Immortal Paladin

New Willow being invaded was the last thing on my mind.

We had buried our movements beneath layers of misdirection with false routes, staggered logistics, and decoy formations. They were methods refined through blood and paranoia. Even the Heavenly Temple’s most infamous seers should have seen nothing but fog. And yet, here they were. Tens of thousands of ships. Perfect positioning. Perfect timing.

This wasn’t coincidence.

This was an ambush.

“Go,” I said sharply.

Ren Jingyi and Ding Cai did not hesitate. One heartbeat they were there, fists cupped, teeth clenched; the next they were gone, disappearing into the evacuation corridors I had prepared long ago and prayed never to use.

Ru Qiu stood before me.

He didn’t look like himself.

His eyes were empty. They were not vacant, but hollow, like something vital had been scooped out and never returned. I had never liked the man. Something about him had always scraped against my instincts, the same way a beast sensed a predator hiding in tall grass. Yet now, watching a single tear slide down his cheek, I felt something dangerously close to pity.

Hei Mao did not waste time as he used Divine Possession on me.

My vision sharpened as his will fused with mine. Since he had no physical body, there was no risk of sudden death or backlash, but the boost was limited. Fifty percent of his stats, no more. This body of mine, an early Eighth Realm fragment, was laughably weak compared to the true self.

But weak did not mean helpless.

Ru Qiu moved first.

A blazing black sword tore itself into existence in his hand, heat and malice twisting together as he rushed me with naked killing intent.

“Animal Path: King of the Wild.”

I opened myself to Hei Mao’s essence, drawing it in greedily. My blonde hair darkened, thickened, ears sharpening into feline points as a heavy tail lashed behind me. Power flooded my limbs, raw and feral. I looked ridiculous, a fat cat with murder in its eyes, but I had long since learned that dignity was optional in survival.

“Flash Step.”

I vanished past Ru Qiu’s charge and drove my heel into his side, War Smite detonating on contact. The impact sent him flying like a meteor. Ru Qiu’s sword flowed as the blade liquefied into a whip of black fire, snapping around my leg and yanking hard. The ground vanished beneath me.

Never had New Willow faced a crisis this severe, since the False Earth.

I shifted mid-fall, body elongating into a serpent and diving into the earth as Ru Qiu slammed down after me, dark flames exploding with each step. I burst back out, reshaping into the closest humanoid form Hei Mao’s essence allowed, cat-beast, and drove a Divine Smite elbow into Ru Qiu’s ribs, chained immediately into a knee empowered by War Smite.

He should have shattered.

Instead, his body dispersed into incorporeal black flame.

He passed through me, burning me in the process.

Chains erupted from his qi, cold and cruel, snapping around my arms and legs. The force wrenched my spine with a wet, nauseating crunch as Ru Qiu came down on me, both knees slamming into my back.

Pain flared white-hot.

“Divine Word: Life.”

Blessed Regeneration followed instantly as I dislocated my right arm without hesitation, slipping free just enough to clamp my hand around his throat.

“Monkey Grip.”

My tail whipped around his leg, anchoring him. With my free arm I drove a Divine Smite elbow into his shoulder while my tail pulsed with Shadow Smite, aiming to tear him apart limb by limb.

Then he surged.

Power spiked violently as a beam of black fire tore from his mouth. It was raw and unrestrained, a strike that would have erased half the city if it landed.

I kicked him away and acted in the same breath.

A Manasoul slipped into him with Divine Possession.

Divine Word: Rest.

Divine Zone.

The world seemed to freeze.

Ru Qiu hung in the air like a marionette with cut strings. His shattered limbs regenerated calmly, inexorably, while the severed pieces in my grasp dissolved into smoke and returned to him as if nothing had happened.

I stared up at him, breathing hard.

“What happened to you?” I demanded.

His lips moved.

But the voice that answered was not his.

“I come bearing a message,” he said flatly, eyes unfocused. “From my lord.”

Before I could respond, another presence made itself known.

