Immortal Paladin

054 Killing Time

Okay, it was just you and me, Ren Jingyi.

The goldfish swam lazily in her bowl, flicking her tail with an air of utter disinterest. I’d like to believe we had a bond, but in reality, I was probably just the giant who occasionally gave her lettuce.

I sat cross-legged beside her, idly tapping a finger against the rim of the bowl. I had imagined my training arc happening in some secluded mountain—testing out techniques, pushing the limits of my abilities, discovering some ridiculous overpowered trick that would let me transcend common sense.

Instead, here I was, staring at a goldfish in the middle of a desert oasis.

“Alright,” I muttered, setting the bowl aside. “Time for science.”

First test—Voice Chat.

I focused and directed my intent toward Ren Jingyi. If this world had a spiritual connection between beast companions and their masters, then there should be some way for us to communicate telepathically.

Silence.

I tried again.

Nothing.

Ren Jingyi blew a tiny stream of bubbles.

“…Yeah, what was I expecting?” I sighed, shaking my head. That would’ve been too easy.

Fine. Time for Plan B.

I closed my eyes and activated Divine Possession.

For a moment, my perspective twisted, my mind zeroing in—shifting, transferring—until suddenly… I was a fish.

Water surrounded me, muffled and heavy, my movements sluggish yet effortless. My fins twitched, adjusting to the alien sensation of buoyancy.

I turned—or at least, thought I did—and found myself looking up at my body.

It was a strange sight. I stood there, completely still, like an abandoned puppet with the strings cut. Eyes open, blank, devoid of any presence.

Huh. That was… weird.

I activated Voice Chat, directing my thoughts toward the holy spirit still inside my body.

“Hey, Dave, you there?”

A beat of silence. Then, his voice rang in my mind, calm and unbothered.

“Yes, Lord.”

Man… You almost scared me. Good. At least that part worked.

“Can you detect anything strange with Divine Sense?” I asked.

“Negative.”

I considered my next move.

“Alright, cultivate Hollow Breath Technique while I do the same.”

“Understood.”

With that settled, I focused inward, attempting to guide Ren Jingyi’s qi. It was… strange. Unfamiliar. My meridians were completely different—simpler, smaller, yet somehow clearer. Instead of raw power, there was a delicate balance, a natural flow of energy that was far more precise than what I was used to.

As I sank deeper into the meditation, I felt something… knock at the back of my mind.

A small, faint presence.

Weak, but undeniably there.

Ren Jingyi.

She wasn’t just a fish. There was something inside her—a tiny spark of wisdom. Not quite sentience, but not mere instinct either.

I focused on the feeling.

Confidence.

Comfort.

A sense of belonging.

Huh.

So that was what it felt like to be Ren Jingyi.

I had been meditating inside Ren Jingyi’s body for about an hour when I made a shocking discovery.

She had more talent than me.

It wasn’t even close.

I remembered running Hollow Breath Technique—slow, steady, deliberate. Yet, no matter how I adjusted my control, it felt painfully sluggish. Meanwhile, Ren Jingyi was processing qi like she had been doing it for centuries. Her tiny goldfish meridians cycled the technique with an ease that I could only describe as unfair.

I refused to believe it at first.

Maybe it was just a difference in scale.

To test it, I contacted Dave again.

“Compare your progress to the fish, while performing the Hollow Breath Technique.”

A brief pause. Then, his response came.

“Ren Jingyi is processing qi at a superior efficiency. Lord, she is significantly more talented at this than you.”

Than us. You mean than us, right?

I sighed.

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“Yeah. Figured.”

I had just been outclassed by a goldfish.

Alright. Next phase.

Please don’t die on me, goldfish.

I mentally gave Dave the signal, and in the next moment, my vision shifted. The cool embrace of water surrounded me as I sank into the oasis. Tiny bubbles escaped my gills—because I had gills now. Weird feeling.

