Immortal Paladin

[POV: Mao Xian]

The Adventurer’s Guild had long since ceased to be a mere organization of wandering cultivators and hired blades. Within the Holy Ascension Empire, it had become an artery through which information, labor, military contracts, exploration permits, and diplomatic channels flowed without pause. Every major power in the Hollowed World relied on it in one way or another. Merchant conglomerates used it to secure routes through unstable territories. Sects used it to outsource dangerous operations without staining their reputations. Noble clans used it to move resources discreetly. Even the military depended on its sprawling web of adventurers, scouts, and logistical personnel whenever conventional structures proved too rigid for rapidly changing situations. To call the Adventurer’s Guild the hands and legs of the Empire would have been an insult to the scope of its influence. It was closer to a second nervous system woven beneath civilization itself.

That was precisely why Mao Xian had been placed at its head despite his crimes, despite his history, and despite the fear his name still invoked among older generations.

The World Council had needed someone dangerous enough to control dangerous people, yet compromised enough to remove if necessary. A leash worked best on a man who knew he wore one. Mao Xian understood that from the very beginning. The Holy Emperor himself likely did not care for such political maneuvering. The ruler of the Empire trusted those around him with an almost frightening degree of sincerity. If someone performed their duty well, the Holy Emperor rewarded them with greater authority rather than suspicion. The same principle extended toward his followers. It was a style of leadership that should have collapsed beneath betrayal long ago, yet somehow it continued working because the people around him kept proving worthy of that trust.

Mao Xian did not know whether to admire that or resent it.

Despite his bitterness toward the former Summit of the Four Powers and the humiliations of his past, he remained devoted to his work. Perhaps because the Guild had originally been his creation. Long before the Holy Ascension Empire rose to dominance, before the Hollowed World unified beneath one banner, Mao Xian had studied fragmented records from the Greater Universe. He had learned of exploration societies that charted dead realms and cosmic routes between stars. He had learned of the Celestial Circle, whose independent cultivators acted as pioneers beyond the reach of empires. Using those incomplete ideas and laughably small resources, he had constructed the foundation of the Adventurer’s Guild almost entirely by himself.

Many people remembered Mao Xian as a criminal.

Few remembered he was also a genius.

Unfortunately, genius meant very little before the thing currently looming beyond Luminary’s Rest.

The flying city drifted silently through the dark skies of the Underworld, its enormous defensive formations trembling under distant shockwaves that rolled across reality itself. Mao Xian stood near the edge of the city’s outer platform with his hands clasped behind his back, his expression pale beneath the cold light of countless formation arrays. Since the Holy Emperor had departed alongside his disciple and Judge of the Underworld, operational authority over Luminary’s Rest had fallen directly into Mao Xian’s hands.

It was not a responsibility he wanted.

Far in the distance, beyond layers of distorted clouds and ruptured spatial currents, the Great Beast moved.

Its existence pressed against the world like an infection trying to force itself through flesh too small to contain it. The mere act of observing the creature caused reality to convulse around it. Mountains folded inward when its outline shifted. Entire regions of the Underworld warped into spirals of screaming darkness whenever fragments of its body became visible through the spatial fractures.

Mao Xian felt bile rise in his throat.

His vision blurred violently as veins bulged near his temples. He immediately looked away before the pressure inside his skull intensified further. Even with his dual cultivation in both the Transcendent Path and Longevity Path, prolonged observation of the Great Beast threatened catastrophic backlash. He could already feel traces of alien thoughts clawing at the edge of his consciousness merely from that brief glance.

The weaker cultivators stationed across Luminary’s Rest suffered far worse consequences.

Some collapsed unconscious after accidental exposure. Others began bleeding from their eyes. A handful had reportedly gone mad.

Mao Xian turned sharply and strode back into the central administrative hall now converted into a war command center. Hundreds of personnel moved between glowing projection arrays while scribes and formation engineers relayed messages across countless communication channels. The atmosphere was tense, but disciplined. Fear lingered in every corner of the room, yet no one dared indulge in panic.

Mao Xian’s voice cut through the command center like a blade.

