Immortal Paladin

340 The Civil War

[POV: Ren Xun]

From the corner of Ren Xun’s vision, he saw Da Wei and Jia Sen suddenly vanish in a wink of light, swallowed whole by a formation he barely had time to sense. The shockwave of their disappearance rippled through the battlefield, scattering dust and qi currents like a storm.

Across from him, Bai Rong laughed. The sound was hollow, triumphant, and cruel.

“Surrender, little prince… With Da Wei gone, you are nothing!” 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ𝓋𝑒𝑙.𝑐𝘰𝑚

Ren Xun’s glare could have frozen mountains.

“It’s Dragon King to you, cur.”

His anger had never been this pure, not since the day the Seven Imperial Households’ armies stormed his wedding, killing his parents, his loyal friend Liang Na, and tearing the Empire apart in the coup that birthed this war. His vision narrowed, his heartbeat slowing, his rage sharpening into the cold clarity of a blade.

“Bai Rong,” he uttered, dodging a storm of crystalline spears that tore through the ground. “Why did you do it?”

Beside him, Zhou Yong, the Dragon God, stirred. The great dragon’s ethereal form coiled protectively around Ren Xun, her massive tail weaving through the air to intercept Bai Rong’s attacks. She lent him qi through their bond, channeling divine energy into the formations etched into his skin.

“Hold steady, my king,” her voice echoed in his mind, soft yet fierce. “He cannot touch you so long as I am with you.”

Ren Xun exhaled, steadying his mind. His steps became deliberate, flowing, every movement leaving a faint glowing mark on the ground.

Bai Rong blurred, vanishing in a burst of crystalline leaves, trying to flank him. But Ren Xun’s perception extended through Zhou Yong’s eyes. Together, their shared awareness made them something more than mortal… a single entity of perfect coordination.

Ren Xun slammed his palms together.

“Dragon of winter, lend me your strength. Let your extreme cold flow into my formation…”

The air froze. A sigil ignited beneath Bai Rong’s feet, the earth crystallizing into ice. Frost raced up Bai Rong’s legs, locking him mid-motion.

Zhou Yong took the cue. She unleashed dozens of flaming orbs, each one a miniature sun. The explosion that followed scattered shards of ice and shattered crystal.

But as the smoke cleared, only glass fragments fell to the ground. It was a clone.

“Impressive, little prince,” came Bai Rong’s voice from behind. “You’ve grown stronger… but cleverer still.”

He emerged from the shadows, smiling with predatory amusement. His robes fluttered like dark petals in the wind.

“So that’s what you’ve been doing, hm? Drawing formations with your steps as you move. Ingenious. Truly… as expected of the hidden dragon of the Empire.”

Ren Xun said nothing. His eyes glowed faintly, dragon pupils slitted and burning with determination. He knew the truth: under normal circumstances, a Seventh Realm cultivator had no chance against a Tenth Realm monster like Bai Rong.

But Ren Xun was no ordinary cultivator. His destiny as Dragon King had awakened, granting him the right to draw upon the power of dragonkind from their bloodlines, their elements, and their fury. It was dangerous. Every surge of borrowed strength tore at his mortal vessel, threatening to consume him from within.

But vengeance was worth the price.

“I’ll ask again, Bai Rong… Why betray the Empire?”

For a heartbeat, Bai Rong’s smile softened, almost wistful. Then his expression darkened, twisting into something fanatic and faraway.

“Why?” he murmured, eyes gleaming like cracked jade. “It’s for the eternal dream.”

“And what manner of ideal is this Eternal Dream that it made you betray the generosity of the Emperor?” asked Ren Xun, his tone sharp as a drawn blade. His feet subtly traced patterns into the sand beneath him, connecting invisible threads of qi.

Bai Rong sneered, the expression twisting his features into something grotesque.

“Ideal? The Eternal Dream is not an ideal… It’s a place of fulfillment. For me, that means power. You wouldn’t understand… you’re young, naïve… But I must say, I can’t help but compliment you, little prince. I thought you’d be nothing more than an annoyance, yet here you are… with the vestige of a Perfect Immortal at your side.”

Zhou Yong, the Dragon God, immediately bristled. Her voice cut through the air like thunder.

“A vestige, you call me? You were still a speck of semen when I was already the God of Dragons. Watch your mouth, mortal.”

Bai Rong’s mocking grin only widened, but his eyes flickered briefly.

Zhou Yong was indeed far from her peak. Her current manifestation was incomplete, a shadow of the once-mighty Dragon God who once devoured heavens and sundered seas. Though she was technically a Perfect Immortal, her strength was greatly diminished. Against a true Ascended Soul, she would falter, but against Bai Rong, she should be more than enough.

