Immortal Paladin

The last streaks of sunlight broke through the clouds as the Iron Ox Caravan finally crossed the final stretch of sky. Below us stretched the Ironleaf Frontier, a vast sprawl of fortified settlements nestled at the foot of jagged mountains, their peaks capped with frost, and their valleys crawling with mist. For two long months, we had flown through danger, yet all five of our vessels still cut through the air intact, battered but unbroken.

I leaned on the railing, watching as the enormous city of iron and wood came into view. “We made it,” I murmured, appreciating the sights before me. “Now, this is a real adventure, isn’t it? Not being cooped up in the office.”

The journey’s latter half had been its own sort of nightmare. From the Boar Pirates that attacked mid-flight to the endless waves of demonic beasts and sky bandits, there hadn’t been a single uneventful week. Fortunately, Jin Xiuying proved his worth time and time again. When things got bad, he never hesitated to leap into battle himself, Spirit Mystery realm aura blazing like a furnace. His talismans were endless, from flaming seals that turned the sky into fire, thunder strips that scattered flocks of aerial beasts, and barrier charms that could stop an entire rain of arrows.

This world really was unforgiving, reminding me how tough this world was.

“My sense of danger really dulled after fighting world-ending threats too many times,” I muttered, shaking my head with a faint grin. “Guess I needed that wake-up call.”

When we finally descended through the veil of mountain fog and hovered above the open landing grounds of Ironleaf, cheers erupted across all five ships. Jin Xiuying stood proudly at the bow, the wind flapping his cloak behind him as he raised his hand.

“We’ve arrived at the Ironleaf Frontier!” he shouted, his voice carrying over the roar of the crowd. “All ships, prepare for descent! You’ve all done splendidly!”

We descended slowly. The moment the ships docked, the crew began unloading crates, beasts, and materials. The scent of iron and spirit herbs filled the air. I could already see the outline of the Adventurer’s Guild in the distance, marked by the familiar insignia.

Jin Xiuying faced us again. “You can all collect your pay at the local guild branch,” he announced. “However, I’ll be giving a bonus to several of you who’ve gone above and beyond.”

He called a few names from those who led small teams, patched up the wounded, and saved supplies during the pirate raid. Then, I heard mine.

“Wei Da, for killing the most pirates in your realm and slaying the smaller beasts along the way, you’ve earned yourself an extra pouch of spirit stones.”

A few heads turned toward me, some nodding in approval, others whispering in disbelief. I walked up, received the pouch, and gave a short bow.

The past two months had been exhausting but fruitful. My Martial Tempering had reached the Eighth Star. Among our copper-rank adventurers, that kind of progress was apparently unheard of. A few of them even started calling me a “rising star.” I didn’t bother correcting them.

If only they knew that I was just a “smurf” account, walking around in a nerfed body of all things! Still, luck was never consistent. Lately, it felt like the heavens had been tossing me between fortune and disaster like a dice roll.

As the crew disembarked, a group of familiar faces approached. They were fellow copper ranks I had sparred and fought alongside.

“Brother Wei!” one of them called out, grinning ear to ear. “You’re not getting away without a drink tonight! The taverns in Ironleaf are famous!”

“Yeah,” another added, slapping my back, “we owe you one for those pirates. Come on, we’ll drink till we drop!”

Even Lin Jing, who had once glared at me like I stole his family heirloom, approached with a smirk. “Seems you’ve got some skill after all,” he said, crossing his arms. “Not bad for a Martial Tempering cultivator with bad roots.”

“Coming from the guy who almost took my head off, I’ll take that as a compliment,” I replied with a grin. “Please tell your senior brother, I’d like to treat him with a drink as an apology…”

He chuckled, surprisingly genuine this time. “Listen, Wei Da… once you reach the Second Realm, make sure you refine your spiritual roots. With the right method, you can change them. Don’t waste your foundation just because you started low.”

I blinked, caught off guard by the advice. “You’re telling me that after trying to bash my skull in?”

Lin Jing smirked faintly. “Maybe I realized you’re worth the trouble.”

