Immortal Paladin

212 Not Home

I fell. My breath caught as I stared at the sky, dazed and trembling. This wasn’t a mistake or some trick of perception. Through both my Divine Sense and the Destiny Seeking Eyes, I could feel the Sun… not merely burning, but watching as if it were alive...

"I... don't like this..."

Never had I read about a heavenly tribulation manifesting as a giant-sized fireball plummeting to earth. No stories, no memories, and no hallucinations could prepare me for that. Perhaps I was an isolated case… an aberration among cultivators. But I doubted it. Someone had created that fireball. Laws had been intricately woven into the heart of that inferno, a cosmic design that combined tribulation and karmic flame. This wasn’t nature’s wrath. It was deliberate punishment.

My soul still burned. It sizzled beneath my skin, even as I survived. If not for my inherited memories, I would’ve turned to ash. Still, I was far from unscathed. My foundation had taken a blow. If I didn’t reclaim my Paladin Legacy soon, I’d dissolve from the inside out.

I activated Zealot’s Stride and descended from the heavens, stepping on empty air with weak legs. My qi was depleted, and the moment I touched ground, I crashed into the lake with a painful splash. I swam, surfaced, and dragged myself to the shore. I was naked and trembling under the weight of qi exhaustion and the wind.

"What a pain."

I sighed.

Every drop of quintessence came at the cost of qi, and my command over it remained imprecise. Too often, I relied on flashy technique and potent inheritance, but mastery? Control? No. My techniques were sharp, but they weren’t refined. I had power, yes… but the foundation of that power was still crude.

Cross-legged on the wet grass, I focused my breath. Inhale. Exhale. Then slowly, drawing from the lingering embers of faith that hadn’t burned away, I molded a robe over my body. A plain one. It was cheap and gray, but it covered me. Back during my clash with Aixin, all I managed was a half-decent loincloth. This was progress, I supposed.

Standing again, I launched into the sky. The robe fluttered around me as I ran atop the air with Zealot’s Stride. I headed straight for New Willow. Wen Yuhan’s memories told me that cultivators who surpassed Ascended Soul could, in rare cases, use the power of creation. It wasn’t permanent, and it was costly, but it was real. It made me wonder how far I could push it now.

Qi rushed back into me like a tide. The Soul Recognition Realm was no joke. Even without quintessence, I could probably level a mountain if I were to self-destruct. It was only now that I understood the scale of power true cultivators wielded. In the Hollowed World, my Paladin power had been overwhelming, but I never met anyone who pushed me to the edge. Most weren’t allowed to exert their full strength for fear of either breaking themselves or because I’ve suppressed them too easily. I’d mistaken their lack of power for weakness. That was my arrogance.

And now, I knew better. At the Soul Recognition Realm, it was possible to anchor your talents so deeply that you could inherit them in your next life. There were even special techniques that allowed a cultivator to inherit techniques in their next life.

Wen Yuhan’s life plans made more sense now, starting from how she tried to steal my body. Her scheming wasn’t born of greed or cruelty. It was desperation. She saw herself as the weakest among the Seven Sages, and unlike them, she was stuck in a world with a spiritual ceiling barely scratching the Spirit Mystery Realm. The qi density was so thin back then that one would be lucky to reach Martial Tempering.

But something had changed. The ceiling had risen. Now, I sensed Mind Enlightenment practitioners everywhere.

I landed softly on a thick branch and scanned the forest beneath me. There were too many presences to ignore. I whispered, “Yuen Fu, what’s going on?”

He emerged from behind the leaves, landing on a lower branch. He knelt, placing one fist over his chest. “Forgive me, Lady Yuhan. I deployed the Guardians. I wanted to ensure you were safe after the sky turned red.”

More of them appeared. Guardians in light armor, stepping from the foliage onto the surrounding branches. One by one, they dropped to one knee.

I rubbed the back of my neck and gave him a tired smile. “I’m not dead. Just burned to a crisp, but pretty much alive.”

