Immortal Paladin

[POV: Conquest]

Conquest’s influence spread through the Hollowed World like a plague hidden beneath healthy flesh. His seed had long since rooted itself into countless hosts, and now those hosts bore fruit. Cities burned without understanding why they burned. Entire sects turned against one another over rumors whispered by mouths that did not belong to men anymore. Deep beneath ancient strongholds, hidden altars of pulsating flesh expanded within forgotten tunnels while malformed creatures crawled from widening cracks in reality. The Hollowed World believed itself to be descending into chaos through coincidence, through greed, through fear, yet behind every collapse was Conquest guiding the strings with patient cruelty.

In the northern territories governed by a fractured noble coalition, a soul-touched governor stood before a gathering of starving refugees. Tears streamed down his face as he preached salvation, his voice trembling with rehearsed compassion. Behind him, hidden beneath the chapel floorboards, his followers carved open prisoners and fed their organs into a growing catalyst made of black veins and breathing stone. The ritual circle beneath the church pulsed slowly, preparing itself to become a Hell Gate once enough suffering saturated the land. Every riot, every execution, every desperate prayer strengthened it further.

Elsewhere, inside the ruins of a collapsed spirit academy, a woman infected by Conquest’s malice opened her arms toward a congregation of kneeling cultivators. Their eyes were hollow. Their mouths moved in unison with hers.

“The Holy Emperor abandoned you,” she whispered softly. “The Martial Alliance abandoned you. Only the true savior remains.”

Behind the congregation, enormous doors made from fused corpses slowly groaned apart. Creatures from beyond the Hollowed World clawed their way through the opening while the kneeling followers continued chanting without turning around. Some of the creatures devoured the weak immediately. Others marched forward like disciplined soldiers responding to a call older than civilization itself.

Far to the west, hidden beneath a mountain prison, Conquest’s spawn infiltrated a containment vault that held ancient forbidden relics. Wardens died silently with their throats opened before alarms could spread. The infiltrators moved with terrifying coordination, stitching together arrays of blood and resentment around the sealed artifacts. The moment the seals shattered, enough corruptive force would erupt to poison entire kingdoms.

Everywhere his flesh spread, instability followed.

Everywhere his whispers reached, faith collapsed.

With the Martial Alliance and the Four Pillars isolated from the World Council, distrust festered like infected wounds. Misunderstandings became hatred. Hatred became violence. Entire populations blamed the Holy Emperor for their suffering because Conquest had carefully ensured that every disaster seemed connected to him. The deeper panic spread, the wider Conquest smiled.

Within a cavern hidden beneath layers of rotting earth, eerie laughter echoed endlessly through the darkness.

Conquest had finally succeeded.

Not merely in deceiving others, but in deceiving himself.

The individuality he forged no longer resembled the fragmented remnants that originally birthed him. He had acclimated to the essence of his creator, the Supreme Death, until the distinction between imitation and reality became dangerously blurred. The entity that emerged from the cave no longer felt like a collection of parasites pretending to be alive.

He felt real.

A dark-skinned man with thick curly hair stepped into the dim light, surrounded by lesser iterations of himself. Every one of them wore white cowls over their diseased skin, though patches of gray spots and pulsating veins remained visible beneath the cloth. Their eyes glimmered with feverish reverence as they followed the being they collectively called Conquest.

One of the lesser iterations lowered his head. “The Four Pillars managed to reconnect with the Ward far earlier than anticipated. Their united resistance has complicated our deployments significantly.”

Another spoke immediately afterward. “That is why the Hell Gates were prepared in advance. Whether Hell itself exploits the opportunity remains uncertain, but the chaos will spread regardless.”

A third iteration chuckled wetly beneath his hood. “Our offensive against the religious factions progresses smoothly. The spies embedded within their territories have intensified the smearing campaigns against the Holy Emperor. Several crusades have already begun in response to fabricated atrocities.”

“The Origin King remains cooperative,” another reported calmly. “Though betrayal is inevitable. He waits only for an advantageous moment.”

One of the lesser forms spat onto the cavern floor. “War continues refusing cooperation entirely. He likely sensed our true nature from the beginning.”

