Immortal Paladin

010 A Commoner’s Wisdom

I narrowed my eyes at the fragile paper scoop in my hand. The thin net quivered as I dipped it into the water, aiming for a goldfish drifting lazily in the tank. My movements were precise, calculated. I was a Paladin, damn it. My reflexes were honed beyond mortal limits, my body refined to perfection.

And yet—

Rip.

The moment I lifted the net, the delicate paper tore as if mocking me.

I stared at the water in silence, watching the goldfish swim away unbothered. My scoop was now nothing more than a useless metal ring.

The old man running the stall let out a wheezing laugh, his grin smug. “Hah! Another one down!”

I exhaled slowly, resisting the urge to snap the wooden handle in my grip. No. I wasn’t some reckless fool throwing a tantrum over a festival game. I had patience. Skill.

And yet, here I was—losing.

I glanced at the old man, his arms crossed as he leaned lazily against the counter. “Give up yet, boy?”

I snorted and reached for another scoop. “Not a chance.” This was the best chance I have of mastering my stats, not to mention improve my control.

The moment the net touched the water, the goldfish scattered as if they had sensed my intent.

I paused.

Could they sense me?

My eyes narrowed. These weren’t ordinary fish, were they? Had this old man trained them? Were they spirit creatures disguised as common festival prizes?

I adjusted my grip and made another attempt.

Rip.

Another failure.

The stall owner let out a snort, shaking his head. “That’s six now. Maybe you should quit before you waste all your coin.”

I stared at the tiny fish, their soulless little eyes brimming with mockery.

This game was rigged.

By all logic, I should have had the advantage. My cultivation had refined my body beyond human limits. I could move faster than the eye could see, snatch them barehanded, and be done with it.

But I wasn’t going to cheat.

I had my pride.

Moreover, this was training.

Even if it meant losing to a bunch of smug, slippery fish.

With a sigh, I tossed the broken scoop onto the counter. “Fine. You win.”

The old man grinned, throwing his arms up like he had just conquered an empire. “Hah! I told you! Now go home, sore loser!”

I took a slow, deep breath. Let it go. Let it go.

I had endured countless tribulations, battled fierce cultivators, even survived transmigrating to this absurd world. And yet—

I had been defeated by an old man and his cursed goldfish.

Truly, there was always a higher mountain.

If I were some brutish barbarian, a savage orc, or an unrighteous cultivator with no regard for consequence, this old man would have been soaring across the festival grounds by now. Perhaps his stall as well. Maybe even his entire livelihood.

But no.

I was civilized. Honorable. Benevolent.

With the restraint befitting a Paladin, I tossed the tattered remnants of my paper scoop onto the counter. “You win.”

The old man’s grin was so smug, I nearly reconsidered my stance on casting Holy Smite upon the unworthy.

Instead, I turned on my heel and strode away before I did something that might require divine absolution.

As I wove through the festival streets, the irritation faded. The night air pulsed with life—laughter, music, the distant pop of fireworks. Street performers balanced on stilts, others breathed fire, while merchants bellowed over each other to sell their wares.

Then—

A small figure darted into my path.

“Sir! Sir! Take one!”

A child shoved a colorful flyer into my hands before scampering off to ambush the next passerby.

I raised a brow and unfolded it.

Yellow Dragon City’s Grand Festival Itinerary

Day 1: Welcoming the honorable guests from the sects and clans.

Day 2: Elimination Round hosted by the City Governor for the dueling event.

Day 3: Dueling Event - Best 8.

Day 4: Quarter Finals.

Day 5: Semi-Finals.

Day 6: Grand Finals.

Day 7: Grand Feast.

Wait… a damn minute…

Best eight?

“Am I getting my math wrong?”

Meh…

Maybe there was a gimmick in the event.

So… this was a seven-day affair.

Hmmm….

No wonder the city was overflowing with cultivators. This wasn’t just a festival—it was a battleground for the young elites, a stage for them to display their strength, claim glory, and perhaps even attract powerful patrons.

I tapped a finger against the flyer. The elimination round was tomorrow. If I wanted to watch, I had until today to secure a ticket.

…Where did one even buy a ticket for this sort of thing?

“Senior, have some.”

I barely stopped myself from flinching.

Gu Jie had appeared at my side, silent as a shadow. I hadn’t noticed her approach at all.

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

That was... unsettling.

She matched my pace without a word, holding out two sticks of tanghulu—glossy, candied hawthorn skewered in a neat row. She offered one to me without hesitation.

I took it.

So she had taken my earlier words to heart. My casual remark about enjoying the festival—she had taken it as a direct command.

