, solid as granite and far steadier than the trembling candle I’d left behind in other bodies. It had been a hundred years since the Civil War in the Empire had ignited; centuries of ash still blew on the wind. I was almost ready on my side, but first I had to finish this chore properly. So that I wouldn’t suffer any complications or surprises.

I sent a thought of gratitude down into Lu Gao’s bones. “Thank you for taking this risk, disciple.” My voice was rougher than his as they left my lips.

“As your devoted paladin, this is my duty,” Lu Gao replied with all seriousness. “Finding heathens for your eminence to burn is my duty.”

I moved in his body with ease. The Hell Soul clung to his being so intimately; the borrowed power tightened my stance, steadied my breath, and made the world seem clearer. From above, the dark castle crouched in the dunes like a wound on the sand, black stone, towers like teeth, and lights at the windows like eyes. I kept to the clouds, using Zealot’s Stride, letting the wind hide my approach and the dust below forget the shape of my steps.

Mist coalesced beside me, and a familiar laugh slid out of it. Jue Bu appeared, draped in silk, perturbingly feminine in form, a temptress’s cut to the robe and a smile that had ruined a dozen plans in days past.

“So,” Jue Bu purred, arching a brow, “who are you tonight? Lu Gao or Da Wei?”

“Da Wei,” I said. “And do you really like being a woman that much?”

Jue Bu’s laugh had a blade in it. “What, does it irk you to see your ‘body’ rendered beautiful? I thought you were above petty complaints.”

I sighed inwardly. “I’m starting to regret calling you. Also, I still hate you for what you pulled back in the Promised Dunes.”

“Oh, come now, small grievances like that?” Jue Bu’s face twisted into mock offense. “That’s a long time ago.. erm… by mortal standards, anyway. Still, I thought you had the decency to grow a superior sense of humor by now and maybe an open mind.” He flicked a hand and, with a flourish, shifted. Silk became tailored black, breasts flattened into muscle, the feminine curves folding back into a masculine frame. He changed clothes on the spot like one changes masks.

“I had to appear feminine, not because I particularly enjoy it,” he said, now in that confident, male voice I’d come to both despise and respect. “It’s for Liu Yana, the Radiant Queen. A woman at a sovereign’s side with a man as her constant guard draws suspicion, especially from the Heavenly Temple. With your face on a woman’s body, they see a different story. Subtle deception. Useful. Hmmm… What else? Ah, what are we exactly doing here? And does the brooding castle below us have something to do with us being here?”

I pointed down with my chin. “We’re going to destroy it.”

Jue Bu floated beside me, arms folded, his sharp gaze glinting beneath the rolling cloud-mist. The dunes below stretched endlessly, a golden sea frozen under the shadow of the black castle. Every grain of sand seemed to hold whispers of prayers… 

…Prayers meant for me.

Jue Bu’s lips curled into that mocking smile of his. “What did they do to you?”

I exhaled slowly. “Worshipping me.”

His brow rose. “Oh, so heretics, then? The same ones who had been defacing your name to the rest of the world…” He shook his head, a rare hint of disbelief on his face. “I didn’t expect the Heavenly Temple to stoop to something like this.”

“Neither did I,” I said. “But the Temple’s desperation has grown… They’ll turn even worship into a weapon if it means their absolute victory.”

From within me, Lu Gao’s voice echoed faintly, respectful and weary. “It took me some time to track them, but I managed somehow while pretending loyalty to the Temple. I think I won’t be coming back there, Master… I’m fairly certain they plan to refine me into a pill.”

A grim smile tugged at my lips. “That would’ve been an unfortunate end for you, Lu Gao. Divine Transformation.”

Purple flames burst from my body, wreathing my form in divine fury. Six dark wings tore free from my back with a wet rip, scattering embers of black light through the mist. A pair of jagged horns erupted from my forehead, humming with power as my aura flooded the desert sky.

Jue Bu whistled softly, impressed. “What kind of enemies are we expecting? How strong?”

“Transcendence practitioners,” I replied, my voice deeper now, layered with echoes. “Likely at the level of Legend or Quasi-God. Be alert… they might have surprises up their sleeves.”

He grinned, stretching out a hand. Purple quintessence swirled around him, forming into a sleek blade. Flame, putrid miasma, and virtuous qi danced along its edge in equal measure. It was beauty and corruption entwined.

“Don’t overexert yourself,” I warned, glancing at the faint cracks running along his aura. “You’re still injured.”

“I’ll be fine,” Jue Bu said with a shrug. “The Promised Dunes’ physicians did their work well. And your Heaven Soul wasn’t exactly subtle about patching me up, either. Anyway…” He twirled his sword and gave me that infuriating grin. “I’ll leave the entrance to you. Land your first strike, oh fearsome Great Guard.”

“You don’t need to tell me twice.”

I raised my right hand and reached into the storm of my own power. One of my smaller wings shuddered, and I tore it free, pain screaming through every fiber of my being. The sacrifice burst into light, feeding the growing spell before me.

“Final Adjudication!”

