Immortal Paladin

292 Role-playing’s Tough

The walls loomed ahead, their shadow stretched across the city now blanketed in a cold, suffocating mist. Frost clung to every surface, and silence reigned where chaos had once erupted. At the heart of it stood Da Ji, her colossal fox form radiating an aura of slumber and winter. Her nine tails curled languidly as her breath condensed into streams of frost. Alice emerged from the mist soon after, her steps quiet, but her expression told me enough.

“How did it go?” I asked, keeping my voice steady.

“I altered their memories,” she said, brushing frost from her sleeve. “They’ll no longer recall you or that spell. But the gaps remain. Too many bodies, and too many absences. If anyone is observant enough to investigate, they’ll know something happened.”

Da Ji’s voice carried like a low rumble, even as she shrank her form to something less intimidating. “Those who perished deserved their fate. Their karma was steeped in malice, their hands drenched in wickedness. Brother should not bear guilt for such trifles.”

I raised a hand to cut her off, though my tone softened. “It’s fine. Really. But both of you need to stop treating me like glass. I can handle the weight on my own.”

Alice folded her arms, her gaze sharper than any blade. “Then handle this truth: you are reckless. We need to talk about that.”

I forced a smile. “Hey, I’m doing great, aren’t I?”

“You are improving,” Alice admitted. “Your temper’s more controlled, and you’ve resisted that urge to throw yourself blindly into martyrdom. But the moment impatience sinks in, you slip. You know it. You need to stop.”

Before I could quip back, Da Ji shifted into her human form, brushing snowflakes from her silver hair. “She’s right, brother. We had a plan, yet you strayed. This path we walk requires exactness, not impulse.”

Their united voices left me cornered. I had no clever retort that could mask the truth. They were right, and I was wrong. Our plan was infiltration, slow and silent, not knocking on the Empire’s gates and… literally rage-baiting them. Clever disguises and patience, not fiery theatrics. My fight with Bai Zheme and that strange demon already risked exposing us to the wrong eyes.

“You’re right. I was reckless. I’ll stop letting impatience guide me, and I’ll focus on the mission.” I exhaled, my pride stinging more than any wound. “But first, we need to leave before more trouble finds us.”

So that was what we did. I rode on Da Ji’s back while Alice perched gracefully atop her bicorn, the steady beat of hooves carrying us further from the Grand Ascension Empire’s western wall. The Empire was vast, spanning Eight Continents, but this border could only belong to Skyhold. We pressed forward without pause, cutting across hills and valleys until the walls and mist behind us blurred.

Only after covering a long stretch did I notice an almost invisible shimmer that stretched across the land. A barrier, faint yet absolute, encases the Empire. The sensation prickled against my Divine Sense, and when I reached for the rest of my souls through our soul link, nothing answered. It was too similar to the dome over Northshire for comfort. The realization sank in hard. The Heavenly Temple’s might wasn’t abstract anymore; it was a living wall. They had cuffs capable of suppressing even Ascended Souls, barrier techniques that severed connections between bonded souls, and apparently, a stable of pet demons to throw at their enemies.

We finally slowed near a smaller city, far enough from the Empire’s reach to breathe but close enough to begin gathering information again. I drew three scrolls from my Item Box and handed them over. “Magic Scrolls of Disguise. Use them.”

Back in Lost Legends Online, they’d been little more than a novelty for players to mimic NPC models for fun. But here, with quintessence to sustain the disguise, they became something far more reliable. The scrolls warped reality, molding appearances into something new and seamless. They only unraveled under harsh, direct interference… touch, damage, or force. But quintessence was creation itself, and as long as we fueled the magic with it, the illusions would become near unbreakable.

Da Ji tilted her head, ears twitching. “What’s it for?”

“Think of what you want to look like,” I explained, “then let it rip with quintessence.”

I was about to tear mine when Alice’s hand pressed firmly against my wrist. Her eyes narrowed, her voice firm. “You need to think carefully about this. The face you choose matters.”

“I got it handled,” I replied quickly, brushing off her warning.

Da Ji’s eyes lit with mischief. “Can it change your gender?”

“Yes,” Alice answered smoothly before I could, though her tone grew heavier as she addressed him. “If you want to take this seriously, a feminine form would keep anyone from suspecting you as Da Wei. You should at least consider it.”

I stared at her, feeling the sting of betrayal. My own ally pushing me toward… that. Don’t get me wrong. I’m pretty open-minded myself, but I’d like to stay a dude now and in the foreseeable future.

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Before I could argue, Da Ji ripped her scroll. Silver light wrapped around her, compressing her form until she stood as a little girl with long silver hair and sharply pointed elven ears. She poked her new ears curiously, then muttered, “Little Wei has a complex about his ears, but I don’t see the problem.”

Alice followed next. With a calm breath, she tore her scroll, her form aging rapidly into that of a wrinkled old woman. Her robes roughened into travel-worn cloth, her hair thinning into snowy wisps. Even her posture bent slightly, projecting the image of a worldly hidden master who had walked every path and seen every secret.

Both of them turned to me expectantly. Their eyes lingered, waiting for what I would choose. I sighed, then ripped my scroll. Quintessence surged through me as I wove my clothing to match the role. My body shrank, my shoulders broadened, and a thick, bristling beard sprouted across my jaw. When the light faded, I stood stout and short, a sly grin beneath a bushy tangle of hair that could rival a broom.

Alice let out a long, tired sigh. Da Ji blinked at me, tilting her head in confusion. “What are you supposed to be?”