Conquest listened quietly.

Then he smiled.

“I have decided,” he suddenly said.

The lesser iterations exchanged glances before bowing deeper.

“What has our individuality decided?” one asked reverently.

Conquest’s smile widened unnaturally.

“I shall devour the Great Beast.”

Silence swallowed the cavern.

Even the lesser iterations stiffened.

“To accomplish that,” Conquest continued softly, “I must first devour War and Famine.”

Far away from the spreading corruption, War stood amidst the ruins of an abandoned battlefield. Endless fires burned across the horizon while shattered weapons littered the ground like forgotten graves. The blond man remained motionless as wind swept through his hair, though the pressure radiating from his body caused the surrounding space to distort faintly.

Beside him floated Heavenly Flame, her expression tense.

“What is your plan, Your Valiant Majesty?” she asked quietly.

War exhaled heavily.

“I cannot believe this,” he muttered. “Conquest fooled all of us. And here I thought he was some meek and weak fool.”

Bitterness twisted across his face.

No one could have anticipated such deception. Conquest had not merely hidden himself behind lies. He had created entirely separate personalities complete with its own seemingly distinct soul. Even War, who had known his siblings since the dawn of their existence, failed to notice the truth. Everyone believed the Supreme Death still existed somewhere behind the shadows manipulating events.

In reality, Conquest had become the shadow itself.

“If you are lying to me, I will kill you,” War threatened coldly.

Before him stood Da Wei, the Holy Emperor.

Or rather, a projection of him.

War immediately recognized the phenomenon for what it truly was. The Holy Emperor had anchored an alternate timeline and projected its existence through illusion and thought. It was not simple astral communication. The projection carried genuine temporal weight, making the alternate future temporarily real enough to interact with the present.

The Holy Emperor had been here.

And simultaneously had not.

“If you could kill me,” Da Wei replied dryly, “you would not have been sealed. Yet here you are.”

War’s expression darkened further.

“Now,” Da Wei continued, “tell me what Conquest wanted you to do.”

Not long ago, mysterious cultivators had freed War from his imprisonment. At the time, they claimed to serve an unknown master and demanded his assistance in destabilizing the Hollowed World. War never discovered their true allegiance back then. Only after Da Wei approached him did the scattered pieces finally align together.

War had originally suspected the eldest of the Four Horsemen.

Or perhaps one of the Judges of the Underworld.

Never Conquest.

That mistaken assumption was precisely why he failed to notice the trap closing around him.

War crossed his arms. “I am willing to negotiate a peace treaty.”

“No,” Da Wei answered immediately.

War narrowed his eyes.

“You have neither an army nor a country left to negotiate for,” Da Wei said bluntly. “And peace between us no longer matters.”

The atmosphere shifted.

Then an enormous illusion manifested within War’s consciousness.

A monstrous silhouette emerged beyond worlds and dimensions alike. Its existence eclipsed stars. Countless screaming realities spiraled within its jaws as if entire universes were merely fragments of meat waiting to be consumed. The sheer scale of it caused even War’s breathing to falter momentarily.

“The Great Beast,” Da Wei said grimly. “It is coming to devour all existence.”

War grit his teeth hard enough to crack the ground beneath his feet.

“The bastards who freed me,” he growled, “wanted me to attack the Martial Alliance and the Four Pillars.”

His fists trembled with restrained fury.

“Organizations I could not have cared less about.”

…

..

.

[POV: Chen Wei]

Long ears, silver hair, and an unsheathed sword flashing through the battlefield like divine judgment itself.

Chen Wei moved across the torn continent in blinding streaks of light as countless chimeras poured from the exposed fracture connected directly to the Dark Veil. Entire mountain ranges had collapsed when the continent tore apart, leaving behind a grotesque wound upon the Hollowed World. Beyond the rupture, darkness churned endlessly like an ocean of dead stars, and from that darkness emerged malformed creatures that should never have been capable of entering reality.

That was what terrified everyone the most.

The Dark Veil was supposed to reject external existence.

Yet somehow, the Great Beast’s spawn crossed through it.

