Immortal Paladin

443 Take Your Best Shot

I could feel the fragments of the Source embedded within each of my disciples, their presences resonating faintly against my own like distant stars answering a call. They had done well, far better than I had anticipated. I never expected them to summon an entire continent and then feed its returning destiny into that tree. The result scattered the Heavenly Temple’s forces into disarray while drawing the bulk of the faithful closer to me, close enough that I could siphon their belief without resistance.

At a glance, it might have looked meaningless, even reckless, but intention did not always need clarity to produce results. My disciples’ desire to help me had shaped the outcome regardless. If I had to describe the Source, it was less a tool and more a kind of destiny wish-maker, something that bent probability toward what was desperately wanted. In their yearning to protect me, this was the path that manifested. At the height of fear, emotion, and the threat of death, belief bloomed most fiercely, especially when the fight itself became an act of faith.

David’s voice cut through the chaos. “Now that the peeping tom has vanished, should we proceed?”

He remained suspended in the air, refusing to touch the sands as if the land itself disgusted him. In the far distance, I could see sparks of dark flame tearing across the horizon. That had to be Ru Qiu, finally keeping the annoying interloper occupied. If not for that meddler, I would have already sealed the other me within the Dark Veil and ended this farce.

“Aren’t you tired of this?” I asked. “We’ve been at it for months. We just blew each other apart moments ago from outer space. Do you really think continuing will make a difference?”

He answered without hesitation. “Of course. I now have the Hollow Star.”

I began to chant, and he seemed to shake in pain. I stopped midway and looked straight at him. “Do you understand now?”

With a thought, I summoned fragments of the Dark Veil and let them coil around my armor. The white plates darkened, veins of black spreading across them, until only my golden cape remained untouched, still illuminated by my Divine Spark.

“If you think you can talk me down,” David jeered, raising his sword, “then you clearly haven’t been listening.”

He forcibly drew quintessence from the Hollow Star, and I felt the crown respond, eager and vicious. I hastily resumed my chant, tightening the binding words meant to constrict his will through the crown itself. David’s resolve was monstrous. He pushed through the pressure by sheer force of will. A radiant slash erupted from his blade, sharp enough to cut space itself, then abruptly vanished and reappeared as something twisted and anomalous.

It struck the tree.

I watched in shock as an enormous wound carved itself across its trunk, sap and power spilling like blood. David lost balance and crashed into the sands below. I reacted instantly, the Dark Veil surging beneath him, wrapping around his body before he could recover. The tree regenerated almost immediately, its wound knitting shut as I felt my disciples channel the Source to heal it.

“This is unfortunate,” I said quietly, “but I suppose you have to go.”

I prepared the seal. Using the Dark Veil, I pried at his helm and exposed the Hollow Star, the crown gleaming atop his head. The moment it was revealed, the artifact screamed with its vengeful will.

“SLAUGHTER! SLAUGHTER! KILL! FREEDOM!”

I grimaced. I had almost forgotten how cursed this thing truly was. I still could not believe that, in the past, I had subdued it with words alone.

“But first,” I muttered, tightening my grip, “I’m going to need that back.”

When I let him steal the crown, I had already implanted a Manasoul within it, hidden deep enough that even he would not notice in the heat of battle. I still needed the Hollow Star, if only to resurrect everyone who had perished in this idiotic war. A miracle on that scale was something only the Hollow Star could guarantee.

I did not trust the Source to do it. There was still too much I did not understand about its nature, its limits, or its will. The Hollow Star was different. I knew it. I had spoken with it. That familiarity mattered more than anything else.

I tried to reclaim the crown by force, weaving Divine Possession together with Egress through the Manasoul I had implanted within it. The connection was there. I could feel it clearly, like a hand wrapped around a thread I had never let go of. Yet the Hollow Star did not budge. It remained firmly upon David’s head, as if it had chosen him.

He turned toward me then, his eyes bloodshot, not with rage, but with something far worse. Pity.

“I understand now,” he said quietly.

The Dark Veil constricting him was severed in an instant. I felt it tear apart, not pushed back or unraveled, but cleanly cut. My thoughts stalled. How was that even possible? The Hollow Star radiated a brilliance I had never seen before, tainted by something alien and deeply wrong. Light erupted from the crown, while David’s cape darkened into a deeper, heavier red.

“Curse Reversal,” David uttered.