I folded my stubby arms across my chest, puffed out the beard with a flourish, and let my voice rumble low with the thickest dwarf accent I could muster. “What am I, lass? Why, I’m Brogan Stonebeard, son of the Iron Mines, heir to no throne but master o’ the anvil! A wanderer cursed with short legs and a long memory, who’s seen more taverns than temples and drunk more ale than water. By my daddy’s mighty hammer, I once cleaved a mountain troll in twain with nothin’ but a rusty pickaxe and sheer stubbornness.”

I jabbed a thumb at my chest, the sly grin never leaving my face. “Aye, call me what ye will, but if there’s stone to break, drink to spill, or secrets to dig, ye can bet this beard will be right in the thick o’ it.”

Alice covered her face with one hand, muttering something about regretting everything, while Da Ji just blinked at me like I had sprouted a second beard.

“What even is a dwarf?” Da Ji mumbled, bewildered. “What’s with that weird accent, anyway? This is so ridiculous… I’ve never seen a child have a beard like yours!”

I only grinned wider. “Aye, lass. But I am no child! I am a dwarf, ye hear? Back in the good old days, when a dwarf could be a dwarf without question!”

Alice pinched the bridge of her nose, her elderly disguise doing nothing to hide the exasperation in her tone. “We don’t need to attract attention, so drop the accent. Now.”

I straightened my squat frame, tugging at my beard as I rumbled even deeper, “Ach, but lass, ye don’t understand! No soul alive would suspect ol’ Brogan Stonebeard fer anythin’ other than a harmless wanderer. Who’d doubt a dwarf with more beard than sense?”

Alice gave me a flat stare, the kind that pierced through bravado and struck where it hurt most. “It’s annoying. People will notice you instantly, not for your disguise, but for your ridiculous voice. They’ll think you’re some eccentric drunk, and you’ll draw more eyes than Da Ji’s ears ever could.”

I opened my mouth, ready with a comeback, but my sister’s silver-haired, elven little-girl guise cut me short. She tilted her head, blinking innocently, and said, “Yes, brother… it is kind of annoying. Tone it down, please?”

The way she asked knocked the wind right out of me. I let out a long sigh, the dwarf accent slipping into silence. “Fine, no more Brogan Stonebeard in public. But just so you know, he’ll live on in my heart.”

Alice rolled her eyes, muttering, “Saints help me.”

Da Ji only giggled, her new form making it oddly endearing.

I decided we needed to put our story straight. “From here on out,” I declared, stroking my beard for effect, “I’m a wandering mercenary named Du De.”

Alice immediately groaned, her elderly disguise doing nothing to soften her irritation. “Du De? Absolutely not. You’re just asking for trouble with that name.”

I grinned, unbothered. “I like it. Has a certain… weight. And besides, nobody will suspect a dwarf mercenary with a cheap-sounding name.” Da Ji blinked, looking between us, but didn’t object. That was all the validation I needed.

And as if they would get the joke in the name, anyway…

“As for you,” I turned to my sister, “you’ll still be Da Ji, but with different characters. Your name isn’t that well-known, so it’ll pass.”

Da Ji tilted her head, curious. “But… is this really necessary?”

“Absolutely,” I insisted, leaning forward as if delivering some great secret. “This is the most important part of role-playing.”

“Role… playing?” she repeated, her silver brows knitting together. The confusion was genuine, and I remembered belatedly that Da Ji had no real concept of theater, acting, or make-believe.

Before I could explain, Alice crossed her arms. “For once, I agree with David. We should set our story straight before we walk in blind.”

“Hey!” I snapped, pointing at her. “My name is Du De!”

Alice gave a dramatic cough, pretending to have misspoken. “Fine. Du De.” Then, with a reluctant sigh, she added, “I’ll be a reclusive master who took in a young disciple. At least that fits my appearance.”

Her eyes narrowed suddenly. “But this doesn’t even make sense. Da Ji’s frost techniques don’t resemble mine in the slightest. Anyone who looks closely will see it.”

Da Ji’s face lit up, her childlike disguise making her excitement almost comical. “Then how about this! My master was your long-dead husband and Dao companion who knew frost arts, and you took me in after his death!”

Alice blinked at her, struck silent. For a moment, I thought she might explode.

Instead, she pinched the bridge of her nose. “Fine. But then explain where the dwarf mercenary fits into this mess?”

I slammed a fist to my chest proudly. “Easy! You hired me because you’re injured, and I’m cheap… because I’m short. Done.”

Da Ji clapped her little hands together in delight. Alice, meanwhile, looked like she was reconsidering every choice that led her to this point. Eventually, she let out a long sigh and muttered, “Fine. We’ll do it your way. But I’ll think my own name.”

I raised a brow. “And what name is it gonna be?”

She smirked with a touch of dry humor. “Fu Ni.”

I froze. “…Seriously?”

Her wrinkled face betrayed nothing but satisfaction. “Yes. Fu Ni.”

Who said Alice didn't have a sense of humor? Definitely not me.

So, with our very elaborate role-playing campaign secured, mercenary Du De, disciple Da Ji, and master Fu Ni set out toward the city, ready to test our disguises against the world.

We reached the gates of the city only for a wall of spears to block our way. The guard captain raised his voice, sharp and cold, “Halt! By decree of the Emperor, all cities within the Skyhold Realm are to close their gates, and every citizen of the Empire is to comply without exception. You stand in violation of this order. The City of Nineclouds finds you guilty!”

Aaaaaah…

“This is some bullshit!”