The battlefield descended into complete madness.

Cultivators soared through the skies beside armored vessels while formations bombarded the advancing hordes with torrents of spiritual artillery. Soldiers wielding rune-inscribed rifles fired desperately from defensive lines while players unleashed abilities that distorted the terrain itself. Bodies littered the ruins of shattered fortresses, but despite the overwhelming terror surrounding them, the defenders still fought together.

A bloodied cultivator roared while thrusting his spear through a three-headed chimera. “Hold the line! If this breach expands, the entire eastern sector is finished!”

Beside him, a player wearing broken mechanical armor laughed madly as lightning erupted from his gauntlets. “Forget the eastern sector! We’re already dead if those things keep coming!”

“Shut up and keep firing!” screamed a soldier from atop a ruined barricade. “The Holy Empire’s fleet is still above us!”

Great vessels filled the skies overhead, carrying countless banners from different factions of the Hollowed World. Some belonged to sects. Others belonged to noble clans, wandering kingdoms, or the Holy Empire itself. Massive cannons attached beneath the ships unleashed concentrated qi beams downward, vaporizing entire waves of chimeras in explosions of burning light.

Still, more creatures emerged endlessly from the torn continent.

Chen Wei inhaled slowly.

The world seemed to pause around him.

Golden radiance flowed along the edge of his sword as his aura sharpened into something impossibly pure. Even the surrounding qi began unraveling under the pressure generated by his stance.

Then he swung.

Judgment Severance erupted across the battlefield.

A gigantic golden cross cleaved through the swarming horde with overwhelming force, stretching from horizon to horizon. Wherever the attack passed, the chimeras’ bodies violently destabilized. Their malformed existence unraveled completely as if denied permission to remain within reality itself. Flesh dissolved into smoke. Bones collapsed into ash. Entire waves vanished instantly beneath the technique.

It was the signature sword art of one of the Holy Emperor’s disciples.

The surviving defenders stared upward in awe at his swordsmanship.

Suddenly, space distorted.

A mirage manifested directly before Chen Wei.

The silver-haired swordsman widened his eyes immediately.

“Uncle?” he called out in disbelief.

Before him stood Da Wei himself.

Or rather, another one of his impossible projections.

The Holy Emperor’s figure flickered faintly as if struggling against interference somewhere far away. Despite that instability, the pressure radiating from him remained overwhelming enough to suppress the surrounding battlefield.

“Nephew!” Da Wei said urgently. “Leave this place to someone else. Protect the Martial Alliance. I will send you there immediately.”

Chen Wei frowned slightly.

“The place I am sending you has been cut off from my perception,” Da Wei warned grimly. “Even I cannot see directly into it anymore. Be careful of sabotage… and lies.”

Before Chen Wei could respond, the world around him twisted violently.

In the next instant, he appeared somewhere else entirely.

The smell of blood hit him immediately.

Below him stretched a massive city carrying the banners of the Martial Alliance. Fires consumed entire districts while cultivators battled one another throughout the streets. Monstrous gray-fleshed creatures rampaged across marketplaces and defensive walls alike, tearing civilians apart amid the chaos.

But that was not what alarmed Chen Wei most.

It was the people killing each other.

Cultivators wearing identical uniforms slaughtered comrades beside them. Alliance soldiers butchered fleeing civilians while screaming accusations of treason. Entire defensive formations had collapsed into infighting.

Chen Wei narrowed his eyes as he unleashed his Divine Sense.

The world transformed instantly within his perception.

Beneath the familiar appearances of countless fighters hid something grotesque. Some figures possessed twisted flesh beneath their human disguises. Others lacked souls entirely. A few radiated the unmistakable corruption of Conquest’s influence.

Pretenders.

Chen Wei vanished.

A single silver flash streaked across the battlefield.

One of the false cultivators froze mid-swing before his head slid cleanly from his shoulders. Black flesh wriggled from the severed neck before dissolving into smoke.

Chen Wei appeared atop a ruined tower as his expression darkened.