I swam a little near the surface, adjusting to the new sensation.

Comfortable.

I flicked my tail and shot forward, testing Flash Step. The world blurred as I propelled myself at unnatural speed. No explosion. No sudden combustion of goldfish guts. Good.

Flash Step was a martial skill, part of the Martial Path. It didn’t require special energy types—just movement fundamentals and mana. That meant it should’ve worked regardless of my body.

I pushed it further.

I activated Zealot’s Stride.

Golden streaks of light trailed behind me as I cut through the water. It felt... effortless.

No complications.

I was an overpowered fish.

I darted through the oasis, twisting and looping with reckless abandon, moving faster than any goldfish had a right to. For a moment, I wasn’t training—I was playing. It was fun.

But all good things had a time limit.

As Divine Possession’s duration ticked down, I made my way back to the fishbowl. Dave, ever the reliable holy spirit, had cleaned it while I was busy. I thanked him and returned to my original body.

My limbs tingled as I reoriented myself.

I turned to Ren Jingyi, my trusty goldfish.

Out of sheer curiosity, I studied her with Divine Sense.

And then I felt my eye twitch.

The fish—without me inside her—was automatically performing Hollow Breath Technique.

And she was doing it better than I ever had.

I stared at her.

I sighed.

“Okay. I give up. The goldfish is more talented than me.”

Morning arrived, dragging the desert heat along with it.

The others stirred awake, groaning as they suffered under the relentless sun.

I, on the other hand, had already adjusted. Unlike them, I had spent my night in relative peace, pondering the alarming realization that my goldfish was more talented than me. A thought best left unspoken.

I joined the group inside the boat, where the formations shielded us from the worst of the heat. As soon as I sat in my corner, I pulled out a book and flipped to where I last left off.

Ren Xun sat across from me, writing in what I assumed was his journal. Gu Jie was cultivating.

Then there was Lu Gao.

He walked over to me, his expression serious.

I set my book down and met his gaze. Here we go.

“What’s the problem?” I asked.

He didn’t beat around the bush. “I know it is not my place to ask, but why?”

“What do you mean?”

“Take me in?”

That was... one way to put it.

I wasn’t great at lying. I was especially bad at it when it came to things I was uncomfortable with. If I even attempted to twist the truth, I’d probably screw myself over.

So I gave him an honest answer.

“I wanted your memories of your time with the demon Brukhelm,” I said. “And I wanted to use you as a reference to build on my own cultivation.”

There was more to it than that, but I didn’t feel the need to explain it all.

Lu Gao studied me for a moment. Then, to my mild surprise, he looked relieved.

He gave a small nod, walked back to his corner, and resumed meditating.

I picked up my book again.

Well, that went better than expected.

We passed the day however we could.

Ren Xun and Gu Jie cultivated in silence, occasionally shifting their posture or adjusting their breathing. Lu Gao, having little else to do, found himself stuck in the strange in-between of boredom and forced patience.

I tossed him a book. “Here. Might help you kill time.”

He accepted them without complaint, flipping through the pages with vague interest.

Meanwhile, I kept my nose buried in my own books, reading as I waited for my Divine Possession cooldown to reset. My little experiment last night had been… enlightening in the worst possible way.

Ren Jingyi, my goldfish, had more talent in cultivation than I did.

The thought still made my eye twitch.

At one point, I was tempted—and I mean really tempted—to use the Legacy Advancement Book on her. Just to see what would happen.

But that felt irresponsible. And unfair.

Sure, it was one hell of an interesting experiment, but still. There had to be some kind of universal rule against using high-grade cultivation resources on pet fish.

Eventually, lunchtime rolled around.

I pulled out food from my Item Box—which, by all means, was a top-tier fridge in its own right.

Thanks to the Grand Feast, I had enough stock to last us for quite a while. Meats, rice, stews, and even desserts, all perfectly preserved. I distributed the meals among the group, the rich aroma filling the air.

