Immortal Paladin

“I guess it’s time,” I remarked as I held the wheel of the Mighty Duck steady.

Dave and Joan stood at the center of the deck. Beneath their feet was an intricate magic circle Joan had drawn with Alice’s assistance, layered with planar coordinates, anchor sigils, and stabilizing runes to prevent catastrophic misalignment. Even I could appreciate the craftsmanship.

Joan looked at all of us before speaking.

“I apologize for all the trouble I’ve caused,” she said softly. “It has been a very long time since we first set out to look for you. We found more than we ever expected. Entire worlds. Civilizations so different from ours that they should not make sense, and yet they exist. I am frightened by many of the things I have learned, but I am also emboldened knowing I have allies waiting for me.”

Her gaze lingered on me.

“When we see each other again, I hope it is after Losten has been saved. Of course, I doubt my and Dave’s strength would be enough, so we will continue relying on you. I hope the day comes when our two worlds can finally unite.”

Dave stepped forward and bowed slightly. “My lord, I am grateful for your faith in us.”

I smiled at him. “Of course.”

Part of me wanted to go with them immediately. Losten was the origin of so many of our current mysteries, and I hated splitting our forces. However, I had to think bigger. While they laid the groundwork in Losten, we would establish our foothold in the underworld. If we wanted a stable path between realms, both sides had to be prepared.

I could no longer run from my destiny. If I wanted even a fragment of control over it, I had to act proactively rather than reactively.

Alice hugged Joan first, then Dave. “Good luck,” she said quietly.

Gu Jie, still wearing the dunce cap I had placed on her head earlier, raised a small hand. “Good luck.”

I felt destiny shift.

She subtly infused both of them with a thread of fortune, weaving probability in their favor. Even in her current realm, her Immortal Art remained absurd.

From the crow’s nest, Ru Qiu called out, “We’re close. I’m seeing signs of civilization from here.”

Joan took a steady breath and activated the planar spell. The magic circle flared to life, light enveloping both her and Dave. Space folded inward, and in a silent flash, they vanished.

I exhaled slowly and looked up. “How does it look?”

The crow’s nest was enhanced with a scrying enchantment that extended perception far beyond normal sight. Ru Qiu leaned over its edge slightly. “Not bad. Just be ready for anything.”

“Summon: Ezekiel.”

The skeleton manifested beside me. I stepped away from the wheel as he took my place.

“It won’t be strange to see a skeleton in the underworld,” I muttered, then paused. “Actually, I don’t think we’re in the underworld yet. I would know.”

I turned to Ezekiel. “Take care of the ship.”

He nodded silently before activating Divine Possession, dissolving into pale light and merging with the Mighty Duck. The vessel’s hum deepened subtly as his control integrated with its systems.

Ru Qiu continued his report. “It’s a massive floating island. There’s an enormous tower at the center, surrounded by multiple defensive formations. It doesn’t appear hostile. There’s a port structure, and what I can only describe as commoners moving about. Most of them look human.”

That was interesting.

“Ezekiel, drop the stealth formations,” I ordered.

The Dark Veil shrouding the vessel thinned and dissipated. The Mighty Duck rotated smoothly, presenting its full profile toward the floating island.

Moments later, a figure rose to meet us.

He was in the Ascended Soul Realm, dressed in silver robes and carrying a long spear. His aura was disciplined rather than oppressive. He hovered before us and raised a hand.

“Halt. You stand before one of the outposts of the Celestial Circle guarding the fringes of the universe. State your purpose.”

I answered succinctly. “Information.”

At the same time, I sent Qi Speech to Ru Qiu. “Do not do anything rash. I know you have grievances with the Celestial Circle, but this is neither the time nor the place.”

The last thing we needed was to start a war at our first stop beyond the Hollowed World.

“I will heed your words,” Ru Qiu replied, though I could feel the tension in his voice.

In his era, the Celestial Circle had been one of the many invading forces Ru Qiu fought. They spanned the Six Realms and acted at the bidding of the Six Supremes. To him, they were not bureaucrats or border guards. They were enemies.

“I see,” the silver-robed cultivator said as he scrutinized us.

His gaze lingered on me, then passed over Alice, Jiang Zhen, and Fan Shi before stopping at Ru Qiu.

He paused.

Wait.

Did he recognize him?

For a fleeting moment, I considered knocking him out preemptively and stuffing him below deck while we investigated quietly. It would have been cleaner.

“Please, remain on hold,” the cultivator said.

I closed my eyes briefly and opened my Ophanim.

Externally, nothing changed. Internally, the world fractured into layers of possibility and choice. Threads of intention branched outward from every being in sight. The Celestial Circle cultivator’s future paths multiplied rapidly.

I sighed.

We were being surrounded.

The prophetic function of the Ophanim was direct and analytical. Where Gu Jie’s eyes traced destiny, mine traced decisions. The cultivator’s choice was already leaning toward hostility.

“Ru Qiu, weaken him,” I said calmly. “Alice, do not let him escape. I will extract information.”