Among the Paladins of the Hollowed World, only Davian Lightforge surpassed him in overall power. Yet when it came to perception and sensory abilities, Chen Wei stood unmatched. Illusions, disguises, spiritual distortions? Few could deceive his sight for long.

Suddenly, another force entered the city.

An army carrying the Holy Empire’s banners marched down the central avenue.

Guardians in radiant armor advanced beside disciplined soldiers while civilians screamed in panic at their arrival.

“For the Holy Emperor!” one Guardian roared.

“Purge the traitors!” another shouted.

Then they began slaughtering civilians indiscriminately.

Blood sprayed across the streets as terrified refugees died beneath holy techniques and disciplined formations. At first glance, it appeared as though the Holy Empire itself had descended into madness.

But Chen Wei immediately saw the truth.

“They’re fake,” he muttered coldly.

The false Guardians turned toward him simultaneously.

Chen Wei disappeared again.

Silver swordlight erupted across the avenue.

Heads flew into the air.

Bodies split apart before collapsing into grotesque gray flesh. Some creatures attempted to imitate human screams while others transformed halfway through death into malformed abominations.

None survived.

Chen Wei stood amidst the dissolving corpses as horrified survivors stared at him.

“Do not be fooled by the enemy’s trickery!” he shouted across the burning streets. “Anyone can be impersonated! Verify identities through your souls and not your eyes!”

It was easier said than done, but he had to try.

…

..

.

[POV: Gu Jie]

Meanwhile, far away from the battlefield, Gu Jie stood within an enormous command center overflowing with frantic activity.

The displacement of countless sapient populations throughout the Hollowed World had already pushed entire regions toward collapse. Refugee caravans stretched endlessly across borders while resources dwindled faster each passing day. Riots erupted daily. Starvation spread through overcrowded shelters. Entire governments teetered on the edge of failure.

Yet even those disasters became insignificant compared to what Gu Jie suddenly saw.

Her ocular abilities activated involuntarily.

The future unfolded before her eyes.

She saw layers of existence trembling.

She saw reality itself bending inward.

“The Great Beast,” hissed Gu Jie. “Fuuuuck…”

Its enormous form ignored the outer layers entirely as though they did not exist. Dimensions collapsed around its movement while impossible mouths consumed entire stretches of existence. It was not advancing gradually anymore.

It was prematurely entering the Hollowed World, ignoring the other layers of the Underworld.

Gu Jie’s face lost all color.

“EMERGENCY ALERT!” she screamed throughout the command center. “THE GREAT BEAST HAS BREACHED THE LAYERS!”

The entire room froze.

Operators turned toward her in confusion and horror.

“It ignored the outer dimensional barriers!” Gu Jie shouted desperately. “It’s bypassing the remaining layers completely! IT’S ENTERING OUR WORLD DIRECTLY!”

…

..

.

[POV: Hei Mao]

Within the gap between the Dark Veil and the Hollowed World, an impossible realm continued taking shape.

It was neither fully real nor completely spiritual.

The Spiritual Plane existed as an inverted reflection of civilization itself, a world of eternal night layered beneath reality like a second shadow. Mountains mirrored mountains. Cities mirrored cities. Rivers of ghostly luminescence flowed beneath dark skies where no sun had ever existed. Every fragment of its foundation originated from the Underworld itself. Laws governing death, souls, reincarnation, judgment, memory, and spiritual decay were being forcefully dismantled from their original domains and reconstructed into something entirely new.

And at the center of that impossible undertaking stood Hei Mao.

The young man trembled violently as enormous chains of spiritual authority extended from his body into the distance. Entire dimensions groaned around him while the Eighth Layer of the Underworld slowly shifted under his control, descending into the Hollowed World. The pressure generated by moving even a single layer of the Underworld surpassed what most gods could withstand.

Yet Hei Mao had already moved the Ninth Layer.

Now he was dragging the Eighth.

Black and silver energy erupted continuously around his body as the crown known as Hollow Star hovered above Jue Bu’s head. Quintessence poured endlessly from the artifact into Hei Mao’s meridians, supplied directly by Jue Bu to sustain the impossible process. Even then, cracks had already begun spreading across Hei Mao’s spiritual form. Blood leaked from his eyes while his soul flickered unstably beneath the overwhelming burden.