It turned out his senior brother, the one I humiliated back at the Adventurer’s Guild, was more than just a friend. They shared the same master, a humble martial artist who never reached enlightenment but instilled in them the spirit of perseverance. Lin Jing had joined this caravan to broaden his horizons with his brother, but fate… ahem, or my foot… cut that short.

“I get it,” I said quietly. “You were just standing up for your brother.”

He shrugged. “Don’t think too much about it.”

“How about that drink, then?” I offered. “My treat.”

He raised a brow, already stepping away toward the exit ramp. “Maybe next time. You’re still too weak for my company. Raise your realm first, then I’ll consider it. As for the drink you are offering my senior brother, I will tell him when I see him.”

“Fair enough, Senior Lin.”

I headed for the Ironleaf Guild and completed my business. I signed off the last parchment at the Ironleaf Guild counter, the smell of polished wood and spirit ink lingering faintly in the air. The guild attendant took my submission with a polite bow, stamping the completion seal onto my quest document.

“Escort contract for the Iron Ox Caravan, verified and complete,” she said, her tone efficient but warm. “Congratulations, Adventurer Wei Da. Your pay will be transferred immediately to your account. Or do you wish to withdraw them now?”

“It’s fine,” I gave a small nod, sliding the parchment back. “Much appreciated.”

“Brother Wei!” called a familiar voice. It was one of the copper-rank adventurers from my ship, cheeks flushed from early drinking. “You’re not escaping this time! We’re celebrating surviving those damn pirates!”

“Yeah!” another shouted, clapping me on the shoulder. “You’ve been too serious, Wei! Come on, one night of heavy drinking won’t kill you!”

I chuckled, helpless against their enthusiasm. “Alright, alright. Just a few drinks.”

The tavern they picked was one of those lively Ironleaf staples with rough wooden tables, lanterns hanging from rafters, and a bard singing about some hero who probably died horribly in the next verse.

While my clone was laughing and toasting under the smell of roasted meat and cheap ale, my true self sat elsewhere.

Far away.

Far above.

My main body drifted under a starlit expanse in the Evernight Continent, the wind carrying desert sand that shimmered faintly under moonlight. The sky stretched endlessly overhead, scattered with violet stars. Below me, half-buried in dunes, stood a massive crystalline structure. It was the White Clan’s Mystic Grounds, their legendary Crystal Palace.

I had come because of a strange letter, sealed with white wax and written in a hand I did not recognize. It had been delivered by no messenger, and no formation had marked its arrival. It simply appeared before me on my desk, bearing only one sentence: “The truth of the White Clan awaits beneath the sands, with anticipation, come to the Crystal Palace.”

I hovered in the cold night air, my robes fluttering slightly. “Well,” I said to no one in particular, “that’s not suspicious at all.”

The palace below gleamed faintly, reflecting starlight. It looked like pure glass from above, smooth and seamless, yet Divine Sense revealed dense arrays covering its entire structure. It was no ordinary place.

I descended, feet landing softly on the glass-like platform that led straight into an open corridor. Passing through the entrance, the world changed. The inside was not crystalline at all, but dense and earthen gray, compressed into something impossibly heavy.

I narrowed my eyes. “So this is the famed mystic grounds of the White Clan?”

The walls were carved with runes and murals filled with stories of immortals, angels, and warriors unlike any I’d ever seen. But none of them matched the White Clan’s history. Their language wasn’t even from this world.

The moment I gazed longer, something inside me stirred.

My Asura Soul thrummed with unease, resonating faintly with the symbols. The air itself trembled as if whispering to it.

“Asura script,” I murmured. “Why would that be here?”

This so-called mystic ground lacked any sacred feeling. No heightened qi, no divine resonance, and no sign of enlightenment. I spread my Divine Sense in all directions and found only emptiness, until I felt the faint ripple of concealment right behind me.

My hand shot out before thought could catch up.

In an instant, I was gripping a woman by the throat, my fingers wreathed in divine energy. Her feet dangled above the ground, silver hair scattering like dust.

Her aura was familiar. White Clan. Eighth Realm.

“Why did you do that?” I asked coldly as I grabbed her by the throat. “You used a concealment technique advanced enough to evade even my senses. That’s not something to take lightly. So tell me, are you the one who called me here?”