The air cracked. A colossal golden scale manifested above the black castle, its balance trembling with divine judgment. Chains of law and light spilled from the heavens, weaving through the clouds as they descended, ready to lash against sinners and drag the guilty into the light.

I spoke, my voice carried over Qi Speech, clear as a blade through the soul.

“Children of the black stone, hear me.”

“If in your breasts you truly bore the name of the Great Guard, if you bent your will to its laws, humbled your pride before its charge, and guarded the weak instead of devouring them, then lay down your arms now, accept the penance I offer, and receive the correction of your faults. Repentance cleanses; accept the punishment I mete with a bowed heart, and you shall be spared from the final, empty ruin.

“But if you are false, worshipping my image as a shield for cruelty, mistaking my name for an excuse to slaughter and to enslave, then know this: your sin will not be washed by words nor cloaked by prayers. You will pass where sinners pass, and the afterlife will take you as it will take all who squandered mercy.

“If, between these extremes, there remain those who followed the true teaching of the Great Guard, who took up its burdens and lived by its code even when the world cursed them, stand forth. Your fidelity shall be seen, and your lives shall be spared. The guileless heart that holds its vow will not be broken by my judgment.

“Remember this: the Great Guard is no idol to be kissed nor a trinket to be used; it is a burden to bear. It is not a crown upon the brow but a hand upon the shoulder, a charge given, not a throne taken. To claim the name and refuse its duty is the deepest betrayal; to answer its call, even at the cost of self, is the truest exaltation.”

Final Adjudication was divided into three phases.

The first phase had already turned the weakest to ash as I observed in my Divine Sense several lives snuffed from existence. The second had fractured the sky, restraining those present. Now came the third, the moment where karma was weighed and truth made cruelly visible. The Scales of Judgment floated high above, radiant and immense, casting a shadow of balance across the desert. Even I felt its weight on my spirit.

Jue Bu stood beside me, smirking. “I never get tired of seeing your big spells. They’re a feast for the eyes.”

His voice was amused, the kind of tone that didn’t belong in the presence of something divine. But that was Jue Bu. He could find humor in a funeral.

Then the castle below erupted, walls breaking outward as warriors poured from its depths, blades gleaming and armor wet with some dark oil. Their leader strode forth, a woman whose mana twisted the dunes themselves, her eyes burning with crimson light. A Demi-God, though only just. The rest of her troops were Quasi-Gods and Legends, perhaps more than fifty of them.

Jue Bu stretched lazily, brandishing his sword. “I’ll deal with the small ones. Go have a word with their boss.”

“I can handle—”

“Oh, hush. You’ll only pity them. Weaklings, they are… Let me get my hands dirty.”

He vanished in a shimmer of violet smoke, seven afterimages splitting off, each forming a sphere of corruption around the nearest zealots. Purple fire rose and flickered, swallowing the screams of those within. Some of them burst free, burned but furious, charging him again. Jue Bu only laughed. “That’s right! Come on! Give me a good fight before you die!”

The Demi-God woman dragged a broadsword of black iron across the sand, each step heavy enough to carve trenches in the dunes. But then, her aura spiked, her mana surged, swirling like a storm as a golden sigil ignited beneath her feet.

“Zealot’s Stride!”

She vanished in a burst of sacred light, crossing the distance between us in the blink of an eye. The air shattered where she’d stood, a thunderclap following her movement. One instant, she was a figure on the horizon, and in the next, her blade was already descending toward my head, corrupted divine flame crackling along its edge, the sheer force behind it enough to split any lesser cultivator.

I didn’t even flinch.

“Divine Smite,” uttered the woman. “Fall upon my blade, false prophet!”

As her strike fell, I raised my hand and caught the broadsword by its edge. The impact rolled through the dunes, sending shockwaves in every direction, but I stood unmoved, sand swirling around my feet, golden light from the fractured sky bathing us both.

“Zealot’s Stride? Divine Smite?” I said softly, my grip tightening as her weapon trembled. “You mock me by using my own spell against me?”

The sword groaned, sparks bursting in my hand as she forcibly took them away. Divine light crawled up her arm, searing her flesh, as if the very heavens rejected her right to wield the power.

Her eyes widened in disbelief.

The woman’s eyes burned with madness as her voice trembled between defiance and desperation. “How is this possible?! I am the pope of the Church of Da Wei, his most faithful servant!”

I stared at her in disbelief. “There is no Church of Da Wei!”

Her broadsword gleamed as she tried to raise it again. I caught the blade mid-swing and clenched my fist. Metal screamed, then shattered into molten fragments, the broken pieces scattering like sparks in the wind.

“There’s no god,” I said coldly, my voice echoing through the dunes. “There’s only those who shoulder responsibility… and those who twist it.”

She staggered backward, terror seizing her face. Ash spread from her fingertips up to her neck as the divine fire of judgment crept along her veins. This same spell had felled Lu Gao’s demonized form in Yellow Dragon. It was devastating against anything that bore the semblance of corruption.

She tried to speak, her voice trembling, “I refuse to listen—”

I seized her by the head. “Then perish in your stubbornness.”