A man stepped forward through distorted space, robes immaculate, posture relaxed. He carried a fan, snapping it open with an almost playful flick.

“The name’s Mo Yu,” introduced the man. “The people of New Willow need not resist,” he said mildly, voice amplified across the city without effort. “Holy Emperor Da Wei’s mercy embraces all.”

My stomach sank.

“They need only surrender the Da Clan,” Mo Yu continued, eyes glinting behind the fan, “and the traitorous disciples of Da Wei.”

He tilted his head, smile thin.

“Fail to comply, and the skyfleet will proceed with annihilation. Myriad Sword of Heavens will do the rest.”

Above us, the sea of swords trembled, humming as one.

Holy Emperor Da Wei?

Mercy?

Da Clan?

None of it made sense.

“What… is the meaning of this?” I asked, genuinely befuddled.

A calm, amused voice answered before anyone else could.

“An invasion, of course,” it said lightly. “Executed with the most optimal strategy to defeat you.”

I turned.

Standing atop a shattered rooftop was a woman I recognized far too well. Her posture was relaxed, hands folded behind her back, long hair stirring gently in the chaos-choked wind as if the world below was nothing more than scenery. Staring at me was a hetorochromatic eyes, blue and gold.

Hei Mao screamed inside me.

“Yuan Shun!” his voice howled through our shared consciousness. “Give her back! Return my sister’s body, you monster!”

Yuan Shun glanced down at me, then shifted her gaze to Ru Qiu, who still floated lifelessly within my Divine Zone. She sighed, almost disappointed.

“So this is the Heavenly Demon everyone feared,” she murmured. “Legends truly are exaggerated, if you cannot even put down an inferior fragment of Da Wei.”

Anger flared hot and sharp.

“Enough riddles,” I snapped. “What is your angle here, Yuan Shun?”

Before she could answer, space rippled.

Mo Yu reappeared high above the city, standing upon nothing, his fan snapping open as the countless swords behind him rang in unison. His voice rolled outward, magnified by cultivation and intent alike.

“I am Mo Yu, one of the Four Heavenly Kings,” he announced calmly. “By decree of His Holy Majesty, New Willow is to be terminated.”

A measured and deliberate pause followed.

“You are granted five minutes to evacuate.”

Gasps rippled through the city. I felt immediately the tremor in the faith bound to me, and the subtle weakening of belief as fear bled into the collective consciousness.

Mo Yu continued, tone sharpening just slightly.

“Should you fail to surrender the Da Clan and the traitorous disciples of Da Wei within that time, I promise you fates far worse than death.”

The sky seemed to press down.

I looked back at Yuan Shun. “Five minutes,” I said flatly. “Isn’t that too little?”

She shrugged, utterly unconcerned.

“It was never meant to give you a fighting chance,” she replied. “Only to induce panic.”

I clenched my jaw. “Who is behind this?”

She covered her mouth with one hand, though her eyes curved with unmistakable delight.

“How unfortunate,” she said softly. “To think my master managed to fool you… and the others.”

The others. She meant the Six Path souls. Of course she did. With everything we had done over the past two centuries, it would have been stranger if they hadn’t noticed the pattern.

“Who is this master of yours?” I demanded. “If he’s so great, why doesn’t he face me himself?”

Yuan Shun scoffed, a quiet laugh slipping through her fingers.

“Oh, he will confront you,” she said. “Just not this fragment.”

That answer told me enough. I forced my mind away from anger and humiliation and toward what mattered. This was war. Panic was a weapon, and I refused to let it be turned fully against us. So, I turned to my mind and began to unravel the situation for what it was…

Why New Willow?

If the enemy wanted logistics, destroying this city made no sense. The Heavenly Temple despised waste. They would have seized the flying island, repurposed its routes, and folded it neatly into their own supply lines.

So logistics were not the objective.

My gaze drifted across the city from the shrines, the banners, and the faint glow of belief woven invisibly through stone and soil alike.

So… Faith?