She gasped, her hands trembling as she clawed weakly at my wrist. “A-Apologies, Your Holy Majesty… I-I meant no harm—”

“Then why,” I interrupted, tightening my grip slightly, “did you dare to test me?”

Her voice broke between breaths. “I… I had to confirm! H-How could I know it was truly His Holy Majesty Da Wei? There are impostors… those who—”

I stared at her, unamused. “That’s strange. You don’t know the face of your own emperor?”

I examined her qi. It was pure. “And you still possess your cultivation. Eighth Realm, no less. Now that’s even stranger.”

Her eyes widened.

I let my divine pressure weigh on the chamber like thunder. “Tell me, woman… did I not decree that the Seven Imperial Households be stripped of cultivation? Did I not ban them from touching the path for five generations?”

She trembled, lips quivering.

“And yet,” I continued, voice low and deliberate, “here you are, cultivating freely. Tell me, then. Should I amend my decree? Eight generations? Thirteen? Or perhaps…” I paused, tilting my head slightly. “…I should simply erase your clan altogether.”

Her composure broke. Tears welled in her eyes, spilling freely as she choked out a cry. “P-Please! Your Holy Majesty! Mercy! I… I only followed the order of my superior… We meant no disrespect! I… I’m the last of the White Clan, whose cultivation still remains!”

I exhaled through my nose, loosening my grip and letting her go. “You White Clan people… still too wrapped in your pride.”

She dropped to her knees, coughing as she struggled to breathe. I looked down at her for a moment longer, then sighed.

“Fine. I won’t kill you.” I folded my arms, my tone softening but not kind. “But you’ll answer truthfully. Don’t twist your words. And do not respond with another question.”

The woman pressed her forehead to the ground, trembling. “Y-Yes, Your Holy Majesty… I understand… I’ll obey…”

I regarded her for a while before speaking. “Your name?”

Her voice trembled as she answered, “B-Bai Zemin, Your Holy Majesty.”

“Bai Zemin…” I repeated softly, studying the ripples of her qi through my Divine Sense. Her cultivation was stable despite her fear, her will strong. “And your status in the White Clan?”

“I… was the wife of the late Patriarch, Bai Rong.”

My brow twitched. “Late Patriarch?”

She nodded without raising her head. “He… perished during the war, or so I was told. F-Forgive me, Your Holy Majesty. When your armies and the Riverfall Dragons descended upon the White Clan’s sacred ground, I was panicked and everything happened too f-fast… It wasn’t my intention to flee and h-hide my cultivation.”

“You have to do better than that if you want to be spared,” I frowned slightly. “Tell me, Lady Bai Zemin, why did you sneak up on me? You hid from even my perception. That takes considerable power, especially for your realm.”

Her body shook as she spoke, her tone brittle with nerves. “I swear to the heavens, it was never my intention to sneak upon Your Majesty! I would never dare!”

I extended my Divine Sense again; her heartbeat spiked, but there was no falsehood. Odd. She was telling the truth.

“So,” I muttered, “you accidentally hid from me?”

Her voice cracked. “It was not by my will, but by the Tree’s…”

My gaze sharpened. “The Tree?”

“The Immortal Divine Tree,” she said, her tone reverent and afraid all at once. “It was… It was the Tree that asked me to beseech Your Majesty. That is why I sent the letter. It—” she swallowed hard, “—it was the one who wrote it through me.”

I stayed silent, letting her speak.

Her words began to flow faster, like a dam finally breaking. “The Immortal Divine Tree blessed me with its protection. I was… chosen as its priestess after the fall of my clan. The Tree hid me from all sight, even immortal senses, so long as I stayed within the bounds of its domain. It wasn’t to spy on Your Majesty… it was to hide me.”

My arms folded across my chest. “Hide you from what?”

Her lips quivered, tears gathering in her eyes. “From you, Your Majesty. From your soldiers. From the Riverfall Dragons who burned our temples and took my kin away. The Tree drew strength from our faith and our cultivation. The Tree could feel its life force fading when our clan was stripped of power. It feared annihilation. It… it was terrified of what fate awaited it.”

