Immortal Paladin

295 Iron Bull in Chains

The plan had been simple: infiltrate, gather intel, find leads on what happened with the Empire, and leave without stirring trouble. That was what Alice and I had agreed on. But with Zhu Shin in front of me, everything changed. I sighed inwardly. The practical choice was to let the feast play out, slip away later, and recover him in the shadows. That would’ve been neat and clean. But I’d never been the sort to go quietly.

Stealth had its advantages, yes, but I doubted we had the luxury of time to indulge in it. Nongmin might already be in danger, and so too were my disciples and the countless others I cared for. Every heartbeat spent here was another heartbeat closer to disaster. My hands tightened beneath the table as Tian Luo’s voice pulled me back.

“Is there a problem, old master?”

I forced my lips into an easy curve. “None.”

With that, I called upon my Divine Spark, letting it flare as I cast Exalted Renewal, allowing me to cast Divine Word unhindered. The brilliance within me stirred, and in a single breath, I unleashed the power of Divine Word: Rest. Waves of sacred command rolled outward from my voice, touching every corner of the hall. Nobles, guards, servants, and even those of higher cultivation slumped where they stood. None was able to resist.

As silence swept over the hall, I canceled Exalted Renewal and redirected my focus inward, feeding my Divine Spark through the Mana Road. The faint hum in my veins steadied.

From the side, Da Ji’s anxious voice broke through. “Brother, what are you doing? Alice won’t like this…” Her wide eyes darted toward the fallen crowd, as if expecting them to rise any second.

“She’ll understand,” I answered, my tone firmer than I felt.

I walked to Zhu Shin, crushing the chains at his wrists with a single squeeze until they splintered like brittle twigs. His bulk sagged, and I hefted him onto my shoulder, his body still heavy with wounds, though his aura flickered with stubborn life.

Through the tether of my Asura Soul, I reached for Alice. “Change of plans. We need to leave, now. I found Zhu Shin. He’s hurt badly.”

Her response came swiftly and crisply. “Understood. You know where to find me.”

I motioned for Da Ji to follow. Together, we moved with haste, slipping from the palace hall. With our cultivation, it was no great challenge to escape the grand feast unnoticed.

After several turns, leaping from one tiled roof to another, and pausing only when patrols passed below us, we finally landed in a shadowed courtyard tucked away from the main streets. The night air was cold, and the moonlight glimmered faintly over the high walls. Waiting as if she had anticipated us was Alice. She had already discarded her dwarf disguise, moonlight shimmering faintly over her true form.

I pulled away my own disguise, emerald robes settling around me as if they had never left. Da Ji followed suit, her childish illusion melting away until her youthful but unmistakably divine presence returned.

Behind Alice stood a group of cultivators cloaked in black, their movements silent but sharp. The instant they saw me, they dropped to their knees.

“Greetings to Lord Wei!”

“Rise,” I commanded. “No need to be so stiff.”

My gaze swept over them until it caught on a familiar face, an elderly woman, still sharp-eyed despite her age. She bore the cultivation of the Sixth Realm, her aura unmistakably steady. “Wait… Hei Ximei? Elder Ximei, how are you? And the Shadow Clan? I trust Patriarch Yuan is still holding up well?”

She bowed deeply, eyes shining with relief. “It is my honor that you still remember me, my lord.”

Carefully, I lowered the still-slumbering Zhu Shin onto the ground. His chest rose and fell shallowly, his body mended by my earlier healing but far from whole.

“Brother!” cried a woman. "Heavens, what did they do to you?"

It was one of the kneeling Shadow Clan who broke ranks, rushing toward us. Unlike the others, she wore robes of a different style, her face streaked with tears.

“Hold!” Hei Ximei barked, trying to restrain her. “You stand before Lord Wei—”

“It’s fine, Elder Ximei.” I raised a hand to ease her. “I know her. She’s the general’s sister.”

Zhu Lian dropped to her knees beside Zhu Shin, cradling his battered form. Her trembling hands brushed his hair from his forehead, her voice breaking as she whispered his name.

I let my hand hover over him again and invoked Blessed Regeneration and Great Cure, weaving light into his wounds until his pallor softened and his breathing steadied further.

Turning back to Hei Ximei, I asked, “So what brings the Shadow Clan to Nineclouds?”

“We were already on a mission to rescue the general, Lord Wei,” she answered, her tone reverent but tinged with steel. “Imagine my astonishment when Lady Alice sought us out first. With the two of you here, the Empire itself may yet be saved.”

Her words gave me pause. “Saved? You’ll have to elaborate. I know the Empire is drowning in Civil War, but how bad has it become?”

Hei Ximei’s expression darkened, shadows creasing her weathered face. “Bad enough that the Seven Imperial Houses have rebelled, drenching the capital in blood. Worse still, the news of the coup has been strangled, smothered before it could reach the provinces. The rest of the Empire slumbers in ignorance, blind to betrayal. This is no mere war, Lord Wei… It is a conspiracy. The Seven Imperial Houses meant to strip the Emperor from the throne and crown themselves the rulers of a new order.”