“Send immediate notice to every stationed division. No personnel below the Perfect Immortal Realm are permitted to observe the Great Beast directly under any circumstances. All long-range observation must be conducted through filtered arrays and indirect projections only.”

Several scribes hurriedly recorded the order.

“Also notify the logistics division that they are to integrate themselves fully into the Crimson Empress’s logistical command structure,” Mao Xian continued. “From this point onward, rear support operations will no longer be handled solely by the Adventurer’s Guild. The unified coalition forces under the Crimson Empress will oversee primary supply coordination.”

A few officials exchanged nervous glances. The scale of that restructuring was enormous.

Mao Xian noticed immediately.

“You’re all accustomed to paperwork,” he said coldly. “You’re accustomed to balancing inventories, assigning support personnel, processing expedition requests, and maintaining operational stability from behind secured offices. This time will be different. This time you stand at the heart of the defensive line protecting our civilization.”

Silence swallowed the room.

The weight of his words settled heavily across everyone present.

“The Great Beast is not an enemy that can be defeated by reckless courage alone,” Mao Xian said. “If supply lines collapse, if evacuations fail, if communication breaks down, then entire worlds die regardless of how powerful our cultivators may be. Do your jobs properly and you may very well save more lives than the people fighting at the front.”

His gaze swept across the command center.

“And don’t be afraid,” he said firmly. “The Holy Emperor is with us.”

The atmosphere steadied slightly after those words. Not because the fear vanished, but because the Holy Emperor’s existence itself had become synonymous with impossibility overturned. As long as that man still stood, people believed survival remained possible.

Suddenly, the doors burst open.

A runner stumbled inside carrying several black crystalline orbs bundled within reinforced cloth containers. Sweat drenched his robes while exhaustion strained every breath.

“Primary Mao Xian!” the runner shouted. “New directives from the upper command! Princess Gu Jie ordered immediate deployment of these orbs for evacuation procedures!”

Mao Xian stepped forward and took one of the objects from the runner’s trembling hands. The orb was smooth, cold, and disturbingly familiar. Wisps of pale spiritual mist swirled beneath its dark surface like trapped ghosts.

His expression darkened immediately.

“These are Soul-Absorbing Orbs,” he muttered.

The room fell silent once more.

Such items were infamous throughout the Hollowed World. Demonic sects traditionally used them to harvest and imprison souls during massacres or sacrificial rituals. Entire righteous campaigns had once been launched to exterminate groups manufacturing them illegally.

Yet now the Empire intended to use them for evacuation.

Mao Xian understood the logic almost instantly, and that realization horrified him more than the orbs themselves.

There were simply too many people.

Too many cities.

Too many worlds.

The logistics required to evacuate populations on such a scale exceeded conventional transportation methods entirely. Spatial fleets alone would never suffice. The only viable solution was temporary soul preservation and mass transfer operations under controlled containment.

No wonder the task had been handed to the Crimson Empress.

Only someone commanding logistical capabilities on a near-divine level could coordinate something this monstrous.

Mao Xian tightened his grip around the orb before turning toward his staff.

“Issue emergency procurement orders immediately,” he commanded. “Gather every Soul-Absorbing Orb available within Guild territory regardless of origin. I don’t care whether they come from sect vaults, confiscated evidence storage, or private collections.”

Several officials hesitated.

Mao Xian’s eyes sharpened dangerously.

“Move.”

The hesitation vanished instantly.

“Send formal requests to the Federation as well,” he continued. “I want commercial acquisition contracts opened with every major conglomerate operating within the Eighth Layer. Any item capable of large-scale soul containment, spiritual preservation, or emergency consciousness transfer is now classified as a wartime necessity.”

The officials hurried to comply while communication arrays flared to life across the command center.

Outside Luminary’s Rest, the distant silhouette of the Great Beast continued distorting the heavens themselves.

And for the first time in his long life, Mao Xian truly understood what it meant for civilization to stand at the edge of extinction.

…

..

.

