Immortal Paladin

[POV: Da Wei]

I spoke to Nongmin inside his mind through Ophanim, leaving our companions frozen in time. This was a sensitive matter, and I preferred to discuss it privately without risking anyone else overhearing us.

The Supreme Heart was the Yellow Emperor, and he’d stolen Nongmin’s Supremacy Trait. In doing so, he’d stolen a fundamental part of Nongmin’s existence and perverted the natural order.

It wouldn’t have been an exaggeration to say that Nongmin and the Yellow Emperor were the same person, despite how contradictory that sounded. After all, the former was the son of the latter.

A Supremacy Trait was the defining characteristic of every Supreme Being, but it was also a fundamental component of their existence. Something I’d learned from Ding Cai’s display was that Supremacy Traits usually remained dormant. Everyone possessed one, or at least the potential to manifest one, but few ever learned how to express it. As a practitioner grew stronger, they could gradually discover their Supremacy Trait and exert its influence upon reality.

Ding Cai had accomplished precisely that, so I had little reason to doubt the principle.

Those who lived on Earth, the Source, were enlightened souls, even if most of them remained unaware of it because of their mortality. That was why every person summoned from the Source possessed a Supremacy Trait.

The Yellow Emperor had simply taken the easy way out. Rather than attaining enlightenment himself, he’d practically stolen someone else’s.

Nongmin’s thoughts reached me.

“The Yellow Emperor summoned me into this world by incarnating me through his bloodline. In the process, he stole my Supremacy Trait and left me without the memories I would otherwise have possessed of Earth. The person I am today exists because I never had those memories.”

He paused, contemplating the implications.

“A person’s soul is immutable. Even if it’s thoroughly destroyed through mystical means, it will go somewhere, and its fundamental properties won’t change. That’s why certain individuals can display qualities inherited from their past lives, even when they have no memories of them. But what happens when a person doesn’t have a soul?”

“But you have a soul,” I argued.

“It’s not a question of existence, but expression,” Nongmin replied.

He was smart enough to understand where I was going with this. I wanted him to reclaim his Supremacy Trait.

I had no idea what consequences recovering it would bring. Would it restore his lost memories? Would it change his personality? Would the Nongmin I knew remain himself, or would he be overwritten by something older and far more powerful? I couldn’t answer any of those questions with certainty.

Nevertheless, I believed this was the only way we could move forward without wasting any more time. The Hollowed World could be burning to the ground at that very moment, and we wouldn’t even know it.

“Tell me, Da Wei,” Nongmin asked, his thoughts heavy with uncertainty. “How much of me will remain if I recover my Supremacy Trait? Will Nongmin still be able to express himself afterward?”

“I don’t know.”

“You possess special eyes that can see so much of the universe and unravel its mysteries, yet you don’t know.” He sighed. “Those eyes of yours seem to cause more trouble than they’re worth. Perhaps you should pluck them out and cast them into the sea, then take mine instead.”

I grimaced at his sarcasm.

“Da Wei, you’re becoming impatient,” he continued. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“Nothing that comes to mind. Just think about it.”

I decided to back down. I’d struck a nerve, and pressing him any further wouldn’t help.

It was inevitable that Nongmin would feel this way. He was still human, after all. Since shedding his inhuman aspects, he’d finally managed to live with some measure of dignity and normalcy. Now, I was asking him to risk losing all of that with a single decision. I could understand why he was afraid.

But understanding his concerns didn’t change our circumstances. It was my responsibility to make things happen, and we’d already sacrificed too much to let our progress come to a halt. We couldn’t afford to lose.

I withdrew from Nongmin’s mind, and time resumed its normal flow.

I pushed the Asura Spoke toward him.

“Seal this for me,” I said. I couldn’t think of anyone better suited for the job.

Nongmin sighed before retrieving his tools from his bag of holding. He’d managed to replicate a pocket dimension within the Tower by weaving spatial arrays into a special material synthesized from Ru Qiu’s hair. Since Ru Qiu’s Supremacy Trait allowed him to manipulate gravity, Nongmin had used that property as the foundation for his invention.

Ru Qiu, naturally, had insisted on naming it himself.

And so, the bag of holding was born.

I watched Nongmin work as he laid the linen flat and began inscribing a formation array upon it. He carefully stitched patterns made from Ru Qiu’s hair into the fabric, incorporating them into the spatial formation. The process required considerable precision, and he worked with the concentration of a craftsman handling a delicate instrument.

NovelPhoenix hosts the author’s chapter, yet this version was reproduced without consent; visiting the publication supports the writer.

Nongmin had been tinkering with spatial formations for as long as I could remember. His grand library had one, as had the research facility he’d built during his days as an emperor. Even the house that could transform into a flying ship incorporated similar principles. He’d created one technological marvel after another, and it was astonishing how far he’d progressed without possessing the meta-quality associated with beings summoned from the Source.

When he finished, he wrapped the spoke in the linen. The formation activated, and the entire bundle shrank until it was no larger than my thumb.

He held it out to me. “Here.”

“Keep it safe for me,” I said, pushing it back.

Nongmin stared at me, visibly annoyed. “It’ll be safer with you.”

He clearly understood the danger associated with the spoke. Even if few people knew what it was or understood its true value, carrying such an object would make its possessor a potential target. If the wrong people discovered what I had, they might come after me to claim it.

I sighed, took the tiny bundle, and slipped it into my pocket.

Just then, the climbers Nongmin had hired returned. Their leader, an older man, walked into the room with a satisfied expression.

“The job is complete,” he reported.

Nongmin rose from his seat. “Good. Lead the way.”

We left the safehouse, climbed into a jeep, and drove toward the location where the rest of the storyline was unfolding. After traveling for some time, we arrived at a set of ancient ruins.