White petals bloomed across his armor, drifting slowly through the air. The dark plates that once embodied the countless curses, plagues, and malignant sorceries he had accumulated shed their meaning entirely, transforming into immaculate white.

“Do you know what the red in my cape symbolizes?” he asked. “It’s my resentment. The infernal proof that this is not where I belong.”

I raised a wall of the Dark Veil between us. It split apart as if it were nothing. David was already in front of me, fragments of the Dark Veil dissolving into nothingness around him.

“Exalted Renewal,” we said at the same time.

Our blades met. I felt the impact reverberate through my arms as I summoned more of the Dark Veil from beneath the desert, shaping it into jagged spikes meant to impale him from every direction. They struck his armor and bounced away uselessly, as if repelled by an unseen law.

David followed with another swing. “Frost Smite.”

“Searing Smite,” I countered, heat crashing against cold. I chained the motion into “War Smite,” driving a kick into his chest and sending him flying across the sands.

As he skidded to a halt, I forced myself to think. The Dark Veil was not simply a weapon. It was a phenomenon, something that restricted, filtered, and rejected passage based on parameters even I did not fully understand. It repelled the Supreme Void. It resisted Outsiders. Aixin and Conquest bypassed it only by sending avatars, shadows of themselves rather than their true forms.

David had once been bound by those same restrictions. If not for my own distortions of destiny, I should have been as well. My circumstances were unique, born from dying too many times, from regenerating out of nothingness through the Source’s interference. That was why I could defy the Dark Veil before, why I could wield it now as its master.

My intent was clear. I wanted to harm him.

And yet, every time I shaped the Dark Veil into a weapon, David ignored it and advanced, forcing me back step by step. Something fundamental had changed within him.

“You can just ask,” whispered an enormous Eye that briefly opened above David’s head.

I blinked, and it vanished as if it had never been there.

“Eldritch Blast,” David said calmly.

The force slammed into me, carrying layered curses and distortions. I endured it by instinct, silently casting Cleanse as the filth tried to cling to my soul.

“Making deals with the Void is not the answer,” I said, forcing the words out as I steadied myself.

A voice answered me, low and amused. “Oh, he didn’t. It’s the other way around.”

David swung wide, darkness exploding outward and swallowing my vision. I reacted instantly, casting Cleanse again as the blindness peeled away.

He was gone.

“He’s after your disciples,” the Void whispered.

I invoked the Animal Path’s Art of Transforming and became a cheetah, my body folding into a streamlined blur as Divine Speed and Zealot’s Stride stacked together. The desert flattened beneath me, distance collapsing into irrelevance. When I reached the limit of that form, I shifted again, feathers erupting from flesh as I became a hawk, spamming Flash Step until the sky itself seemed to tear and stutter around me.

I reverted to my human form mid-motion and cast Halo of Restriction at where David should have been. The spell closed on empty air.

“Void Slash,” a voice said behind me.

The Void whispered urgently into my ears, warning me not to block it, not even to think about it. I reacted on instinct, ducking low and angling my blade upward to parry. The attack did not behave like a slash at all. The sword shifted trajectory and stabbed straight into my shoulder, biting deep. I grimaced, realizing too late that listening to the voice had been a mistake.

David twisted the blade calmly. “Heavenly Punishment.”

The explosion tore me apart. Sands vitrified into glass as light and force erased my position. I clung to fragments of my armor as consciousness faded, then forcibly triggered Spell Resonance.

“Divine Word: Raise.”

I resurrected in a rush of pain and light, my armor incomplete, pieces missing or shattered. David was already far away, moving with singular intent toward one of my disciples. When his blade pierced me earlier, I had managed to embed a Manasoul within him. I seized that connection and activated Castling, reappearing beside him in a blur.

I swung with everything I had. “Thunderous Smite.”

“Darkness Smite,” David countered.

The Manasoul I had castled from detonated in the distance, transforming into a homing Heavenly Punishment aimed straight at him.

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“Judgment Severance,” David said.

The world went quiet for a heartbeat as all supernatural forces were swallowed. In that brief window, we fought with nothing but steel and skill. I cut his face twice, shallow but clean. He returned the favor, striking where my armor had not yet reformed.

When Judgment Severance ended, I drew upon the Dark Veil beneath us, ensnaring one of his feet and locking it in place.