New Willow was the nucleus of the Great Guard’s religious system. The anchor point through which Da Wei drew belief, the wellspring that fed his Divine Spark. If New Willow fell, faith would fracture. And if faith fractured…? I dared not imagine the consequences.

I exhaled slowly.

So that was their goal.

Still… There was something bothering me…

How did they know? Did they torture the Ghost Soul and the Asura Soul for information? I could not imagine either of them breaking, not even under the cruelest methods the Heavenly Temple possessed. Something was missing from my understanding, a hidden variable I had yet to grasp.

I kept my gaze on Yuan Shun and spoke carefully. “Why are you talking to me like this? We are enemies. You could have attacked already.”

Yuan Shun smiled faintly, her posture relaxed, as if the battlefield did not exist. “Because this is likely the only chance I will ever have to speak with you like this,” she said calmly. “Your Ghost fragment and Asura fragment are gone. Heaven, Hell, and Human will follow soon enough.”

My heart sank, but my voice remained steady. “What do you mean by that?”

Her smile widened, and there was a trace of pity in her mismatched eyes. “The Holy Empire is being invaded as we speak. My master will personally ensure your story ends in a very sad and very final way.”

I said nothing. While she spoke, I finished linking the shrine’s formation to my Divine Zone, threading my power through the lattice with practiced precision. The flow settled, obedient and ready.

Yuan Shun clicked her tongue softly. “You are far too easy to read,” she said. “Did you truly think I would not notice what you were doing?”

She vanished mid-sentence. Space rippled, and when she reappeared, Ru Qiu was already in her grasp, far outside the range of my Divine Zone.

“You are underestimating me,” I replied.

Hei Mao moved with me as one. I stepped into shadow, following Yuan Shun in an instant.

From within my consciousness, Hei Mao spoke with solemn authority. “Immortal Art. Nether Gate Summoning Chant.”

A torii gate burned into our vision, its image reflected directly within our pupils. Ru Qiu stirred, his eyes fluttering open just as I raised my hand.

“Divine Word,” I said quietly. “Rest.”

Ru Qiu froze once more. I did not stop there. I turned the same command toward Yuan Shun.

She laughed, bright and sharp. “I foresaw that.”

Golden light tore open space itself as she summoned Judgment Severance. A cross-shaped rift bloomed before her, devouring power and law alike.

Before it could fully stabilize, a frail figure appeared behind her.

“Have you seen this, bitch?” Gu Jie said hoarsely.

Wen Yuhan stood beside her, silent and unmoving.

Misfortune erupted like a silent scream. It poured from Gu Jie in a suffocating wave, twisting causality itself. The golden rift shuddered, its edges warping, and Judgment Severance failed to fully manifest.

I seized the moment.

I dragged my connection to the land and spoke through gritted teeth, forcing two distant formations to exchange places. The shrine’s core snapped back into alignment with me.

“Divine Zone,” I said. “Warp Array. Zealot’s Stride.”

The Manasouls I had buried deep within the ground ignited in sequence.

“Heavenly Punishment.”

The land screamed as a massive gouge tore free, space folding violently as the warped terrain vanished. The moment they reached there destination, this piece of land would explode with Heavenly Punishment, hopefully killing them enough in the process without a chance of making any meaningful damage to this invasion.

Gu Jie leaped clear at the last moment. I followed immediately.

I reached her just as her strength gave out. She looked impossibly old, her body reduced to little more than borrowed time.

She smiled weakly at me. “Did I do great, Father?”

“You did more than enough,” I said, catching her as she collapsed.

Her eyes closed, and her breathing grew faint. I held her carefully and placed her into Wen Yuhan’s arms.

“I know you can hear me,” I said softly. “There must have been a reason you never wanted me to see her memories.”

I met Wen Yuhan’s closed eyes and spoke with quiet resolve. “Take care of my daughter.”

I imbued a Manasoul into both of them and formed the final seal.

“Egress.”

They vanished, sent safely back to the Holy Empire.

Above us, the allotted time ended.

