Immortal Paladin

I could see more clearly than ever before.

The Ophanim still felt unwieldy, like wielding a celestial instrument far too grand for mortal hands. Yet even in my imperfect grasp, it cut through the obscurity of the Greater Universe with frightening efficiency. Navigating the edges of the Underworld had become almost trivial under its gaze.

When I died in False Earth, I had gambled everything. I had used the Destiny Seeking Eyes to bestow upon myself an overwhelming strand of fate, then forced my soul to leap from the Hollowed World and arrive in the Underworld. At the time, it had been desperation disguised as strategy. I wanted to find my once-perished disciple. In hindsight, the Source had likely done most of the heavy lifting. My so-called brilliance was probably just me riding on a cosmic cheat.

Alice guided the bicorn carefully through the void. “How much farther?” she asked. “We have covered quite a distance already.”

I sat behind her, maintaining a respectful posture so as not to provoke the infernal creature again. “We should be close,” I answered.

I wanted to feel hopeful about seeing Meng Po again. However, harboring me within her domain had not been a small matter. The forces hunting me had been absurd. It would have been naïve to assume she emerged untouched.

After another stretch of silence, I felt it.

“We are here,” I said quietly.

Before us stretched a vast swathe of emptiness.

This was where the thread of destiny ended.

I released Alice’s waist and floated forward, hovering beside her in the vacuum. The bicorn snorted softly but did not comment.

“There is nothing here,” Alice observed.

“I fear the worst,” I replied.

I raised my hand and summoned Divine Qi, letting the Ophanim bloom fully open.

The ocular ability had many functions. It could replicate Immortal Arts in a manner reminiscent of Nongmin’s technique copying, except without the need to sacrifice memory as fuel. My counterpart had wielded a far more exaggerated version of that trick in his battle against Alice. Beyond that, the Ophanim granted unparalleled perception of energies, laws, and abstract manifestations such as destiny itself.

However, I had recently uncovered something deeper.

A foresight that surpassed even the Destiny Seeking Eyes.

It was an extension of the Fifth Realm soul ability, the power to perceive crossroads and the branching of choices. It allowed me to interpret the distance between cause and effect, to peer into the memory of the universe itself.

I pushed the ability outward.

The strain was immediate. My vision fractured, layered with overlapping timelines and fading imprints. I focused on this location, on the absence before me, and forced the Ophanim to read what once was.

Images flickered of a terrible battle.

Meng Po’s domain, once serene and unfathomably vast, trembled under catastrophic force. Spectral rivers evaporated. Towers of jade and bone shattered like fragile glass. The very laws that sustained the space were torn apart.

Then I saw them.

Seven enormous silhouettes loomed in the cosmic haze. Their forms were indistinct, yet their presence crushed reality simply by existing. They did not need to strike. Their gaze alone fractured her domain.

Meng Po stood against them.

But the Meng Po I saw was not the gentle grandma presiding over reincarnation.

She was young and awe-inspiring. Her aura was so magnificent that even as a memory, it made my breath hitch. She radiated a power so pure and ancient that it rivaled the grandest existences I had encountered.

Her face.

It was hauntingly familiar.

“Xin Yune,” I whispered unconsciously.

The resemblance struck me like a physical blow.

Then clarity followed.

“No… this is Meng Po.”

The seven silhouettes pressed forward.

Her defenses collapsed.

Her existence was shredded piece by piece, torn apart under overwhelming suppression. Laws unraveled. Authority fractured. Her form disintegrated into countless fragments of conceptual essence, scattered across the Underworld.

And then there was nothing.

Meng Po had not been erased from history. The universe still remembered her. That meant she was not completely annihilated. But whatever she had been, whatever grandeur she once embodied, had been broken and scattered. It was not the worst fate, but it was a terrible fate nonetheless.

I stared at the seven enormous silhouettes, their shadows stretching across the ruins of memory.

Seven.

That number refused to sit properly in my mind.

There were the Six Supremes. That was the structure of the Greater Universe. The Supreme Void stood apart as their enemy, sealed within the Hollowed World. If the Void was sealed and the Six were the ruling apex, then why were there seven figures crushing Meng Po’s domain?