Zhu Shin stirred awake, his eyelids fluttering as though he were surfacing from a long and suffocating dream. His lips trembled before his voice finally broke through. “Is that… you? Da Wei?”

Hoarse and weak, he struggled.

I moved closer and steadied his heavy frame, gently easing him upright. His eyes were still glazed, carrying the weight of nightmares, but recognition lit within them. Then tears gathered, rolling freely down his scarred cheeks as his voice cracked. “I… I failed Nongmin. His Majesty… I couldn’t… I failed him…”

His sister was already at his side, clutching his broad shoulders, her own tears spilling as she tried to soothe him. “It’s fine, brother… The important thing is you are alive…”

Zhu Shin shook his head violently, grief hardening his expression. “No. I failed His Majesty.”

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I exchanged a glance with Alice and Da Ji, then inhaled slowly, retrieving my Asura Soul from Alice’s keeping. I crouched down in front of the broken general, speaking plainly but firmly, “I wish to see what you saw… Do I have your consent?”

His breathing grew uneven. His fists clenched and unclenched as though he battled himself. This mountain of a man had been once a pillar of the Empire. But now, he looked as fragile as shattered glass. Finally, he locked eyes with me, and through the tears, his voice carried desperation. “Wei… Da Wei… You can save His Majesty. If it’s you, it should be possible!”

I kept my tone steady, not promising more than I could. “I will do what I can.”

Placing my palm over his chest, I invoked the art. “Divine Possession.”

The world tilted, and my vision sank into the depths of Zhu Shin’s soul. His memories unfolded like rivers breaking past a dam. His childhood in obscurity, the years of hardship and hunger before fate delivered him into the Emperor’s gaze, the long march through blood and mud that shaped him into a general. They all surged through me in waves. Slowly, the boundary blurred. I was no longer just Da Wei looking into his memories. I was Zhu Shin.

The smell of incense and the sound of jubilant drums filled my ears. My feet carried me up a tower that overlooked a grand courtyard. Below, banners fluttered brightly against the wind, and voices rose in cheer. I saw them gathering from nobles, soldiers, and commoners alike for a wedding unlike any before. A son of an imperial prince had chosen a commoner bride. It was an event that shattered old traditions, a gesture of unity that stirred both admiration and quiet resentment among the crowd.

I stood tall in my general’s armor, my hand resting on the hilt of my blade as I watched. Pride filled my chest, yet caution never left my mind. Too many eyes glimmered with hidden intent. Too many smiles failed to reach the heart.

Then the moment shifted. The cheers turned to screams. The fragrance of incense drowned beneath the stench of blood and smoke. From celebration to slaughter, the transition was swift, merciless, inevitable. Arrows rained, shattering wine cups and silencing laughter. The bride’s veil, once white, was stained scarlet in the blink of an eye.

The courtyard suddenly became a battlefield!

…

..

.

[POV: Zhu Shin]

Zhu Shin’s heart pounded as he drew on the depths of his Ninth Realm cultivation. The World Path opened within him, a vast, boundless landscape compressed into his core. From that inner world, rivers of strength surged outward, reinforcing his flesh and steel alike. His spear gleamed as he cut down the assassins swarming the wedding hall, each stroke carrying the weight of a mountain and the swiftness of a storm.

The joyous banners were already shredded, the celebratory drums silenced beneath screams. Blood pooled along the stone tiles, staining the bridal veil as more killers emerged from the shadows. Zhu Shin roared, his voice shaking the pillars of the courtyard. “To me! Protect His Majesty!”

And the Phoenix Guards came, the Emperor’s warrior maidens, their armor gleaming like molten gold even amid the smoke and ruin. They were resolute, eyes burning with devotion, each one a flower sharpened into a blade.

Their weapons wove a wall of fire and steel, their formation unyielding. Zhu Shin planted himself at their vanguard, massive spear in hand, his inner world’s energy reinforcing their every strike. Together, they carved a path through the encroaching tide of assassins.

At the center of it all stood the Emperor. Though his robes were ceremonial, he exuded majesty untouched by chaos. His fingers moved with graceful precision, and behind him a dozen colossal figures sprang to life. Warrior puppets of divine craftsmanship, each one etched with countless runes, took their stance, their bladed limbs crashing down upon intruders with earth-splitting force.

“Your Majesty!” Zhu Shin bellowed, rallying to his side. The Phoenix Guards tightened their circle, forming a blazing lotus of defense around the sovereign.

The air suddenly grew cold.

“What is that?”

“What is happening?”

“Do you feel that?”

“It’s cold.”