[POV: Liu Yana]

The Soul Horizon separating the Eighth and Ninth Layer had become crowded with warships, merchant vessels, spirit carriers, and colossal Soaring Dragon Vessels arranged into an enormous blockade that stretched across the fractured skies like a metallic continent. Thousands of formation arrays pulsed beneath the armada, illuminating the dark void of the Underworld in shifting hues of gold, crimson, and pale blue. Countless dragon-shaped figureheads opened their jaws as spiritual cannons gathered energy deep within their throats, creating an atmosphere so tense that even the surrounding spatial currents trembled uneasily.

Above the blockade, Han Lun guided his enormous falcon through the violent winds while Liu Yana stood balanced behind him with one hand gripping his waist. The beast’s feathers shimmered with silver spiritual light as it glided above the gathered armies below.

“Is this wise?” Han Lun asked quietly. His sharp eyes scanned the enormous gathering beneath them. “They seem angry.”

Angry was an understatement.

Below the blockade gathered an immense coalition formed from desperation rather than loyalty. Merchant conglomerates from countless Greater Realms had assembled their cultivators and fleets together after realizing the Holy Ascension Empire intended to restrict passage through the Ninth Layer. Humans stood beside demons. Heavenly beings argued alongside spirit beasts. Even several asura warbands hovered near the rear of the gathering force with weapons already drawn.

They all wanted the same thing.

Escape.

The Underworld was turning into a battlefield against a nightmare capable of devouring civilizations whole. Anyone with wealth, influence, or enough information understood remaining behind carried enormous risk. To leave the Underworld, however, they needed access to the Ninth Layer and the pathways beyond.

And Liu Yana currently stood in front of those pathways.

“Just protect me and stay by my side,” Liu Yana replied calmly.

Han Lun sighed softly but nodded.

The falcon suddenly folded its wings and dived downward through the turbulent air. Spiritual pressure exploded outward as nearby cultivators scrambled aside while the massive beast descended toward the center of the blockade. Moments before reaching the fleets below, the falcon halted abruptly and floated motionlessly in the air.

Thousands of eyes turned toward them immediately.

Liu Yana stepped forward atop the falcon’s back, her robes fluttering beneath the pressure radiating from countless warships.

“I am Liu Yana,” she declared, her voice amplified through spiritual energy until it echoed across the Soul Horizon itself. “Representative of the Holy Ascension Empire.”

The reaction was immediate.

An arrow streaked through the air toward her face with murderous speed.

Clang.

Han Lun moved before anyone even saw him shift positions. His blade flashed once, effortlessly knocking the arrow aside as sparks scattered through the air. Simultaneously, the Soaring Dragon Vessels behind Liu Yana awakened in unison. Massive formations ignited across their hulls while spiritual cannons rotated downward toward the gathered conglomerates below.

The atmosphere instantly turned explosive.

Everyone understood what the Empire was doing.

It was intimidation.

A dirty tactic born from desperation.

But desperation was precisely what defined the current era.

“You dare block our passage?!” a demon cultivator roared furiously from one of the merchant fleets. “Do you know who we represent?!”

“Our conglomerate belongs to the Celestial Circle!” another shouted. “If anything happens to us, your Empire will answer for it!”

“You can’t keep us trapped here!”

“We refuse to die alongside this collapsing realm!”

“Move aside!”

“You people have gone insane!”

Voices erupted from every direction as cultivators screamed themselves hoarse. Threats, curses, and frantic demands surged across the battlefield while countless spiritual auras flared violently. Some people invoked ancient factions from distant Greater Realms. Others threatened retaliation once they returned home. A few simply begged.

Liu Yana listened quietly.

She understood them better than most people would.

These individuals were merchants at their core. Their lives revolved around calculations of risk, profit, and survival. Staying within the Underworld no longer represented uncertainty.

It represented guaranteed loss.

Once they died, their wealth, influence, businesses, bloodlines, and ambitions would vanish alongside them. That was why they abandoned territories, assets, and countless lesser resources to rush toward the Ninth Layer with only their most valuable possessions in tow.

Honestly, Liu Yana could have simply slaughtered them and confiscated everything they left behind.