Her words struck faintly against the chamber walls like echoes of guilt.

I said nothing, though my mind worked rapidly. An Immortal Divine Tree that could bestow protection strong enough to escape my Divine Sense? That wasn’t just a relic. It was something alive, probably intelligent. Perhaps even at the level of an Ascended Soul.

“Interesting,” I murmured, looking at her trembling form. “So, this Immortal Divine Tree used you as its mouthpiece?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. It said… it only wished to live. It made me its priestess… and asked me to call for you. To plead for mercy.”

A faint smirk curved my lips. “Then it’s afraid.”

She didn’t answer.

I sighed. “Very well, Lady Bai. Rise. I wish to meet this Immortal Divine Tree of yours. Lead me to it.”

She hesitated, her body stiff with uncertainty. “A-Are you certain, Your Majesty? The Tree has been weakened since the day of the purges. It—”

“Lead the way,” I said firmly.

“Yes… Your Majesty.”

I didn’t let my guard down as she guided me deeper into the labyrinthine halls of the mystic grounds. The further we went, the more the crystal walls began to fade into dull stone. Strange whispers fluttered through the air, the sound of wind or voices… I couldn’t tell. My Divine Sense brushed against an aura unlike anything I’d felt before: old, boundless, and faintly sorrowful.

When we finally stepped into an open chamber, I saw it.

A ruined garden spread before us. Once-lush soil was now cracked and pale. At its center stood a single massive tree, its bark gray and lifeless, its leaves long fallen to dust. The air carried the faintest trace of sacred energy, so thin it could barely be felt.

“That,” Bai Zemin whispered, her voice breaking, “is the Immortal Divine Tree.”

I stared at the rotting trunk. “Immortal, you say?”

Her lips trembled. “It was once. The faith of our clan nourished it for centuries. But since the fall of immortals a thousand years ago… its roots have withered. Its life fades.”

I narrowed my eyes, sensing the faintest spark within the hollow bark. There was a faint consciousness within. It wasn’t dead yet.

“So that’s what this is about,” I muttered. “It called me here… because it wants me to save it.”

Bai Zemin sank to her knees again, bowing until her forehead touched the earth. “The Immortal Divine Tree wishes to offer a pact with Your Majesty. If you would spare it—”

I cut her off.

“No.”

Her head jerked up, eyes wide.

“I don’t make pacts with things that caused a civil war,” I said, turning away from the dying tree. “I must say, this tree isn’t particularly smart…”

Through my Divine Sense, I probed deeper, and what I found sent a chill down my spine. Thousands of faint echoes pulsed within its trunk, countless remnants of life twisted into nourishment. They screamed softly, like whispers buried beneath centuries of soil.

“Divine, huh?” I murmured, narrowing my eyes. “No. You’re not divine. You’re a demonic tree.”

The irony wasn’t lost on me. A being worshiped as sacred, thriving on sacrifice and devotion, yet feeding on the flesh and spirit of those who prayed to it. Still, what unsettled me more was that my Asura Soul pulsed with warmth toward it, resonating like an old friend calling from the grave.

“Why are you reacting like this?” I muttered. The Asura Soul within me hummed insistently, pulling my attention toward the dying tree as though begging me to understand. Fine. “Let’s see what you’re hiding then.”

I raised my hand and invoked Divine Possession, letting the Asura Soul envelop my consciousness. The world rippled, shattered, and then reformed.

…

..

.

I found myself standing in a vast, alien forest beneath a sky unlike any I’d seen before. The stars were wrong, larger, crimson, and spiraling across the horizon like wounds in the firmament. The qi here was violent, and the very air thick with malice and heat. Towering trees loomed like mountains, their roots twisting like serpents.

At my feet, a small sapling struggled to stand straight, its fragile branches trembling against the wind. I could feel its fear. Around it, the forest lived and killed in equal measure. Massive trees uprooted weaker ones, devouring their essence. Beasts the size of mountains fought with claws that cracked the earth and roars that shattered clouds.

Then came the two Asuras.