“Holy Sword,” I cast, radiant light surging along my blade.

“Immortal Art: Exalted Godslayer,” David replied without hesitation.

Yeah, two could play that game!

“Immortal Art: Exalted Godslayer,” I said.

I felt a chill as I answered with the same art, realizing too late what that meant. Our strikes landed simultaneously. A red rift opened across my neck, tearing through helm and flesh alike. My helm shattered, fragments spinning away. I twisted at the last instant, smashing the flat of his sword aside with the broken remains of my helm instead of letting it finish the cut.

David staggered back with a golden rift carved across his chest. I immediately used the Dark Veil to stitch my wound closed, forcing the rent to seal. David responded by flooding himself with Hollow Star’s quintessence, healing through sheer excess of power. I could feel my Divine Spark dim slightly, and I knew his had suffered damage as well.

It was infuriating how adaptable he was. His Dual Legacy was clearly at work, and the second path was almost certainly Warlock. The Void from his timeline had become his patron, willingly or not.

The Void whispered to me again, smooth and patient, telling me it was always there if I needed help, that I only had to ask. I ignored it completely.

David then did something utterly unreasonable. “Summon: Holy Spirit.”

A second David appeared beside him. No, not exactly David. It was David_69, the game character, rendered into reality with terrifying fidelity. I moved to destroy it immediately, but David used Castling. They swapped places seamlessly, and my strike was parried by the original instead.

David looked at the copy with an emotionless expression and spoke as if issuing a trivial command. “Go kill his disciples for me.”

David_69 vanished, leaving behind a silence that felt far more dangerous than any explosion.

As we exchanged blows, I could tell David had no intention of losing. He would do anything to win, even if it meant his own death. That realization carried weight, because he was someone who wanted nothing more than to go home and did not want to die. In that sense, he was my complete opposite. I had long since accepted this world as something worth protecting, while he treated it as an obstacle to be escaped.

In hindsight, bringing my disciples here was probably a mistake. In the end, this had never been a duel meant to be decided by two people alone. It was always a collective struggle, shaped by choices, faith, and consequences that spread far beyond us. I had always fought with that in mind, even when I pretended otherwise.

Our swords locked, sparks skittering between the blades as our wills pressed against each other. I spoke through clenched teeth, trying one last time. “You should’ve just let me seal you.”

He ignored the sentiment entirely and forced more strength into the bind. “I regret that I didn’t do better hurting you,” he said coldly. “I should’ve started with your disciples first. Clearly, you see this world as a paradise, a beautiful dream. Don’t you see it? It’s a nightmare.”

I pushed back and broke the lock, shaking my head as I answered him. “You don’t know that.”

The stage had already been set, and all the performers were in motion whether we liked it or not. Even with Exalted Renewal sustaining me, I did not see a clear path to victory. Once again, it was a stalemate, the kind that promised only escalation and ruin if it continued. In the end, I knew what I had to do. I needed to reclaim the completed Source, and David’s attempt to target my disciples made his intentions painfully clear.

“Master, we’re done with the preparations,” Ding Cai said through the Qi Speech channel I had left open. 𝐟𝕣𝗲𝕖𝕨𝗲𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝗲𝚕.𝗰𝚘𝐦

I smiled despite everything. “Summon.”

I invoked my Immortal Art, Divine Appointment of the Faithful, and stepped back as the space around me folded. My disciples appeared one after another, forming a circle at my back. Lu Gao stood steady and resolute. Ren Jingyi’s eyes burned with determination. Hei Mao and Yuen Fu took guarded stances, while Ding Cai looked nervous but resolute. Ren Zhe clutched his trumpet, eyes wide but unafraid.

David scoffed at the sight. “What is the meaning of this? Are you thinking of handing them over peacefully after everything?”

I dismissed my Six Paths Unity and separated the souls, bestowing one to each disciple. The fragments of the Source floated back to me, and I joined them together into a single orb, still fractured, still incomplete, but whole enough to matter. I held it in my hand and met David’s gaze.

“Are you not curious,” I asked calmly, “why I didn’t use it immediately when I got my hands on it? Why I severed it into six parts and sent it to my disciples instead?”

“Hand it to me,” David said flatly, extending his hand.