With a single motion, I crushed her skull between my palm, bone, flesh, and sanctified filth, bursting apart in a golden flare. Her body tumbled backward, twitching, the divine smite burning away what remained of her soul.

I hated this… truly, I did. These zealots could’ve been redeemed once. But the more I saw of them, the clearer it became that they were too far gone. Their practices alone were proof enough: burning “unworthy” children alive as offerings, bloodletting rituals beneath false altars, and feeding the tongues of their captured dissenters to statues carved in my image.

I had become their excuse for cruelty.

The Scales of Judgment above me whirled faster, blazing brighter. Chains of radiant light whipped across the battlefield, seizing the remaining heretics. Some screamed before being incinerated, others were dragged upward and consumed in pillars of golden fire streaked with hellish red.

When the last cry faded, only the crackling of sacred flame remained.

Jue Bu landed beside me, brushing dust from his sleeve. Purple fire coiled around him as he released the last threads of his Immortal Art, erasing the survivors in a single gesture.

He sighed. “Next time, Da Wei, you do the talking after they surrender. Or in this case, don’t talk at all, and just move on with the smiting, okay?”

The great Scales of Judgment above me flickered, their brilliance fading until they dissolved completely, like embers snuffed by a silent wind.

“Shut up, Jue Bu,” I muttered.

He only grinned, the purple fire wreathing his shoulders dimming as I lifted my hand and began casting Exorcise, followed by Searing Smite. Holy light flooded the sands, sweeping over what was left of the heretics’ bodies. Flames that burned hotter than remorse turned bone and flesh to silver-gray ash. The air itself seemed to shiver beneath the weight of divine purification.

When the last echoes of burning died, we entered the castle. The moment I crossed the threshold, regret clawed at my chest. There was nothing left here, no survivors, and no souls to speak to, just fine gray powder where life used to be.

I had hoped, foolishly, that one would survive. Someone I could ask why. Someone I could tell the truth to.

They had worshiped me, however twisted that belief had become. And yet… I understood why this had to be done. Faith twisted by lies spreads faster than truth ever could. If left alone, these zealots would’ve remade me in the image they imagined… a false god of their own design.

But still… Alice had been right. I couldn’t save everyone.

The inner sanctum opened before us like the mouth of some dead god. Its air was thick with sanctified incense and blood, and the walls were alive with color. Murals stretched from floor to ceiling, depictions of me, warped into a grotesque mythology.

Scenes of “Da Wei” emerging from the heart of the Void, haloed by black suns. Of “Da Wei” taking woman after woman into his fold, branding them with tongues of flame to make them his preachers. Of “Da Wei” sundering the Summit not to stop genocide, but to assert his dominion. Even the fall of the Empire was painted as an act of divine ego, as though I had wanted it to crumble to prove my greatness.

And then… There was Nongmin, crucified, haloed, and weeping blood.

At the center of the sanctum stood a statue, a monstrous idol carved with exquisite, horrifying precision. My form, larger than life: a mockery of divinity and desire. The sculptor had captured every vein, every line, every strand of hair as though worship demanded blasphemy. Women clung to the idol’s legs, their faces carved in adoration. One child lay beneath the sword it held, impaled, frozen mid-scream. Around the statue’s throat coiled a scarf of entrails that spiraled like a garland.

Jue Bu whistled softly. “They really didn’t hold back. But damn, Da Wei… you look like a hedonistic overlord from hell.”

I felt my jaw tighten. “They made this in my name,” I said. “This isn’t worship. It’s a mockery of everything I stand for. The Heavenly Temple will pay…”

Jue Bu tilted his head. “So, how do you want to handle this mess?”

“Leave it to me,” I replied, already focusing. “Just keep me alive.”

He stepped aside, his grin fading.

I inhaled deeply and reached into my pocket dimension, not Lu Gao’s but mine. Two Manasouls, brilliant orbs of crystallized essence, floated into my palms. I flooded them with qi, forcing them to resonate and transform them into quintessence. The strain hit immediately, my meridians screamed, and my mana roads flared. On my right hand, I shaped Heavenly Punishment, and on the left, Judgment Severance. One to obliterate, the other to consume.

The air around me warped as I slammed the two forces together before either could fully manifest. Reality rippled. Cracks spiderwebbed through the walls, through the ground, through the world.

Pain exploded through my chest. I reached back and tore off two of my smaller wings, casting them into the forming nexus of power. Their loss stabilized the surge.

A dimensional cross erupted from the ground, stretching upward into the ceiling. Around it, tears in space yawned open like burning wounds. Then… light! Blinding, searing, and divine light. A golden sword descended from the heavens, crashing upon the cross.

The world vanished in radiance.

When sight returned, silence reigned. The black castle was gone; nothing remained but a crater wreathed in golden fire and drifting ash.

Jue Bu stood beside me, his arms folded, a faintly smoking violet barrier shimmering around us. He gave me a sideways glance, smirking.

“You need more practice with your spells, Great Guard,” he said.

I laughed weakly, clutching my side. “Yeah… I’ll add that to my list.”

The ash drifted upward like snow, reminding me of New Willow in winter.