Where did the seventh come from?

Was one of them not who we thought they were?

“David, wake up!”

The cry pierced through the vision like a blade.

I shuddered violently and tore myself free from the memory of the universe.

Reality snapped back into place.

I found myself held tightly by Alice. She was crying, her red eyes trembling as she clutched me as though I might vanish at any second.

Then I realized why.

Everything below my neck had dissolved into motes of light.

A cold wave of fear surged through me.

My torso, my arms, my lower body had partially assimilated into the fabric of the universe. I had not merely observed the memory. I had begun merging with it. My existence was dissolving into the greater continuum of cause and effect, losing its boundaries.

I understood instantly what had happened.

By pushing the Ophanim too deeply into the memory of the universe, I had blurred the distinction between observer and recorded reality. My soul had begun interpreting itself as part of the memory stream.

The sensation was disturbingly familiar.

It felt like Divine Possession.

Except instead of merging with a target, I had begun merging with the cosmos itself.

If I had gone a little further, I would have lost my agency entirely. I would have become an imprint, a record, and a piece of universal history rather than an active participant in it.

I shuddered.

“Sorry about that, Alice,” I said softly, though my voice wavered despite my attempt at calm. “I did not mean to scare you.”

In truth, I was terrified.

I focused inward and invoked, “Blessed Regeneration.”

Radiant light surged through the fragments of my fading body. Flesh, bone, and spirit reassembled themselves. Starshroud flowed over me, first forming a protective armor before relaxing into a familiar robe that wrapped snugly around my restored frame.

I flexed my fingers just to confirm I was solid again.

Alice did not release me immediately. “What did you find?” she asked quietly.

“It is gone,” I answered, forcing myself to meet her eyes. “They destroyed her.”

Even saying it felt unreal.

A mere projection of will had obliterated an entire domain. Meng Po had fought back with everything she possessed. I had seen her wield the Wheel of Reincarnation itself, challenging those silhouettes with desperate grandeur.

It had not mattered.

The Supreme Beings did not descend personally. They projected their will, and reality complied. Her existence was shredded until nothing tangible remained.

They were likely limited in some way. Otherwise, they would have come in person. Or perhaps they simply could not be bothered. That possibility was somehow worse.

I grimaced.

If even one of them decided to “personally” handle me, it would be game over.

The only comfort was that they had not immediately descended the moment the Celestial Circle identified me. Either information traveled slower than I feared, or they were preoccupied. Perhaps they were busy keeping one another in check. If the Six Supremes truly balanced each other in a stalemate, that might explain the delay.

Still, something troubled me.

The Supreme Heart.

That slimy bastard had gone to considerable lengths to sabotage me in the past. To be fair, much of my direct inconvenience had come from Aixin, and blaming everything on him might be unjust.

Except he was the first Supreme Being I had ever spoken to.

My first true encounter with that tier of existence.

He had presented himself with deceptive warmth sprinkled with theater, yet every subsequent event hinted at layered intentions. The fact that he remained silent now did not reassure me. It worried me more.

“What is next?” Alice asked softly. “Do we return to the others?”

“Not yet,” I replied.

After steadying my breathing and reasserting the boundaries of my existence, I reached out once more, though far more cautiously this time. It would be a tremendous waste to leave empty-handed. I had hoped to gain Meng Po’s backing, or at the very least secure a fragment of her authority. With her domain annihilated and her existence scattered, I had to adjust.

I closed my eyes briefly and pulled at a surviving thread of destiny.

It was faint, frayed at the edges, but it was there.

“Let’s go,” I said. “It is not far.”

Alice guided her bicorn beside me as we followed the invisible line through the void.

Soon, a grotesque spectacle came into view.

Debris floated everywhere, massive fragments of shattered worlds and broken civilizations drifting aimlessly in space. Chunks of cities, broken landmasses, fragments of towers and temples spun slowly in the vacuum.

At the center of it all was an enormous Void Beast.

It coiled through the wreckage like a gluttonous serpent, devouring entire continental fragments with slow, grinding bites.

“We should stay out of its way,” I said quietly.