Mist seeped from the far end of the courtyard, swallowing color and sound alike. Torches sputtered, and the smoke of battle froze mid-air, as though the world itself recoiled. Out of that veil stepped a single figure of an old man, his silhouette distorted by frost. His eyes glowed faintly, brighter than stars, yet emptier than the void.

The courtyard quaked under the spiritual pressure of the old man. “Now, now, take it easy… No one needs to get hurt. It would make my job easier if you do cooperate, however.”

“How about no?” said Nongmin. “Back off.”

The Emperor’s puppets burst to life, each joint humming as qi surged through their cores. Their bladed arms shifted with a chorus of clicks, snapping into cannons as molten heat gathered at their barrels. They pulsed with golden light, dispelling the creeping fog that crawled through the broken arches of the palace.

“Fancy,” commented the old man.

Nongmin’s blindfold darkened as fresh blood seeped through the cloth, dripping down his cheek. His voice was calm, yet behind it burned restrained fury. “...What is the patriarch of the Cloud Mist Sect doing here, showing such blatant killing intent?”

Mist condensed around the old man, crawling like phantom serpents. His lips curled into a smile. “Oh, you ought to know,” he said. “Where’s Da Wei?”

“Jia Sen,” the Emperor spoke, his tone laced with steel. “Have you finally decided to show your true colors? I don’t know where he is, and even if I do, you know that I won’t tell you a thing. I suggest you give up whatever scheme you have in mind. The Empire won’t bend to the whims of the Heavenly Temple.”

Jia Sen laughed, the sound deep and mocking, rolling over the ruined courtyard like a funeral bell. “I’ve always been transparent to you, Your Majesty. But I must say, you look far less intimidating without your Heavenly Eye…”

Zhu Shin moved forward, spear in hand, his world-force boiling within him. The miniature realm in his core fed him rivers of strength, every breath drawing power from its rivers and mountains. His eyes blazed with determination as he planted himself beside the throne. “Your Majesty, let us handle him! There is no need to hear the trifles of this traitor!”

The Phoenix Guards closed ranks, and their formation was flawless. Their leader, Xue Xin of the Left Wing, stepped forward, brandishing her scimitars. Her voice was steady, though her eyes betrayed worry. “General, you should go with His Majesty. Let me and my sisters handle this!”

She never managed to finish. Jia Sen flickered from sight, and in the next instant, his hand closed around her throat. Her feet dangled above the cracked stone as his mist coiled tighter. “Little girl,” Jia Sen said coldly, “you should show more respect to your elders. You? Handle me? I can’t even fathom the thought of someone way weaker than me daring to suggest the impossible. Do you know what I do to people who don’t know their limitations?”

A whip lashed through the air, its flames wrapping around his neck, followed by a flurry of blades and spears lunging for his form. The Phoenix Guards struck with all their might, their formation honed to pierce through any foe.

The whip froze first, its flames dying in a hiss. The Phoenix Guard, wielding the whip, stiffened in horror as her body crystallized, her beauty locked in ice before shattering into fragments that scattered across the courtyard.

“Back off!” Xue Xin shouted, her voice hoarse but resolute.

The Phoenix Guards obeyed, retreating in perfect unison as she summoned her full might. “Fiery Glass Prison!”

Flames erupted, forming crystalline walls of molten glass that enclosed both her and Jia Sen within. The blazing prison shimmered, its radiant heat distorting the air.

It lasted only a moment.

With a flick of Jia Sen’s hand, frost spread across the fiery glass. The walls cracked, then shattered in a storm of shards. Xue Xin burst free with flames, her body reappearing some distance away. Relief touched her lips for only a heartbeat before terror claimed her face. Frostbite crawled from her throat across her body, faster than any healing art could counter.

Her scream died as her flesh fractured, her body collapsing into countless glittering crystals that scattered across the stones.

Zhu Shin roared, his grief erupting into fury. He surged forward, spear glowing as he channeled the entirety of his inner world into a single strike. The courtyard shook as he shot like a meteor, his spear aimed straight at Jia Sen’s heart. “Perish before my might!”

The tip never pierced flesh.

Jia Sen caught the spear effortlessly between his index and middle fingers. Frost spread instantly across the shaft, and his eyes narrowed as he spoke, his tone calm and disdainful. “In life, there is no shortening the gap between the superior and the inferior, no matter how much fighting spirit you burn with. You are still a child reaching for the heavens.”

With a small squeeze, the spear cracked. Splinters of ice erupted outward as the weapon shattered into frozen fragments that dissolved into the mist.

Jia Sen raised his hand and pushed lightly.

The impact was cataclysmic. Zhu Shin’s massive frame flew across the courtyard, smashing through walls and collapsing several buildings. The world inside him trembled as frost invaded his lungs, every breath scraping like shards of glass. He crashed into rubble, coughing blood, the chill gnawing at his bones.

Yet even through the haze of pain, he forced his eyes open, refusing to yield.

In the end, he succumbed to the frost as he lost consciousness.