Ru Qiu vanished in a blur of black flame. He reappeared above the cultivator and brought down a dark, fiery axe kick. The impact shattered the man’s spear and crushed into his shoulder, sending him plummeting downward.

At the exact same moment, Alice’s blood spear pierced through the cultivator’s opposite shoulder, anchoring him in place mid-fall.

“Summon: Ezekiel.”

Another skeleton manifested beside me, already aligned with my intent.

Alice made a pulling motion with her hand. Blood threads tightened, dragging the injured cultivator toward the deck of the Mighty Duck.

“Divine Word: Rest.”

The words carried authority. The cultivator’s consciousness dulled instantly.

The newly summoned Ezekiel activated Divine Possession, merging with the cultivator partially to create an isolated spiritual chamber. This would prevent outside interference while I extracted information. Holy Spirit mediation made the process significantly safer.

At the same time, I ordered through the ship’s connection, “Ezekiel, stealth formation and warp.”

The skeleton merged within the Mighty Duck responded instantly. The vessel shuddered, vanished beneath a veil of concealment, and slipped into warp once more.

I felt the Ezekiel left behind near the outpost perish.

Through the Ophanim, I absorbed the information he gathered in his final moments. The data flowed into me seamlessly, reconstructed from fragmented perception. It felt strange, like watching a short broadcast of events I had not physically witnessed.

I blinked.

That was my first time using the Ophanim in that manner. It felt absurdly overpowered.

After processing everything, I muttered, “Damn it.”

Using a small amount of quintessence, I conjured two sheets of paper into my hands.

“What is it?” Jiang Zhen asked.

Fan Shi leaned forward eagerly. “Is it actionable intelligence?”

Jiang Zhen immediately scolded her. “Even if it is, focus on cultivation once we reach the underworld.”

I held up the papers. “It is nothing that sophisticated. It is a bounty poster.”

The first sheet bore Ru Qiu’s likeness, accompanied by an absurdly long string of reward values. The paper was worn and aged, clearly circulating for a long time.

The second sheet made my eyelid twitch.

It was my face.

Underneath was an equally long series of numbers.

“I have not even done anything yet,” I muttered. “And I already have a bounty? That is nonsense.”

Then I reconsidered.

It was likely connected to the Supreme Heart. I distinctly remembered that bastard observing me during my confrontation with my counterpart. If he had a hand in this, that would explain it.

Gu Jie floated closer and said gently, “Do not overthink it, Father. We all get unlucky sometimes.”

The irony was not lost on me.

She had once been the one hunted and condemned, and now she was consoling me. On second thought, she was probably teasing me. Her expression remained perfectly stoic, which only made it worse.

Alice voiced what everyone was already thinking. “This is going to hinder us a lot.”

Ru Qiu dropped from the crow’s nest and landed beside me, folding his arms as he glanced at the bounty poster bearing his face. “While I am flattered that I still have a price on my head and that it remains in circulation,” he said dryly, “we are ill-equipped to confront an organization like the Celestial Circle head-on.”

Alice tilted her head slightly. “Did you not fight them in the past? From what I gathered, you crushed them.”

Ru Qiu shook his head. “Back then, I had the Source backing me. Miracles were abundant. Now? Not so much.”

That was a fair point. Even the strongest cultivator felt the absence of a cosmic cheat code.

Jiang Zhen raised a hesitant hand. He looked visibly unsure whether he should insert himself into a discussion dominated by Ascended Souls. His realm was far lower, and he was clearly aware of it.

“Speak your mind,” I told him. “There is no need for permission, old friend.”

His Isolation Path Sect had drawn inspiration from Underworld mythology. Originally gravekeepers, they had guarded tombs and tended to the dead. Over time, their sect had adapted, dipping into assassination contracts and less-than-pure ventures, but at their core they were still tied to death and burial rites.

He cleared his throat. “This may be presumptuous, but the Underworld is supposed to be barren, is it not? A realm without life, filled with departed souls managed by godly existences who guide them toward rebirth. If that is the case, what are the chances of encountering human civilization there? I do not think it should be possible for humans to establish an organized society in such a place.”

He had a point.

The cultivator we intercepted earlier had been human. From the fragments of memory I extracted, he was not even a direct member of the Celestial Circle. He had been deployed by someone affiliated with it. That suggested factions within the organization, and possibly representation from the Underworld itself.

Ru Qiu added, “Among the invading Outsiders in my era, I remember fighting ghost immortals. However, I do not recall any organized army representing the Underworld as a unified force.”

Alice folded her arms. “So you mean what happened earlier was an anomaly. A fiasco.”

Ru Qiu nodded.

I glanced at the lingering impressions from the extracted memories. “From what I gathered, the Underworld has no unifying authority. It is essentially a free-for-all. That environment allows cultivators from other realms to come and go with relative freedom.”

I paused before continuing.

“However, it is not as open as it sounds. There exists a group of powerful entities known as the Four Horsemen. They patrol the Underworld, and their reputation is… unpleasant.”

That was the polite version.