Even I was not confident of emerging unscathed from a direct clash. My knowledge of Void Beasts was limited. They were said to spawn from the influence of the Supreme Void, aberrations that existed outside conventional cultivation hierarchies.

I narrowed my eyes. “That one might be equivalent to a Ruler of Law among its kind.”

The creature’s body was long and sinuous, gray flesh rippling unnaturally. Its form defied symmetry. Limbs jutted from its sides at inconsistent intervals. Clusters of jagged, glass-like teeth protruded from random points along its body. It swam through the vacuum as though space itself were an ocean, lazily consuming the remnants of ruined worlds.

Alice studied it. “Do you think it is sentient?”

“I do not wish to find out,” I answered honestly.

We curved wide around it, carefully adjusting our path while I maintained hold of the destiny thread. The Void Beast did not acknowledge us, too occupied with its feast to care about two distant Ascended Souls.

Eventually, we arrived at a small, lonely moon drifting near the debris field.

“This is it,” I said, descending.

I landed gently on its cracked surface. Alice dismounted behind me, the bicorn snorting softly.

“What are we here for, David?” she asked.

I sensed the ambush a fraction of a second before it struck, too quick even with my attributes.

A silver spear erupted through my chest from behind.

The impact drove me forward slightly. I grabbed the shaft with one hand instinctively as Starshroud snapped into armored form, reinforcing my body and halting further penetration.

Without turning, I summoned Silver Steel and swung backward in a clean arc.

The blade stopped mid-swing.

I found myself staring at a man with a long, severe face. His eyes widened in recognition.

“It is you—”

He never finished.

A bloody dragon erupted from Alice’s position and slammed him into the ground, burrowing him deep beneath the lunar surface in an explosion of crimson force.

“Hey, long time no see, too,” I winced. “You are exactly the kind of person I was looking for—”

Unfortunately, the “person” in question did not appreciate being crushed into a crater.

A violent surge of quintessence exploded outward. The silver spear tore itself from my chest, dragging free in a burst of repelling force that forced me back several steps.

The ground shook.

The man emerged, expanding rapidly in size. His body grew into titanic proportions as he let out a thunderous neigh. His lower half was that of a muscular, near-bare man, while his head was unmistakably equine.

It was Horse-Face.

He brandished the silver spear, now enlarged to match his colossal form.

“Immortal Art: Mane of Ten Thousand Ghosts!”

Ghostly apparitions erupted from his back, weaving themselves into a writhing mane of souls. Each spirit screamed in anguish and fury, their cries merging into a haunting chorus that vibrated through the moon’s crust.

Alice’s expression hardened instantly.

“Immortal Art: Crimson Crown of Catastrophe.”

A blood-forged crown materialized above her head, radiating oppressive authority. The surrounding space tinged faintly red as calamity coiled around her like an unseen storm.

I had no doubt in her strength. However, in terms of accumulated immortality layers, Horse-Face clearly surpassed her. He had existed as an Ascended Soul for far longer. The density of his quintessence alone made that obvious.

He looked down at Alice with disdain.

“I shall teach you proper manners, little one,” he declared, his ghostly mane wailing in agreement.

So much for a peaceful conversation.

The situation escalated far too quickly for my liking.

I decided I would not tolerate it.

“Immortal Art: Divine Appointment of the Faithful.”

I reached across the immeasurable distance separating me from the Hollowed World and pulled upon the faint but steady stream of faith I had left behind. The World Tree and Jue Bu functioned as anchors, receptacles through which devotion flowed. Without them, this would have been impossible.

The faith answered.

It flooded into me, thin compared to what I could draw within my own domain, yet potent enough to reinforce my existence. My aura swelled, star-lit and oppressive.

“Heavenly Punishment.”

I drove Silver Steel into the moon beneath us.

Divine Qi detonated outward. The entire celestial body fractured in an instant, collapsing into violent debris. The shockwave rippled through the surrounding field of ruins, shattering already-broken remnants of worlds into smaller fragments. The vacuum trembled as cascading destruction radiated outward.

“Enough,” I commanded, Ophanim blazing with furious light. “It was a misunderstanding. Let it go.”