Zhou Yong leaned closer to Ren Xun, her draconic voice softening into a whisper.

“I have a bad feeling about this… We are being watched.”

Ren Xun’s eyes didn’t move, his expression composed despite the heat of battle.

“Just stay alert,” he murmured back.

From behind Bai Rong, the vast army of the Seven Imperial Households stirred. Their banners fluttered under the pale light of the Evernight sands. The undead, Bai Rong’s corrupted troops, began to march forward in a clumsy yet unstoppable wave. Their cries were hollow, their bodies twisted by roots that pulsed faintly with Bai Rong’s energy.

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Above them, airships hovered, enormous constructs of metal and spirit jade, brimming with cultivators and siege arrays.

Ren Xun’s voice dropped to a calm whisper that the wind barely carried in his Qi Speech.

“Begin.”

The moment he said it, several hidden formations in the sky connected in a blinding flash of light. It was used as a source to attract fate and lessen the burden on Ren Xun to cast his spells, unleash his skills, or say, summon an entire fleet at his command.

He looked back at Bai Rong, his eyes burning with contempt.

“For a clan of exorcists, I can’t believe your lot would stoop so low as to use necromancy. Has your lack of ideals really eaten away your humanity that much?”

From beyond the horizon, the skies of Riverfall rippled, then split open.

Hundreds upon hundreds of flying vessels emerged from warp, tearing through the clouds like meteors. The fleet was unlike anything the Evernight had ever seen. They were sleek, metallic, and brimming with divine technology.

Ren Xun had spent a hundred years preparing for this. Personally crafting every ship with his own hand, embedding warp arrays and dangerous technology he inherited from his grandfather. Each vessel carried cannons capable of channeling Fourth Realm destructive power… and when fired in concert, they could threaten even a Tenth Realm cultivator.

From their decks, soldiers of the Riverfall Kingdom stood ready with men and women trained in New Willow’s martial doctrines, armed with qi-forged rifles and discipline beyond ordinary mortals.

It was, as Da Wei once said, an ideal army for a world of immortals.

Ren Xun smiled coldly.

“You’ve blinded yourself chasing power, Bai Rong. For all your talk of fulfillment, you’re nothing more than a slave to it.”

Bai Rong merely chuckled, eyes gleaming with disdain.

“And you, little prince, are too small-minded to grasp the enormity of the universe. The Eternal Dream isn’t something worms like you can comprehend.”

The woman who had been embracing Ren Xun, the Dragon God, Zhou Yong, began to shimmer with radiance. Her form loosened, divine qi rippling like heat on molten metal. The draconic light that surrounded her burned away the illusion of clothing, revealing flawless skin inscribed with markings of ancient power.

She smiled at Ren Xun and leaned close to kiss his cheek. Her voice was sultry, yet filled with divine weight.

“You better don’t die… So, do your best to win.”

The kiss seared like a brand. A glowing mark bloomed across Ren Xun’s cheek, spreading tendrils of light through his veins. Formations that had been etched beneath his skin was further empowered, snaking over his body like living serpents of light. Sage marks flared on his face, golden and blue, burning with the authority of dragons.

“Show him what you’ve got, Your Majesty,” Zhou Yong whispered.

In a burst of silver and golden fire, Zhou Yong’s form collapsed into light. The divine brilliance took form as a glaive, etched in draconic scales and emanating the aura of four seasons and more. Ren Xun grasped the weapon with both hands.

Power surged through him. His cultivation spiked, half a step to Perfect Immortal, and his qi blazing like a storm. Zhou Yong’s essence resonated with his own, the two merging perfectly.

Ren Xun’s voice thundered across the sands.

“Die for me, Bai Rong!”

He slammed the glaive’s butt into the sand, and the earth around them erupted in glowing runes. It was the formation he had been weaving since their battle began.

“Burst!”

The ground trembled, the air thick with spiritual pressure.

Bai Rong only laughed, his hands clapping once as black roots burst from the ground. Undead clawed their way from beneath the sands, their corrupted energy disrupting Ren Xun’s lines of qi. The formation flickered, then broke apart.

Ren Xun’s expression hardened.

“So… that’s how you want to play.”

Bai Rong sneered, his eyes gleaming like molten glass.

“We are still within Evernight, my domain! Did you think you were the only one who studied formations? Watch closely, child… Myriad Crystalline Spears!”

From the air, thousands of spears of translucent glass appeared, each humming with lethal intent. They rained down like a storm.