The man in the sky raised his fan, and with a single motion, he brought it down. The sword-filled heavens descended, and the bombardment began.

A verdant barrier erupted around New Willow, layers of green light weaving together like living bark. Above the island, a mirage of Wu Chen manifested, her expression solemn as she spread her arms wide. Eleventh Realm power poured out of her, roots of qi sinking into the barrier as she intercepted the falling swords.

High in the sky, the man raised his fan and spoke without urgency. “Mo Yu. Remember this name.” Golden sage marks bloomed across his body as his aura expanded. “Six Path Unity. Immortal Sage.”

The pressure deepened. The swords descending from the heavens did not slow. They multiplied, accelerated, and began to grind against Wu Chen’s barrier with increasing ferocity.

I clenched my teeth. “She cannot hold forever.”

I turned inward and seized control of the city’s grand formation once more. Barriers rose in overlapping layers, reinforced by countless streams of qi. From every district, every tower, and every street node, cultivators poured their strength into the array. Even the weakest contributed what little they could.

Mo Yu’s voice carried clearly through the storm. “Stubborn to the end.”

I ignored him and looked up. The eclipse still hung in the sky.

Hei Mao’s earlier warning echoed in my mind. Ru Qiu had grown far stronger after recovering his memories. I had believed I sent him far enough away. I was wrong.

The eclipse rippled. Black wings unfurled, and a three-legged crow tore itself free from the darkness. Mid-descent, the crow twisted and reshaped, becoming Ru Qiu once more.

“So you survived,” I said calmly in disbelief.

Ru Qiu raised one hand. Dark, fiery qi gathered, compressing violently. The sphere shrank, its color bleaching from black to blinding white until it was no larger than a clenched fist.

Our eyes met across the battlefield.

“That is for me,” I muttered. I moved, thoughts of getting hit by that here, scaring the shit out of me. It would tear the entire city in the middle, and I couldn’t have that. “Fine, let me tank it, you stupid Heavenly Demon…”

Divine Speed surged through my veins. Flash Step folded space beneath my feet. Zealot’s Stride tore me sideways with brutal force.

The beam struck with unerring accuraccy. My torso was pierced clean through. The shockwave detonated behind me, vaporizing a mountain in the distance.

Darkness took me.

“Divine Word,” I whispered into the void. “Raise.”

Life snapped back into place. I gasped as my body reformed, pain still screaming through my nerves.

I staggered upright, breathing hard. “This is bad.”

Ru Qiu alone was a calamity. Mo Yu was still raining swords. Wu Chen was straining. The formations groaned under the pressure.

Then the wind shifted.

An overwhelming voice thundered from the direction of the desert. “WHO DARES SULLY THE NAME OF THE HOLY EMPEROR?” Laughter followed, strange and unrestrained. “Ka ka ka ka ka ka ka ka.”

The sky inverted.

“Immortal Art,” the voice declared gleefully. “Reversal of Heaven and Earth.”

Day collapsed into night. Stars burned into existence where the sun had been moments before. A familiar figure stepped out of the warped horizon, robes fluttering, grin wide and unhinged. 

It was Jue Bu.

He spread his arms as if welcoming the chaos. “Honestly, you people are getting bold.”

Mo Yu stared at him, disbelief flickering across his composed face. “Who are you?”

Jue Bu tilted his head and laughed. “Is it not obvious?”

He tapped his chest with a thumb. “I am Da Wei.”

“Lies,” Yuan Shun called out.

She reappeared a heartbeat later, qi flaring unevenly around her as she forced herself back into the battlefield. She remained suspended in the air, breathing hard, her gaze locked onto Jue Bu with naked hostility.

“You dare claim that name,” she said coldly. “You are not Da Wei. You are the punished existence, cast into the Hollowed World to be broken again and again.”

Jue Bu tilted his head, grin unchanging. “That is one way to put it.”

Their exchange never reached the ears of New Willow’s civilians. Below us, Bai Zemin and Wu Chen had already acted, gentle formations spreading like mist as the people were guided into deep sleep. As for the soldiers still at their posts, their faith did not waver. It was not blind belief, but something intimate and instinctive, a certainty that resonated deep within them.