Unfortunately, the scale of my outburst drew unwanted attention.

The enormous Void Beast shifted.

Its serpentine body coiled and then surged toward us, gray flesh rippling as its countless asymmetrical limbs flexed. The debris field trembled as it redirected its hunger.

Horse-Face grimaced. “You just had to do it, Da Wei!”

Alice shot back immediately, “Blaming others when it is clearly your fault is not a good look.”

“No more bickering,” I snapped.

The serpent opened its colossal maw. Space itself seemed to distort as it began inhaling. Debris, shattered rock, and dust were dragged toward its mouth in a spiraling torrent. The pull caught us as well.

We ran.

Alice urged her bicorn forward at full speed. The infernal mount shrieked curses in its native tongue, most of them directed at me. It seemed to harbor a personal vendetta.

Horse-Face wasted no time. A strange force enveloped him, propelling his massive body forward in bounding strides that cracked the floating debris beneath his feet.

I combined Zealot’s Stride with Flash Step, chaining bursts of golden displacement as rapidly as I could.

It was not enough.

The entire region was being drawn inward. No matter how fast we moved, the suction reduced our effective progress. Behind us, fragments of worlds crumbled into dust as they crossed the event horizon of the beast’s maw.

“Any ideas?” I shouted.

“We can use Egress!” Alice called back.

That would extract us instantly. 

It would also abandon Horse-Face.

I hesitated.

Horse-Face bellowed, “If I die, I am going to haunt you, Da Wei!”

I almost laughed despite the danger. “You are already halfway there!”

Even now, he retained that arrogant, self-serving bravado I remembered.

“Alice,” I called out, “can you cast the planar spell and drag us all out?”

“That requires preparation and time we do not have!” she answered.

I opened the Ophanim mid-sprint.

Possible outcomes fanned out before me like branching constellations. Most ended with us partially devoured. A few involved sacrificing someone. One thread glimmered with narrow viability.

I grimaced.

“I have an idea,” I shouted, “but you have to help me!”

“I will take what I can!” Horse-Face roared.

I altered my trajectory, leaping across debris in a precise pattern. Each step landed on specific fragments, forming the outline of a temporary pathway.

“Follow me closely!”

Amid the chaos, I spotted it. 

A relatively intact chunk of a destroyed world, roughly the size of an island. More importantly, it still possessed a functioning Dragon Vein running through its core.

“Nongmin, bless your absurd genius,” I muttered.

I landed on the island fragment and immediately began inscribing an array based on modified warp technology Nongmin had developed. My hands moved at breakneck speed, carving lines of Divine Qi into the terrain.

“Horse-Face, help me!” I shouted. “Do not leave me behind!”

Without argument, the titanic horse-headed immortal scooped the entire island onto his back and continued sprinting, using his bulk to stabilize it as I finished the formation.

Alice unleashed her Immortal Art again. Bloody dragons surged forward, clearing obstacles and blasting apart larger debris that threatened to disrupt our path.

The Void Beast drew closer.

Its maw dominated the horizon now.

I completed the final stroke of the array.

“This will destroy the Dragon Vein,” I warned. “But it is already a corpse of a world.”

Alice landed her bicorn on the island fragment, understanding instantly my intentions.

I poured Divine Qi and faith into the formation.

The Dragon Vein ignited.

The island trembled violently as its internal structure was consumed to fuel the warp.

Light swallowed us.

We burst forward in a violent spatial surge, crossing an immense distance in a single, explosive displacement.

Horse-Face released the fragment as it crumbled into useless debris, its Dragon Vein reduced to ash.

Behind us, the Void Beast halted.

It hovered, staring in our direction with what I could only interpret as mild disappointment. After a long moment, it turned away, resuming its slow, indifferent consumption of other ruins.

I exhaled slowly. “What is the deal with that thing?”

Horse-Face’s expression darkened. “It is something like a pet of one of the Supreme Beings. It has been caged in that region for ages. I believe its name is Nidhogg.”

That name was painfully familiar in a very Earth-inspired way.

“Let me guess,” I said carefully. “The Supreme Void?”

Horse-Face stared at me in shock. “How did you know?”