But that would have been wasteful.

The Holy Ascension Empire needed resources far more than corpses.

And more importantly, they needed cooperation.

Especially if they intended to secure stable escape routes into neighboring Greater Realms such as the Greater Human Realm or, failing that, the Greater Hell Realm.

Liu Yana smiled faintly.

“If you wish to pass through the Ninth Layer,” she announced calmly, “then the Holy Ascension Empire requires a toll payment of five billion spirit stones per organization.”

Chaos exploded.

“FIVE BILLION?!”

“Are you insane?!”

“That’s robbery!”

“You’re extorting us!”

“A passage fee worth an entire mid-sized realm?!”

“Has the Empire gone mad?!”

Even some of the soldiers aboard the Soaring Dragon Vessels twitched visibly after hearing the number. The amount was so absurd that many cultivators momentarily forgot their fear and simply stared at Liu Yana in disbelief.

Unfortunately for them, she was not finished.

“The five billion spirit stones merely represent the starting amount,” Liu Yana continued smoothly. “Passage rights through the Ninth Layer will now be auctioned. We also accept high-grade artifacts, rare resources, immortal materials, and equivalent valuables as payment.”

The gathered merchants nearly exploded from outrage.

But Liu Yana’s eyes remained calm.

The moment she transformed the situation into an auction, the united anger of the conglomerates immediately began fracturing into competition and suspicion. Merchants could cooperate temporarily against a common enemy.

They could not tolerate losing profit to one another.

Especially not when survival itself had become the commodity being sold.

A heavyset man suddenly emerged from the front ranks of the fleets aboard an extravagant golden vessel adorned with heavenly runes. Sweat dripped down his face, but determination burned brightly in his eyes.

“I bid ten billion spirit stones!” he shouted loudly. “Our Heavenly Prosperity Consortium from the Greater Heaven Realm demands immediate passage!”

Liu Yana recognized him immediately.

A greedy but influential merchant lord with extensive ties across several Greater Realms.

She raised an eyebrow slightly.

“Ten billion spirit stones,” she repeated. “Does anyone wish to contest the bid?”

The surrounding fleets fell deathly quiet.

Many clearly wanted to protest, but very few possessed enough liquid wealth to casually throw away such an amount on short notice.

When nobody spoke, Liu Yana nodded.

“Then the bid is accepted.”

The fat merchant visibly relaxed before hurriedly tossing a storage ring toward her. Han Lun caught it midair and passed it over without lowering his guard.

Liu Yana inspected the contents briefly.

Ten billion spirit stones.

Exactly as promised.

Without hesitation, she raised her hand toward the blockade.

“Open a path,” she ordered.

Massive formation arrays shifted immediately as several Soaring Dragon Vessels moved aside, creating a narrow opening through the blockade. The merchant lord wasted no time whatsoever. His fleets surged forward almost frantically, disappearing toward the Ninth Layer before anyone else could interfere.

The moment they departed, the remaining conglomerates erupted once more.

“Seven billion!”

“I’ll offer eight billion alongside three immortal artifacts!”

“Our faction can provide immortal beast corpses!”

“Nine billion spirit stones!”

“We demand priority passage!”

“Damn it! We’re offering ten billion spirit stones!”

The auction descended into madness.

Cultivators screamed bids across the battlefield while accountants and elders rapidly calculated the value of every resource they possessed. Suspicion spread between allied fleets as organizations desperately tried to outbid one another for survival.

Liu Yana watched the chaos calmly.

Unbeknownst to the fleeing merchants, another Imperial armada already waited near the outer edge of the Ninth Layer. There, additional “taxes” and “toll fees” would be collected in the Holy Emperor’s name before anyone could leave the Hollowed World entirely.

Every spirit stone mattered now.

Warp arrays capable of transporting entire populations across Greater Realms consumed horrifying amounts of energy. The more wealth they gathered, the more civilians they could evacuate without relying upon dragons as alternative power sources.

And if greedy merchants wished to buy their survival with mountains of wealth, then the Holy Ascension Empire would gladly accept the transaction.