They were embodiments of calamity. War. Famine. Pestilence. Death. Their very existence perpetuated the stagnation of the realm. The Underworld was not chaotic because of negligence; it was chaotic because it was shaped by concepts that thrived on imbalance.

“The Underworld is known as the most uncooperative realm among the Six Realms,” I continued. “As for the Supreme Being who rules this land, I found nothing. Either the information is deeply concealed, or there is no clear sovereign at all.”

Which was more unsettling.

Alice exhaled slowly. “So we are entering a lawless realm patrolled by embodiments of disaster, while being wanted by a multirealm organization.”

“When you put it that way,” I replied, “it sounds mildly inconvenient.”

Ru Qiu gave me a flat look.

I folded the bounty posters and tucked them away. “We adjust accordingly. We do not provoke the Celestial Circle unless necessary. We gather information quietly. If the Underworld truly lacks a central authority, that works both for and against us.”

Fan Shi, who had been listening intently, finally spoke. “So what is our immediate move?”

I looked ahead into the star-speckled expanse where the outpost once was, now far behind us.

“We avoid established ports,” I said. “We find a peripheral entry point into the Underworld proper. Somewhere overlooked. If it is truly a realm of stagnation and fragmentation, there will be cracks.”

I gathered a strand of quintessence in my palm and invoked the power of creation once more.

Fragments of memory I extracted from the Celestial Circle cultivator surfaced, and I began reconstructing what I saw. Lines of light formed in the air, weaving together into a three-dimensional projection. Stars, boundaries, symbols, and shifting markers assembled themselves into a detailed chart.

Fan Shi leaned closer. “What is that?”

“It is a star map,” I replied. “A cartographic record of the Underworld drafted by the Celestial Circle. It is… not easy to interpret.”

The symbols were layered with encoded meaning. I opened my Ophanim and focused. The chaotic tangle of lines resolved into structured information.

The Underworld was divided into five primary zones.

Four of them belonged to the so-called Four Horsemen.

Conquest, also known as Pestilence, controlled a relatively small territory marked by the symbol of a bow and arrow. I frowned at that. Considering how that lunatic had once maneuvered within my world, I would have expected a far larger domain.

War held the largest territory by far. It was marked in red and emblazoned with a sword symbol at what appeared to be a central capital. According to the annotations, it was effectively an empire unto itself. Of all four, War seemed the most organized.

Famine controlled an even smaller region than Conquest. Its territory was marked with a pair of scales, which I assumed represented imbalance or depletion rather than justice.

Then there was Death.

The symbol was a skeleton, and the annotation was blunt. Life would perish in the vicinity of that zone. No embellishment. No euphemism.

The fifth zone consisted of scattered neutral territories. No single ruler claimed them. They existed between the larger domains like unguarded seams.

“Perhaps we can establish a base in one of the neutral regions,” I suggested.

I handed the projection to Alice.

She stared at it for a moment before shaking her head. “I cannot read this.”

She passed it to Ru Qiu. He squinted at the floating lines and symbols.

“What is this even?” he muttered. “It makes no sense.”

I blinked. “You cannot read it?”

I activated the Ophanim again, tracing cause and effect. The conclusion surfaced quickly. The map was encoded with a cultivation method unique to the Celestial Circle. It was not simply a language barrier. It was perception-based encryption, likely bestowed by higher authority. Replicating it would require acquiring the technique directly, which meant kidnapping or interrogating a proper member of the Celestial Circle.

Fan Shi spoke up quietly. “I can read it, though.”

All eyes turned to her.

She stiffened under the attention.

Jiang Zhen glanced at the projection and shook his head. “I cannot read it either. That likely means it is unrelated to my sect’s techniques.”

Interesting.

Was it because of the Mage Legacy within Fan Shi? I possessed the Paladin Legacy, but perhaps the reason I could interpret it was due to the Ophanim rather than inheritance. Alice carried the Warlock Legacy, so she should have qualified if it were merely a matter of Legacy.

Unless it was something more specific.

Fan Shi specialized in mental-domain magic. Perhaps the map required cognitive resonance aligned with structured arcane analysis rather than brute authority or corruption-based power.

I floated the projection toward her. “Tell me what you see.”

She studied it carefully. “There are four major factions, I think. Each controls a territory. There is neutral ground between them. The Underworld is… massive.”

Her interpretation aligned with my own.

That confirmed it.

The map required either Ophanim-level analytical override or a Mage-oriented mental framework to decode properly.

“Good,” I said. “That makes things easier.”

I dismissed the projection and folded my arms. “We are splitting up.”

Ru Qiu’s brow lifted slightly.

“Alice is coming with me,” I continued. “We are going to visit Meng Po’s territory.”

If there was anyone who understood the movement of souls and the structure of the Underworld beyond factional warfare, it would be her.

I turned to Ru Qiu. “You are in charge of the ship. Find a location where we can establish a base. Preferably somewhere near a piece of civilization that will not immediately declare us fugitives.”

He gave a slow nod.

The Underworld was fragmented, lawless, and ruled by calamities.

It was the perfect place to disappear.

Or to build something new.