One, a monstrous being draped in a lion’s mane, radiating golden flames that scorched the earth. The other wielded a hammer wreathed in thunder, his laughter booming like the end of days. Their clash split the skies. The shockwave uprooted the massive tree beside the sapling, flinging soil and roots into the air.

The sapling quivered with fear and desperation. Yet, it clung to life.

Time passed. I couldn’t tell how long exactly. The battles never stopped, and the world itself seemed at war with its own heart. Amid the chaos, a figure appeared. He was a calm Asura clad in emerald robes, wearing a crown of horned branches upon his head. He knelt before the tiny sapling, pouring water over its roots, whispering softly as though speaking to a child.

“Grow well, little one,” the man said with a smile. “You are my little mistletoe.”

He returned day after day, tending to it, nurturing it in a place where kindness had no place. Until one day, he didn’t come.

Darkness swallowed the world.

The forest screamed as a black veil devoured the land. I recognized it instantly as the Hollowed World, devouring everything in its path. The sapling was uprooted, its home erased. When it awoke again, it stood in a new, barren land… It was our world, the Hollowed World.

Nutrients were scarce. Life was sparse. The little mistletoe struggled for centuries, its roots drinking only dust and despair. Until one day, it found a human, a desperate soul it blessed out of instinct. That human gained strength, a hint of Asura blood, and in gratitude, founded a clan around the tree.

Sacrifices began.

Faith turned to fanaticism.

The Immortal Divine Tree grew, not from sunlight, but from blood.

…

..

.

I gasped as the memory faded. My Asura Soul retreated into my being, seemingly nourished. I exhaled deeply. “So that’s how it happened…”

The Tree wasn’t evil by nature. It was just desperate. Once a sapling raised by an Asura, it had been cast into a world too barren to sustain it. To live, it fed on what it could from faith, flesh, and soul. Survival had turned it monstrous.

Still, that didn’t mean I could let it live.

I lifted my hand to the heavens. “Heavenly Punishment.”

The air split with a thunderous crack. The skies darkened as clouds swirled into a vortex of gold and black. A colossal sword of divine light descended, striking the withered tree at its core.

The impact blinded the world for a heartbeat. The explosion that followed shook the ground. Flames of pure divinity devoured the trunk, cleansing the corruption that clung to its roots. Bai Zemin screamed for it to stop, her voice breaking through the roar of the burning air.

When the light faded, only ash remained.

Bai Zemin fell to her knees, weeping. “Your Majesty… why? It only wished to live…”

“This was for the better,” I said quietly. “What you worshiped wasn’t divine. Instead, it was cursed. Its roots were too deep in blood to be saved.”

In the center of the crater, something glimmered. A branch, unburnt, floated amid the ashes. It pulsed faintly with pure, untainted spiritual qi. It was oddly serene despite the destruction around it. I reached for it.

It was surprisingly light in my hand, its shape somewhere between a sword and a spear, sleek yet balanced. My Divine Sense flared instinctively, whispering to me of its power.

“At least as good as Soulsunderer,” I mused, twirling it. “Now this is interesting.”

Bai Zemin’s sobs grew softer as she whispered, “Your Majesty… what will happen to me? To my clan? We have scattered across the Empire… some fled to other lands…”

I looked at her, calm but firm. “They won’t be leaving the Empire anytime soon. I made sure of that. They have to pay back the Empire for their crimes with their labor. That’s a punishment I believe is far kinder than whatever Nongmin would’ve otherwise imposed.”

“M-My clan, they did nothing wrong. It was all Bai Rong’s ambition,” Her head snapped up, eyes wide with fear. “P-Please… spare us… Spare me…”

I studied her for a long moment, then sighed. “I’ll let you keep your cultivation.”

Her lips parted in disbelief. “Y-You will?”

“Yes,” I said, glancing at the branch in my hand, its light reflecting in my eyes. “But I have a job for you.”

She straightened, trembling. “A job, Your Majesty?”

“Yes,” I smirked faintly. “I’m in need of a gardener.”

Her confusion deepened as I raised the glowing branch slightly, its blade-like edge catching the light. “Mistletoe, huh? I have a feeling I should know what it’s referring to, but I can’t remember… I wonder why…”