The Guardians. Once, they had been the 112th Bronze Unit… my unit. My elite! My sword and shield back when the Yama King still reigned and Da Wei stood proud under heaven. Now they call me Shrine Maiden, Voice of the Sacred Grove, and Divine Strategist. They didn’t know that beneath Wen Yuhan’s robes, Da Wei still lived.

And thank the heavens for that, because I would actually die of embarrassment if they ever found out.

“Don’t fuss too much, I am fine… okay?”

Five years ago, when Da Wei defeated the Yama King, the 112th Bronze Unit split into two camps: those who wished to follow Wen Yuhan and those who insisted they would serve no one but Da Wei. I had to create a fiction, spinning tales of Da Wei’s “abduction by an evil spirit” and elevating him to martyrdom, to unify them. Part of the Guardians still roamed the continent searching for my “stolen” body. The other half remained in New Willow, serving the Sacred Groves.

Without the Destiny Seeking Eyes, I wouldn’t have been able to pull it off. Their trust came not just from my charisma, but from my ability to use Da Wei’s spells and techniques in this form. They rationalized it as divine inheritance or karmic reincarnation. I let them believe what they needed to.

Stolen story; please report.

Now, five years into my lie, I’d somehow become the head of a pseudo-religious movement. It was a patched-together theology based on morality, inner cultivation, social harmony, and bits I stole from Earth’s philosophy and the Hollowed World’s mythos. It was haphazard. It was absurd. It was also terrifyingly effective.

I shook my head and asked Yuen Fu, “Is that all?”

He stepped forward and held out a scroll. “A letter from Commander Jin Chenglei of the rebel coalition. He requests troops.”

Jin Chenglei had once been my superior back when New Willow was just a cluster of small huts and the Empire still had a crown. After the Yama King’s fall, the Empire fractured completely. Jin Chenglei had managed to gather the remnants into what was now called the Rebel Forces… an uneasy alliance of former imperials, warlords, and opportunists from dying city-states.

I took the scroll and unrolled it. The calligraphy was clean, bold, and unmistakably his.

…

..

.

To the Esteemed Divine Strategist, Shrine Maiden, and Voice of the Sacred Grove, Lady Wen Yuhan,

The Rebel Coalition humbly requests aid from the Sacred Grove. We have uncovered intelligence regarding a rare opportunity to reclaim the Imperial Palace from foreign occupation. The intelligence is solid, and the opportunity fleeting.

We request the deployment of two battalions—one of regulars and one of volunteers—along with the temporary use of your artillery formations. Success will ensure the restoration of the Empire’s dignity and will be remembered by history as the moment the sacred reclaimed the profane.

I swear upon my name that no harm shall come to your people, and that full honors and gratitude shall be given, with spoils shared accordingly.

In hope and resolve,

Jin Chenglei

General of the Rebel Forces

…

..

.

It was formal and reasonable.

I consulted the Destiny Seeking Eyes. My focus narrowed on the possible futures of those who would volunteer for this mission. One by one, I watched them die… ambushed, betrayed, burned alive, and gutted from behind. Not a single thread ended in triumph. Not a one.

My fingers tightened around the scroll. Something was wrong. The Rebels had kept their distance from the Sacred Grove for years, preferring to antagonize the Heavenly Alliance or skirmish with the Demonic Cult. Why now? Why approach us? Was it the technology? The guns? The train lines we’d laid down?

It was possible the Rebels were now working with the Heavenly Alliance. After all, the ruins of the Imperial Palace rested within their territory. The Alliance and the Cult had been throwing spies at us for years, and each time, my Guardians buried them without a sound. Some we even turned. Perhaps that growing frustration finally made them change tactics.

I handed the scroll back to Yuen Fu. “Write a reply.”

He waited, brush in hand.

“Tell him,” I said, “we respectfully decline. And if he has a problem with that, he should ask his mom why he keeps getting rejected.”

Yuen Fu blinked. “My lady?”

“Add, implicitly, that lying is bad,” I continued, “and then draw an angry emoji.”

His eyes twitched. “What... what is an emoji?”