Ren Xun’s pupils dilated, his gaze sharp, and his movements precise. Among the countless spears, he noticed a single orb of light bouncing from one to another, multiplying them exponentially. It was a mirror node, the heart of Bai Rong’s formation.

Undead warriors rushed forward, their bodies mangled but swift, their eyes filled with the same strange light.

“Begin bombardment,” Ren Xun commanded through Qi Speech. “Don’t mind me.”

The sky answered his call.

From the heavens, the Riverfall fleet unleashed its full might. Pillars of qi-energy cascaded down like judgment, annihilating entire ranks of undead. The explosions were deafening and so intense that even the vessels of the Seven Imperial Households were caught in the devastation.

The ground shattered. The sands turned to glass.

Bai Rong shielded himself with crystalline barriers, laughing amid the destruction.

Ren Xun vanished beneath the sand, using an earth movement technique to reposition. Through his Qi Sense, he tracked Bai Rong’s presence, trying to flee through the dunes.

“No, you don’t.”

He gripped the glaive tighter. Every formation, every plan, every ounce of preparation… this was the culmination of his vengeance.

“You cannot deny me… victory!”

He erupted from the sands, glaive blazing with Zhou Yong’s essence, only to find nothing.

A heartbeat later, agony followed.

Roots tore through the sand, impaling him from below. A massive tree burst upward, its bark of crystal and bone. Perched atop one of its branches, Bai Rong sat like a king surveying a conquered world, smiling down at Ren Xun with mocking pity.

“For all your fire, little prince,” Bai Rong said, his tone dripping with arrogance, “you still haven’t learned what it means to fight beyond your station.”

Station? Station!?

The word echoed in Ren Xun’s head like a spark thrown into oil. Cold fury filled his chest, spreading through his veins like ice. The blood of commoners might flow in him, but that didn’t make him lesser. Titles, prestige, noble blood… those things had always disgusted him.

In cultivation, in foundation, he might have been lacking compared to the monsters of the higher realms. But what did that matter? If there was one thing he possessed that others didn’t… it was resolve. When Ren Xun decided to win, nothing in existence could stop him. That kind of mentality was something that his parents had nurtured in him, and it hadn’t changed for him.

He straightened, his eyes narrowing, his qi coiling like a tempest around him.

“Checkmate,” said Ren Xun.

Bai Rong blinked. “Excuse me?” he asked, insulted.

Ren Xun’s body suddenly crumbled into sand, scattering in the air. “Do you really think I would fall for such a vapid illusion?” From above, Ren Xun appeared, suspended midair on nothing but will and qi. The faint echo of dragons rumbled across the battlefield as silver light danced behind him.

Ren Xun smirked.

“This entire time,” he said, his voice carrying across the field, “I’ve been buying time.”

The sky began to shimmer.

One by one, dragon scales appeared across the horizon, each massive, translucent, and humming with light. They overlapped like a celestial lattice, forming an intricate pattern that made the heavens themselves tremble.

Bai Rong’s expression faltered. “What… is this?”

Ren Xun’s gaze sharpened.

“Dragonscale Basket — Capture!”

Bai Rong cursed, slamming his palms into the ground. Roots erupted upward like spears; colossal pillars of crystal and wood tore into the air, trying to break through the unseen formation.

But the heavens had already shifted.

The dragon scales descended, linking together into a massive orb of light. A draconic roar filled the air as the barrier formed completely, enclosing Bai Rong within.

Bai Rong ran toward the edge, punching at the barrier, but the golden wall only rippled faintly. His attacks couldn’t even scratch it.

“REN XUN!” Bai Rong’s voice cracked with rage.

Ren Xun descended slowly from the sky, the glaive of Zhou Yong glinting in his hands, his gaze cold and imperious.

“I’ve studied the barrier that imprisoned the Empire… a result of your scheming, wasn’t it?” Ren Xun said, his voice calm but venomous. “I took advice from my grandfather about isolation techniques. Then I consulted with the dragons. Finally…” He smirked faintly. “I added my own little twist.”

The barrier pulsed, sealing completely. Bai Rong’s qi was snuffed out by the outside world.

Ren Xun’s tone hardened.

“This is what’s going to happen. You’ll stay here, trapped for the duration of the war, watching helplessly as your grand ambitions and your armies burn.”

Far below, the battlefield was chaos, pillars of qi-fire and artillery from Riverfall’s fleet ripped through the ranks of the Seven Imperial Households. Without Bai Rong’s direction, their coordination crumbled.

Ren Xun twirled the glaive once, resting it against his shoulder. A smirk, petty, satisfied, and mocking, curved his lips.

“How’s that for station, you self-important weed?”

The sky above Evernight blazed gold as Bai Rong’s army was annihilated.