The truth was that I doubted myself. I was not certain I could wield the Source without losing control. It had a will of its own, subtle and insistent, and even at half strength it had tested my limits. My disciples could only use it passively, yet even then it had reshaped their providence and bent outcomes in their favor. I had performed miracles with it in its fractured state, but trusting myself with its full authority felt reckless.

Giving it to David would have been the height of foolishness. Still, I had a reputation to maintain, and spite had always been one of my defining virtues.

I walked past my disciples and stopped a short distance from him, holding out the orb. “If I give it to you,” I said, “promise me that you will leave the Hollowed World alone.”

David laughed under his breath. “And what, you want me to seal that with a verbal promise?”

“If the two of us can get what we want,” I replied evenly, “wouldn’t that be the best ending possible? I just want my people safe. While you still want to go home, you can do that for me, right?”

He stared at the Source for a long moment before holding his hand out again. “Then swear on it.”

I raised the Source between us, and the desert seemed to fall silent as if the world itself was listening. I drew a slow breath and felt my Divine Spark steady, anchoring my will. This was not a bargain spoken lightly, nor a threat wrapped in honeyed words. It was an oath, and oaths had weight in this world.

“I, Da Wei, swear this oath. With the Heavens as my divine witness, with my Spark, my faith, and my very existence as collateral, I will relinquish the Source to the existence before me. I will give it freely and without deceit, if and only if he swears to leave the Hollowed World alone, never again to interfere with its fate, its people, or its flow of destiny.”

The air trembled as the oath took form. I felt it bind to me, threading through my soul like a brand. David stared at me for a long moment.

“I, David, swear this oath as the recipient of the Source,” he said. “With the Heavens as witness, with my will, my power, and my right to claim destiny, I swear that if the Source is given to me, I will leave the Hollowed World alone. I will depart from it and never again impose myself upon its people, its wars, or its future.”

The oath wrapped around him as well

Oaths had power, but most of the time they were symbolic, enforced by conscience, reputation, or fear of retaliation. This one was different. Under the layered influence of our Ophanim, the ‘surface’ of the Source, and the unnatural resonance we shared as counterparts, the oath had taken on a far more literal weight. I could feel it humming in my bones, a law etched directly into causality. Failure to fulfill our words would not result in irony or regret, but in immediate and catastrophic consequence.

David held the Source out in his hand, studying the cracked orb with a frown. “Now how am I supposed to use it?”

I answered without hesitation. “Study it on your own time. I suggest you leave now.”

The sands beneath my feet shuddered. Threads of the Dark Veil began leaking upward like black smoke trapped beneath skin, restless and irritated. I grimaced and added, “That’s not me, by the way.”

I truly did not know what, exactly, was enforcing the oath we just made. I only knew it was something greater than either of us, something that existed outside our mutual awareness. If I had to guess, it was the Source itself, though not the ‘thing’ David was holding. That orb, shaped like a tiny Earth, was only one surface, one expression of something far more abstract and layered.

David stared at it for a moment longer, then let out a short breath. “I guess this is farewell. It’s a pity I can’t take the Hollowed World for myself, but I should be satisfied with this. First, I want Yuan Shun. I can’t just leave my disciple here, right?”

I had honestly expected him to be heartless enough to abandon her. The fact that he did not almost annoyed me more. I kept my voice level. “She has to answer for the crimes she committed. Someone has to take the blame.”

He scoffed. “So responsible. Truly the Holy Emperor—”

He stopped mid-sentence.

A faint, crystalline crack echoed across the desert. The sound was small, but impossibly clear. The Source in his hand fractured, a visible fault line crawling across its surface.

I sighed inwardly. It had been too much to hope he would simply leave.

David turned on me, fury blazing in his eyes. “What did you do?”

The Source shattered completely at that exact moment, breaking into pieces of light that scattered like dying embers. I met his gaze evenly. “Did you really not find it strange how easily I split the Source into six parts? Or why I never bothered to use it when I clearly had the chance?”

He froze.

“Our predecessor already split it once,” I continued. “What does that tell you, if not that the thing was already broken? All I did was accelerate its destruction, exhaust what utility it still had through my disciples, and then give it back to you.”

His shout tore through the air. “You tricked me!”

“No,” I replied calmly. “I didn’t. Because the oaths we took are still in effect.”

The Dark Veil responded immediately. David began to sink into it, slowly and inexorably, as if the world itself were rejecting his presence. The black substance climbed his legs like a patient tide.