I bit into the tanghulu. The shell cracked, giving way to the tart sweetness inside. Not bad.

My gaze flickered toward Gu Jie. She was still holding her own skewer, hesitating.

I wasn’t fond of followers.

Even as a Paladin, I had always preferred solitude. In the past, I relished duels—one-on-one combat, no need to rely on allies, no waiting on teammates to fumble, no unnecessary entanglements.

But this wasn’t a game.

This world had no respawns. Probably.

Perhaps having an ally or two wouldn’t be the worst idea.

I chewed thoughtfully. “And the other errand?”

Gu Jie straightened, though there was a flicker of nervousness in her eyes. “The books? I will retrieve them from an acquaintance the day after tomorrow.”

She fidgeted slightly.

That was… unexpected.

For someone as sharp as Gu Jie, a simple book purchase shouldn’t have made her this skittish.

I cast her a sidelong glance.

Something was on her mind.

So I asked plainly, “What’s on your mind?”

Gu Jie hesitated for the briefest moment before replying, “Haven’t caught up on your name, Senior.”

Ah. So that was it.

I chewed the last of my tanghulu, then answered, “David. My name is David.”

Gu Jie blinked. “Huh?”

I smirked, recalling Liang Na’s earlier butchering of my name. Might as well lean into it.

“But you can call me Da Wei.”

Gu Jie pursed her lips, as if testing the name in her mind. Then, to my mild surprise, she asked, “Can I call you Master?”

I shrugged. “Whatever floats your boat.”

Her lips curled into a small smile. “Thank you, Master.”

And then—she looked up at me.

Her head tilted ever so slightly, dark lashes framing her gaze, her brown eyes holding the faintest sheen of warmth. A picture-perfect display of obedience, as if trying to appear endearing.

…Yeah, no. Not buying it.

I knew better than to lower my guard. Xianxia stories had taught me that a situation like this only led to one of two possibilities:

A treacherous beauty with hidden motives.A Type-1 dumbass heroine whose only purpose was to make the protagonist look good.Unfortunately, both scenarios required me to be a protagonist. And I had no interest in that role.

Still, I was a Paladin before anything else. And if there was one thing I tried to do, it was see the good in people.

Besides, Gu Jie was only human.

The sickly pallor she once had was fading now that she was eating properly. Her ragged hair had been cut and washed, falling smoothly over her shoulders. The dark robes she wore—subtly embroidered with golden dragons—made her look like a cultivator of a proper sect.

She looked the part.

But in the end, she was just a person. Not some nameless bandit barely surviving on scraps.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “Go buy me a ticket for the dueling event tomorrow.”

Gu Jie’s eyes sharpened slightly, but she nodded. “Yes, Master.”

Without another word, she turned and slipped into the festival crowd, vanishing as easily as a shadow at dusk.

I watched her go.

She was only a First Realm cultivator, but she had survived this long. That meant she had skills—ones I had yet to see. Keeping her at my side had its advantages.

And I wasn’t joking when I decided to rehabilitate at least this one bandit.

Consider it a side quest.

I wandered through the festival streets, taking in the preparations, letting my thoughts drift. Eventually, my steps led me near a small eatery.

A young server, dressed in simple robes, was slumped against the wall, clearly on a break.

I stepped closer. “Care to earn a quick coin while still being able to rest?”

The server cracked an eye open, looking me over with suspicion. “Sounds too good to be true.”

I flipped a copper coin into the air and caught it. “Depends on how much you like talking.”

The server straightened slightly, interest piqued. “I’m listening.”

I sat down on a nearby bench, stretching out comfortably. "I just need some local information. What’s happening with the festival? Who’s in charge? Any interesting rumors?"

The server sighed, rolling his shoulders. "Hah… so you’re one of those outsiders trying to get a leg up, huh?"

I smiled. "Something like that."

Truthfully, I wasn’t completely satisfied with what I’d learned from Gu Jie. There were too many gaps in my knowledge.

I had taken her in, but that didn’t mean I trusted her yet. She was still in a probationary period, and while I liked to see the good in people, a little caution never hurt anyone.

More importantly, I needed to verify what she had told me.

"For a coin, I’ll tell you what I know," the server said, rubbing his chin.

I flipped the copper coin in my palm before flicking it toward him. He caught it mid-air with the ease of someone used to handling money.

"Alright," he said, rubbing his thumb over the coin. "Ask away."

I leaned back. "What do you know about cultivators?"