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of eating.

Yep. This was life.

If I wasn’t reading my books, I was contemplating my skills, thinking about which ones to prioritize and train.

There was too much to consider. My combat abilities were decent, but there was always room for improvement. And then there was Ren Jingyi.

I’m kind of proud of the goldfish. It wasn’t just about her talent—there was potential there. A test subject, a reference, maybe even something to model my own training after.

Then, a sudden thought struck me.

I turned to Ren Xun. “Hey, what do you know about the demonic beasts of the Evernight Continent?” Just checking, because I didn’t think the oasis would be so safe if a demonic beast once for a while would come here to drink, right?

He glanced up from his journal, immediately understanding where I was coming from. “You’re thinking about the oasis, aren’t you?”

I nodded.

He closed his journal and leaned back, arms crossed. “The oasis should be safe. The demonic beasts of the Evernight Continent aren’t really big on water. Evernight is filled with undead and shadow creatures instead. They thrive in darkness, but water… not so much. It’s not exactly their ideal terrain.”

That made sense.

The Evernight Continent wasn’t like other places. Where most lands had spirit beasts, monsters, and the occasional ancient horror, Evernight was an entirely different beast. There wasn’t much told in the books I’ve been perusing, regarding this continent.

This gave Evernight an air of mystery.

Still, the information gave me some reassurance.

The oasis was safe.

I guessed there was no harm playing around it.

Night came, and with it, an opportunity.

I gathered Lu Gao and Gu Jie, explaining my next experiment. “I need your help. I’ll be using Divine Possession on you both to test something. As its name suggest, it has something to do with body possession.”

I expected hesitation. Maybe even resistance.

Lu Gao had, after all, been possessed by a demon before. If anyone had a reason to be wary, it was him. But instead of recoiling, he only nodded. “I’d be honored.”

That… was unexpected.

Still, I wasn’t about to just take that at face value. I glanced at him, then at Gu Jie. “Are you sure? I need you to really think about this. Divine Possession isn’t demonic in nature, but it’s close enough in concept. If either of you is uncomfortable with it, we drop the idea now.”

Ren Xun, who had been watching from the sidelines, finally spoke. “You’re sure it’s not a demonic technique?”

I looked him in the eye. “No corruption, no backlash, and I don’t leave any influence behind once the possession ends.”

That seemed to satisfy him. Ren Xun was a righteous young man I could get along. It wasn’t like he’d be participating in this experiment, but he still asked.

Gu Jie was unfazed. “Then it’s fine. I chose to follow you, Master. I trust you.”

Hearing that from her carried a weight I wasn’t sure I deserved.

I took a deep breath. Before we started, I recited the flavor text of the technique. Full disclosure.

Clearing my throat, I spoke:

"To seize the body is to seize the self. To walk another’s path is to know their truth. For a moment, the soul is unbound, freed from the chains of its own flesh, given wings to fly into another. But beware—the self is fragile. To linger too long is to forget the shape of one’s own soul. To possess is to risk being possessed in turn."

A solemn silence settled over us.

“That’s Divine Possession.”

Since refining my Divine Sense, analyzing how lacking Brukhelm had been in our fight, and my discussions with Jiang Zhen, I had realized something.

I had been reckless with Divine Possession.

It wasn’t just a convenient ability I could use without thought. The deeper I studied cultivation, the more I understood how much of myself I risked every time I used my skills.

My skills had flavor, a theme—one I had to be mindful of.

If there was something I could test in a controlled environment, I’d rather do it now than be forced to use it blindly in a life-or-death battle.

Honestly, I’ve been lucky with Brukhelm.

I exhaled and looked at the two of them. “Last chance to back out.”

Gu Jie answered, “I owe my life to you, Master.”

Lu Gao said the same.

I studied them for a moment, then nodded. Raising a single finger, I uttered in a quiet voice—

"Divine Possession."