I felt it clearly.

The enemy’s words rang hollow. Claims that Da Wei wished for New Willow’s destruction did nothing but scrape uselessly against the foundation we had built. In the early years, drawing faith had been difficult for the Six Path souls. Two centuries later, we no longer borrowed the name.

We were Da Wei.

I drew deeper, letting the faith pour into me. The Divine Spark within my soul burned brighter, steadier.

High above, a massive formation ignited. Ru Qiu stood at its center, one hand raised, gripping a colossal golden sigil that radiated oppressive authority.

Mo Yu spoke calmly. “You should surrender. You are isolated, outnumbered, and surrounded.”

Jue Bu laughed, eyes glinting. “You do not know that.”

Wu Chen rose into the sky beside me, her blonde hair flowing, long ears visible as her bloodline stirred. A spear formed in her grasp, her expression sharp and resolute.

She looked at me and asked plainly, “How do you want them dead?”

Before Ru Qiu could release the formation, I moved.

I appeared above them and spoke with quiet force. “Judgment Severance.”

Three golden rifts tore open in the sky, intersecting points swallowing space, light, and power alike. Quintessence surged violently through my veins, and irritation flickered in my mind as I felt the strain building.

Mo Yu remained composed. “It does not matter. Numbers still favor us. Our army will crush your city and eliminate you.” He waved his fan. “Skyfleet, commence primary bombardment. Secondary targets are the three hostile entities.”

Jue Bu threw his head back and laughed. “You brought an army?” He spread his arms wide. “So did I.”

Space behind the enemy fleet fractured as dozens of warp bursts tore open reality. Sleek vessels poured through, banners snapping in the void wind. At their center flew the sigil of the Promised Dunes.

I recognized her instantly.

Standing at the bow of the lead ship, Radiant Queen Liu Yana raised her hand, her voice amplified across the battlefield.

“Federation forces have arrived,” she declared. “We stand in defense of our allies.”

Beside her, Falconeer Han Lun drew his bow, eyes cold and unwavering.

“We answer the Holy Empire’s call,” he said. “Invaders of the Heavenly Temple, withdraw or be destroyed.”

Mo Yu ground his teeth, frustration finally cracking through his cultivated composure. Every declaration he had made had been overturned, every certainty stripped bare in front of allies and enemies alike.

The Federation’s soaring vessels were fewer than the Heavenly Temple’s skyfleet, but they were enough. Enough to stabilize the front, enough to tip the balance, and enough to give us breathing room to push forward instead of collapsing inward.

“You are celebrating too early,” Yuan Shun said calmly.

Her voice carried no panic, only certainty.

I felt it then, a silent tug at the threads of faith. My gaze snapped back toward New Willow.

Eleven presences descended from above the clouds, their auras crashing down like falling stars. Each of them radiated the pressure of the Tenth Realm.

I clenched my fist, forcing myself not to move.

Three stood before me. Mo Yu, Yuan Shun, and Ru Qiu. On my side stood three as well. Myself, Jue Bu, and Wu Chen.

Yuan Shun smiled faintly. “The Children,” she said. “My finest work.” Her eyes gleamed with pride. “Raised to the Tenth Realm in record time. Their lives shortened in exchange, but what is lifespan compared to purpose?”

Behind them, the clouds parted.

A massive flying vessel revealed itself, its hull carved with sacred sigils. From its belly poured squads of winged cultivators, their forms luminous and cold, halos and qi-wings blazing as they flooded the sky like a descending host.

I looked back at Yuan Shun. “You should not underestimate my disciples, my Guardians, or the warriors of New Willow.”

Thunder roared from the fortifications as rifles barked and artillery cannons boomed in unison. Streams of qi-infused rounds tore through the sky, detonating among the descending host. The recoil shook the floating island itself.