The server scoffed, shaking his head. "Same as anywhere else, I suppose. Cultivators are like gods. People revere them, fear them, and avoid them when possible. They can summon storms with a flick of their hands and tear apart mountains like it's nothing."

I hummed in acknowledgment. "And cultivation realms?"

His expression blanked. "Cultivation realms?"

"Yeah. How strong they get, what their ranks are—things like that."

The server frowned, clearly out of his depth. "Beats me. I’m just a commoner. All I know is that the stronger they get, the less they bother with folks like us."

That was… disappointing.

I had hoped to cross-examine Gu Jie’s information, but it seemed that cultivation knowledge was vague and scarce among the common folk. Even a city-dweller had no clue.

If he was this uninformed, then most people probably were as well.

What a bummer.

I exhaled, shifting my approach. "How about more mundane things, then?"

"Depends on what you mean by mundane," the server replied.

I smirked. "Let’s start simple—what’s the name of this continent?"

He raised a brow, eyeing me like I was an idiot. "You a lost foreigner or something?"

"Something like that."

He shrugged. "Riverfall Continent."

Good. Now I wouldn’t sound like a fool when someone else mentioned it.

"And this city? Who rules it?"

"The City Governor, of course," he said, rubbing his temples. "You really ain’t from around here, huh?"

"Indulge me."

The server sighed before continuing, "Our City Governor is an imperial prince sent by the Empire. They say this city thrives because of his wisdom. Trade, roads, even this festival—it’s all under his rule."

An imperial prince?

That was a crucial piece of information. It meant that while the city prospered, it wasn’t independent.

I leaned forward slightly. "And this Empire… it’s the strongest force in Riverfall?"

The server chuckled. "If it wasn’t, we’d be ruled by someone else, wouldn’t we?"

Fair enough.

While his perspective was limited, he made up for it with honesty and insight. This kind of information might not have been groundbreaking, but it was practical—and practical knowledge kept people alive.

I gave him a nod. "Appreciate the chat."

The server grinned, pocketing his coin. "Anytime. Just don’t go asking around about cultivators too much. Folk might think you’re looking for trouble."

Noted.

I wandered through the festival streets, weaving between stalls and the chattering crowd. The scent of sizzling meat and spiced wine drifted through the air, mingling with the distant clang of a blacksmith’s hammer and the occasional burst of laughter.

I had spent the last hour repeating the same thing—asking around, gathering bits and pieces of information, and confirming what I already knew. But with each conversation, a nagging thought settled in the back of my mind.

What exactly did I want out of this life?

Survival was the obvious answer. I wasn’t some protagonist hell-bent on reaching the peak of cultivation or carving my name into the annals of history. But survival alone felt... hollow. Even if I aimed to go home, that was still an uncertain goal. For all I knew, there was no way back.

So what did that leave me with?

I stepped aside as a group of children rushed past, waving toy swords and shouting about legendary heroes and demon kings. Their excitement was infectious, and for a brief moment, I saw a familiar reflection of my past self in them.

Hmmm… I suppose I should try a hand in PvE and role-playing in general.

Doing Paladin things.

Maybe that was enough.

I wasn’t about to throw myself into some righteous crusade, but I could at least hold onto my values in this strange world. Play my role properly. If everything around me changed, then I would remain the same. A Paladin was meant to protect, to stand for something greater than themselves.

Yeah. That seemed like a fine goal to follow.

At the very least, I wasn’t aimless.

“Master?”

I snapped out of my thoughts. Gu Jie had returned, standing beside me as if she had never left. If I hadn’t already been growing accustomed to her quiet movements, I might have flinched.

I glanced at her. “Got the ticket?”

She nodded and held out a small, rectangular token, engraved with flowing characters. “For tomorrow’s dueling event.”

I took it, running my thumb over its surface. The craftsmanship was surprisingly refined, the edges smoothed and the engravings deep and clear. No doubt it was enchanted in some way to prevent counterfeiting.

Gu Jie studied my expression. “Is something troubling you, Master?”

I exhaled, pocketing the ticket. “Not really. Just thinking.”

She hesitated, then spoke cautiously. “If I may ask… about what?”

I chuckled. “The meaning of life.”

She blinked, then frowned, clearly not sure if I was being serious. “That is... a difficult topic.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, stretching my arms. “Figured I’d start small.”

She gave me a strange look but didn’t press further. Instead, she changed the subject. “Would you like to find a place to stay for the night? I have some recommendations.”

Right. Lodging. That was another thing to take care of.

I nodded. “Lead the way.”

As she guided me through the city, my thoughts drifted back to my earlier musings.

A Paladin, huh?

I could live with that.