“Like a small doodle that shows emotion,” I explained, “draw a furious face. Big scowling eyebrows. Make it expressive.”

Yuen Fu’s mouth twitched. “Do I truly have to write it like that?”

I gave him a bland look. “Yes.”

“But that will humiliate him—”

“Yes.”

Yuen Fu didn’t argue further. He just muttered under his breath, “Cult leaders are crazy,” and got to work.

Excuse me? What cult leader were you talking about, Yuen Fu? I really had to stop myself from frying him with a Thunderous Smite just for that offhand mutter. I exhaled slowly and kept my temper in check. Deep breaths. I was the Divine Strategist, Shrine Maiden of the Sacred Grove, an emblem of grace and restraint… even if it took every ounce of willpower to play the part.

“Come on, let’s go home…”

Managing two separate identities was starting to fray the edges of my soul. It was like juggling flaming swords while blindfolded. Every word I spoke as Wen Yuhan had to be weighed against the myth I’d built around Da Wei. And gods, that myth had mutated. Thanks to a certain bone bastard, word of Da Wei’s “deeds” had spread across the land like wildfire in a dry forest. There were rumors that he bedded a thousand women in a single night. It was anatomically insane even with profound cultivation! And then saved a damsel from a demon, romanced a famous clan’s princess, wooed a jade beauty to her death, accidentally slept with a seductive demoness, and even stole someone’s wife.

The bone bastard! Jue Bu had clearly been having too much fun.

Of course, it wasn’t just romantic misadventures that were staining my name. He was also building quite the legend as a trickster and rogue hero… shaving the head of a famous general from the Heavenly Alliance, castrating a demonic cultivator mid-duel, and turning every battlefield into an opportunity for some prank or chaotic miracle.

And yet, rather than damaging Da Wei’s reputation, these stories only added to the mystique. The Guardians… my elite soldiers and the core of my power… idolized him even more. There were whispers, dangerous ones, about forming a sect in his name. I wouldn’t be surprised if some of them had already switched spiritual allegiance to him without realizing it.

Which is why, in my infinite shame, I began leaking another narrative behind the scenes: that Da Wei’s erratic behavior stemmed from being rejected by the virtuous, unreachable, utterly unimpressed Wen Yuhan. Yes, I started the rumor that Da Wei had fallen in love with me, and when I turned him down, he spiraled into reckless abandon.

It was so mortifying, I wanted to throw myself into a lake and stay there.

But dying would be the coward’s path, and I had too many responsibilities… and one runaway body… to handle. Fortunately, the Guardians had started reporting consistent leads. Jue Bu wasn’t exactly being subtle. I suspected part of him wanted to be found. That idiot. I’d be setting out soon to get my body back, and when I did, he was going to regret every kiss, every wink, and every exaggerated tale he spread using my face.

As we arrived back in New Willow, the Guardians dispersed with silent discipline. I entered the shrine, shedding my quintessence-made robe and wearing one fit for my role. It was a flowing ceremonial garment, subtle yet elegant, with clean lines of white and verdant palette that reflected the Grove’s harmony.

I had barely tied the sash when Da Ji arrived in the courtyard. Her presence was unmistakable, and her tone left no room for argument. “Get out,” she said plainly, Qi Speech enhancing the command.

I stepped out, hands raised, more amused than offended. “How can I help, little sister?”

She smiled and slipped her hand into mine. “Lunch. With Father, Mother, and my husband. Join us.”

I blinked. “I have no plans of revealing my true nature to our parents, you know.”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s just lunch, big brother. Sit, eat, smile politely. I’ll handle the rest.”

Before I could protest further, she tugged my hand with surprising strength. “Come on,” she said, voice softening. “Let’s go, big brother.”

And just like that, I was roped into a family meal, hiding my true identity while sitting across from the man who married my sister and the parents who raised me. Just another absurd chapter in the saga of Da Wei… Paladin, cult leader, and now undercover sister.

“I think... I am starting to like it here… But… This isn’t home…”