“It looks like your lack of understanding about the Source is your downfall,” I said. “That thing you received was just one surface of it. The Source isn’t a literal object. It’s metaphysical, layered, and conditional. Sorry, bud. You got tricked, but that isn’t my fault.”

I had already canceled Exalted Renewal the moment our oaths were completed. I took a step back. Lu Gao, Ren Jingyi, and Hei Mao moved forward without hesitation, forming the vanguard. Ding Cai and Ren Zhe stood close at my sides, while Yuen Fu positioned himself at the rear, quiet and resolute.

David was unraveling. He forced Exalted Renewal to continue, burning through his Divine Spark as the many souls within him perished one after another. The backlash was obvious now, brutal and unsustainable.

He looked at me with a chilling calm that barely masked his fury. “Da Wei, why are you hiding behind your disciples? Did the backlash hurt you so much that you have to rely on them?”

Yeah, the backlash hurt like a son of a bitch. It felt less like recoil and more like self-mutilation, as if I had torn something vital out of myself with my own hands. Back when I first touched the completed Source, I knew immediately it was almost spent. The sensation was strange and deeply unsettling, like holding a dying star that only looked whole from the outside.

Because of the so-called special training that Martial God forced on me, I could feel the Source in a way most beings never could. It wasn’t intuition or instinct. It was intimacy. That was how I knew, even back then, that taking it for myself would have been meaningless. There was the possibility of fixing it, yes, but with an enemy like David standing in front of me, I did not have that luxury. I chose destruction instead. If it had to be destroyed, then it might as well be done right in front of him.

I really was a terrible person.

“You made a terrible mistake, David,” I said, my voice steady despite the pain tearing through me.

Ding Cai spoke up immediately, her eyes glowing faintly as calculations finished running through her mind. “Analysis complete. We have seven minutes before he is fully rejected from the Hollowed World. Possibly more if he forces himself through severe self-injury. We need to hold him back until master recovers.”

“Copy that,” answered Hei Mao nonchalantly.

David’s crimson cape exploded outward, reshaping itself into an enormous pair of silver wings. Divine light twisted and darkened around him as he uttered, “Fate Reversal.”

His armor shifted, turning pitch-black as the corruption spread even across his wings. He rose into the air, snapping the Dark Veil clinging to him like brittle chains. The pressure of his presence surged, wild and unrestrained.

“DA WEI!” he screamed. “I WILL DESTROY YOUR LOVED ONES! HOW DARE YOU TAKE AWAY THE ONE THING I CHERISHED MOST! IF YOU TAKE FROM ME, THEN I WILL TAKE EVERYTHING FROM YOU! ACCEPT MY RETRIBUTION!”

He raised one palm, and pure divine power condensed into an enormous sphere, bright enough to make the desert tremble. I was badly injured, the Source was gone, and my Divine Spark was still unstable, but I was far from helpless.

“Immortal Art: Divine Appointment of the Faithful,” I said, lifting one hand before bringing it down sharply. “Summon.”

The desert erupted with light as players manifested across the sands, dragged in from every corner of the Hollowed World by my Immortal Art. I might have lost the Source, and with it my ability to interact with Karen and Wen Yuhan, but my Immortal Arts were still mine.

The reactions were immediate and chaotic.

“Holy shit! Is this a special event?”

“What kind of boss is that?”

“That thing looks way above our level!”

David looked down at us with pure disdain and hurled the sphere of divine power without hesitation.

“Judgment Severance!” Lu Gao shouted.

A hellfire cross-shaped rift tore open in midair, trying to swallow the attack. High-level players followed his lead, voices overlapping as they cried out the same skill. The sphere detonated anyway, overwhelming their efforts. Players died one after another in the explosion, bodies disintegrating into light, but my core group held firm.

Ren Jingyi took the brunt of it, her barrier barely holding as her body absorbed catastrophic damage. Small scales shimmered across her face as blood ran down her chin. Ren Zhe stood beside her, his entire body wreathed in faint blue flames as he absorbed residual force from the blast.

I stepped forward, ignoring the pain screaming through my body, and raised my voice so David could hear me clearly.

“Does it irritate you?” I shouted. “Do you hate me more now? Look at you. You are still alone, and I have many. Are you sure you can take them all?”

I laughed, the sound harsh and defiant. “Does it feel unfair? Do you want to hurt me? Then come on. Take your best shot.”