As the sole Yama King, he possessed the authority necessary to devour the Underworld into the Hollowed World itself.

But possessing authority did not mean the task was survivable.

The former Judges of the Underworld assisted from all sides, desperately stabilizing collapsing laws before entire sections of reality imploded. Some maintained the spiritual boundaries of the emerging plane while others redirected soul currents flowing out of the dismantled layers.

Even they were rapidly reaching their limits.

Jue Bu appeared nearby, his expression unusually grim as he observed the trembling dimensions around them.

“At the rate we are progressing,” he warned quietly, “the Great Beast may reach us before we achieve our objective.”

Hei Mao grit his teeth harder and continued pulling.

The Eighth Layer shifted another fraction.

The Spiritual Plane trembled violently.

Hei Mao paused as an ominous feeling occurred to him. He sensed something familiar nearby. Without hesitation, he descended rapidly through the half-formed spiritual realm until he located a lone figure standing near one of the mirrored cities below.

“Hei Mei,” he called out immediately. “What is the problem? I have been looking for you everywhere.”

His twin sister slowly turned toward him.

Something immediately felt wrong.

Hei Mei’s eyes appeared unfocused while strands of hair clung messily across her pale face. Her breathing sounded uneven, almost panicked, and faint spiritual fluctuations pulsed erratically around her body.

“I’ve been having strange dreams,” she whispered.

Hei Mao frowned.

“And sometimes…” she continued softly, “Yuan Shun surfaces.”

The young man’s expression hardened immediately.

“Yuan Shun is dead,” Hei Mao reminded her firmly.

For a brief moment, silence lingered between them.

Then Hei Mei vanished.

The presence standing before him shifted so abruptly that Hei Mao’s instincts exploded with revulsion. The eyes staring back at him no longer belonged to his sister. Something inside him twisted violently with rage and disgust, accompanied by an overwhelming urge to destroy whoever dared violate Hei Mei this way.

He would never forgive this woman.

Never.

The figure before him slowly smiled bitterly.

“I am indeed dead,” Yuan Shun said quietly, speaking through Hei Mei’s body, “but something is pulling me back—”

Her voice abruptly stopped.

Horror overtook her expression.

Hei Mao immediately turned.

The vast darkness beside the Spiritual Plane exploded outward.

An enormous paw burst downward from from the night sky.

The impact shattered entire sections of the unfinished plane as dimensional fractures spread everywhere. Spiritual mountains collapsed instantly while mirrored cities crumbled into oceans of ghostly debris.

Then the Great Beast forced its way inside.

Reality screamed.

Seven colossal heads emerged from beneath existence itself, each large enough to eclipse continents. Their malformed jaws stretched endlessly while countless eyes opened across their flesh. Merely witnessing the creature caused laws to destabilize around it.

And every single head turned toward Yuan Shun.

“It’s that thing,” Yuan Shun whispered in terror. “It wants me.”

A Judge rushed toward them frantically from the distance.

“Report from the command center!” he shouted desperately. “The Great Beast has breached—”

Then he stopped.

The Judge stared upward at the abomination towering above the Spiritual Plane.

Even he lost the ability to speak.

The Great Beast roared.

Entire sections of the unfinished realm collapsed immediately beneath the sound.

Jue Bu appeared directly before Hei Mao, his robes fluttering violently from the pressure radiating outward.

“I will buy you time,” he said calmly. “Go.”

The instant those words left Jue Bu’s mouth, the world distorted violently.

Hei Mao, Yuan Shun, and the surrounding Judges were forcibly expelled from the Spiritual Plane itself. The transition struck like a collapsing universe, and within the next breath they crashed back onto the surface of the Hollowed World.

The night sky stretched overhead.

Mountains surrounded them.

And Yuan Shun vanished instantly.

Hei Mei’s body staggered forward weakly before collapsing directly against Hei Mao’s shoulder. Confusion filled her expression as though awakening from a terrible nightmare.

“Brother…” she muttered weakly. “What happened?”