New Willow’s firearms had come far. Rarer metals, refined formations, and Fatty Ke Zhen’s relentless obsession with perfection had shaped them into weapons worthy of this world. Gunpowder was a relic now. Qi ignition had replaced it entirely.

Even a Third Realm cultivator could be lethal with one of these weapons. Our army’s standard was Fifth Realm. Ammunition was precious, discipline absolute.

Above the barriers, the Guardians surged forward.

They met the angelic cultivators head-on, steel, qi, and blood colliding in midair. Blades rang, spells detonated, and screams echoed through the clouds.

“My turn,” Ren Jingyi said.

She roared as her body expanded and twisted, scales bursting forth as she transformed into a full dragon. Her draconic presence shook the battlefield, Dragon Might crushing down as she tore into the enemy ranks.

Ding Cai stayed close to her side, daggers flashing as she darted through openings, striking with precision and retreating before retaliation could land.

The Children worried me, but…

“Guardians, with me,” Ding Shan bellowed.

My right hand man detonated his Ninth Realm cultivation, his double shields slamming together as he charged. Half of the Children turned to face him, met by the elite of the Guardians. The Seven Heavenly Stars, the Nine Great Warriors, and the Thirteen Peaks formed a brutal spearhead behind him.

Within the city proper, Bai Zemin moved.

She did not flee. She did not hide.

Whenever a Child pierced through the outer defense, she was there, formations igniting beneath her feet. On her home ground, she fought like a storm given form, forcing them back again and again, buying time with blood and will.

The mystical willow trembled behind her, its presence stirring.

I exhaled slowly and looked back at Yuan Shun.

“Is that all you brought?” I asked. “Or do you have more?”

Hei Mao’s voice snapped inside me, sharp with alarm. “Do not say things like that. The Ghost Soul said something similar once. You ought to know how that ended.”

I wanted to slap my own mouth, but the words had already left it.

Yuan Shun let out a slow sigh, her gaze drifting across the battlefield as if tallying losses that did not exist yet. “I truly find it difficult to believe this,” she said softly. “Every preparation I made met resistance. Every contingency found an answer. For a moment, even I wondered if I had miscalculated.”

Her eyes returned to me, calm and unwavering. “Unfortunately for you, I foresaw this as well.”

She snapped her fingers and agony exploded inside my body.

Tribulation lightning surged through my veins, savage and merciless, frying me from within. I screamed as the force tore through Hei Mao’s Divine Possession, ripping him out of me like a parasite torn from flesh.

“What the fuck?” I roared.

The pain was horribly familiar.

It was the same sensation as that day under the heavens, when lightning judged my existence and nearly erased me. My cultivation shuddered. My strength collapsed inward. The excess flesh I carried melted away like wax under fire, leaving me weak, sluggish, and exposed.

Jue Bu shouted in disbelief, his voice cracking. “What kind of witchcraft is this?”

Wu Chen rushed toward me, her spear discarded, tears streaming down her face. “Da Wei,” she cried. “Da Wei, look at me.”

I could hear her, but I could not see her.

The world faded.

Ghost Soul stood before me, his expression twisted into a bitter smile. Asura Soul was beside him, arms crossed, irritation plain on his face.

“You got it bad this time,” Ghost Soul said quietly.

Asura Soul clicked his tongue. “The signs were there. You noticed them. You just tried too hard to dismantle the trap instead of stepping away from it. Is it that hard to make another clone body?”

My thoughts stuttered. “What are you talking about?”

They did not answer.

My vision lurched, tearing away from my body.

I found myself watching from above, from behind, and from somewhere that was not me. Below stood a man who shared my face, my features, my outline. Yet everything about him felt wrong.

He stood atop Mount Qingshi, calm and composed.

In his hand was the Animal Soul.

My soul.

He pinched it between his fingers, studying it with idle curiosity, then lifted his gaze and smiled directly at me.

“Hey,” he said lightly. “Me.”

Horror flooded through me as I tried to scream, but no sound came.

He opened his mouth and swallowed the Animal Soul whole.

Darkness took me.