The place was crawling with climbers.

A large group was busy butchering monsters and collecting the loot they dropped. Some carried weapons covered in blood, while others sorted through the spoils, placing their finds into bags and containers. Judging by the sheer number of people present, this was far more than a small team clearing a dungeon.

Tao Long looked around in surprise. “Why are there so many of them?”

“I hired an entire guild,” Nongmin explained. “The four people we met earlier were merely the intermediaries and the lead operators responsible for coordinating the whole operation. They weren’t the only ones doing the work.”

That explained the discrepancy. Nongmin hadn’t been relying on four climbers to complete an entire storyline. He’d hired an organization capable of handling it from beginning to end, leaving the four we’d met to manage the operation and keep us informed.

Nongmin turned to the older man. “Thank you for your work.”

He handed him a bag of holding as payment.

The man accepted it with a polite smile. “It’s been a pleasure doing business with you.”

With that, he and the other climbers returned to their work, leaving us to proceed on our own.

Nongmin led us deeper into the ruins. We passed through several corridors and chambers before eventually reaching a room with a flight of stairs descending into darkness.

Except the space at the bottom didn’t look like an underground chamber.

Through the opening, I could see what appeared to be another urban area, complete with buildings and streets. The transition was so abrupt that it felt as though someone had connected two entirely different worlds with a staircase.

I had seen stranger things in the Tower, but that didn’t make the sight any less unsettling.

Ru Qiu stepped forward, looking impatient. “Let’s go.”

“Take care of yourself, N’wa,” Hei Mei said, her expression unusually solemn. “I know you’ve made up your mind, and I won’t try to change it. Still, you’d better not neglect yourself while you’re busy fixing your world. You have a habit of shouldering everything alone, and I don’t want you to forget that you can ask others for help. If anyone gives you trouble, deal with them however you see fit. Just don’t let yourself get hurt in the process, understand?”

Hei Mei reached out and gently patted N’wa’s head, her manner more like that of a concerned elder sister than the aloof woman I was accustomed to seeing.

N’wa smiled. “I will. Thank you for worrying about me, Hei Mei. I’ll take your words to heart, and I hope you’ll stay safe as well. May your journey be blessed, and may you find the answers you’re looking for.”

Tao Long stepped forward next, wearing his usual mischievous grin.

“Look at you, all grown up and ready to take responsibility for an entire organization. I suppose we should be proud.” He chuckled before giving her a playful nudge. “But don’t get too full of yourself. If you run into trouble, remember that you can always call for help. And if anyone tries to bully you, make sure you bully them back twice as hard. You’ve got the eyes for it.”

“Tao Long,” N’wa said with a helpless laugh, “I’m not going to solve every problem by bullying people.”

“Then you’ll have to learn. The world is full of unreasonable people.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me. I hope your journey goes smoothly, and may blessings accompany you wherever you go.”

“That’s the spirit!” Tao Long replied, clearly pleased with himself.

Nongmin approached her last. Unlike Tao Long, he didn’t tease her or offer any grand advice. Instead, he regarded her with the quiet concern of an uncle preparing to leave his niece behind.

“You’ve got a difficult road ahead of you,” he said. “The organization I’ve entrusted to you won’t be easy to manage, and making meaningful changes to the False Earth will take more than good intentions. You’ll need patience, judgment, and the ability to recognize when a problem is beyond your reach. Don’t be afraid to take your time. There’s no point in rushing into something you aren’t ready for.”

“I understand,” N’wa replied.

“And remember, you don’t have to accomplish everything by yourself. I’ve left you with the resources and connections you’ll need to get started. Use them wisely, and don’t hesitate to reach out if you need anything else.”

N’wa lowered her head, visibly moved. “Thank you, Nongmin. You’ve given me so much, even though I haven’t always known how to repay your kindness. I’ll do my best to honor the trust you’ve placed in me. I won’t promise that I’ll succeed in everything I attempt, but I promise that I’ll keep trying. I hope you and the others will find what you’re searching for beyond this floor. May you be protected from misfortune, may your strength carry you through every trial, and may blessings follow you on the road ahead. I’ll pray for your safe return, wherever your journey takes you.”

Nongmin smiled faintly. “That’s all I can ask for.”

After exchanging their farewells, my companions began moving toward the stairs. I remained behind for a little longer, wanting a moment alone with N’wa before we parted ways.

“Thank you,” I told her. “For your grace, your patience, and the trust you’ve shown me, even when you had every reason to doubt me. I know the things you’ve been through haven’t been easy, and I appreciate that you’ve given me the chance to help you understand them.”

N’wa listened quietly, her seven-hued eyes reflecting the light around us.

“There’s one thing I’ve been meaning to ask you,” I continued. “Do you still think of me as an Evil God?”

She smiled, the expression carrying a warmth I hadn’t expected.

“Why don’t you go and find out for yourself?” she replied. “Your companions are waiting.”

“That sounds suspiciously like an evasion.”

“Then perhaps you should stop asking questions you already know I won’t answer.”

I laughed. There wasn’t much else I could say to that.

I turned and began walking toward the stairs, following the others without looking back. N’wa had chosen to remain on the first floor, while the rest of us would continue our climb. We were heading in different directions now, each of us carrying our own responsibilities and uncertain futures.

I had taken only a few steps when N’wa called after me.

“Da Wei!”

I stopped but didn’t turn around.

“I don’t think you’re an Evil God anymore!” she declared.

I couldn’t help smiling.

“However,” she added, “I’m reserving judgment on whether you’re a good person.”

That drew a genuine laugh from me. I waved her off and continued down the stairs, leaving her behind without another word.

Some farewells were better left that way. We had said what needed to be said, and there was no reason to make our parting any more difficult than it already was.