Immortal Paladin

482 Fractured Alliance

I stood at the top of the city wall and watched as the small army marched into New Risendawn.

The gates had been opened under careful supervision, but the atmosphere inside the city immediately grew tense. People stopped what they were doing to watch the procession. Merchants paused mid-transaction, workers leaned on their tools, and children were quickly pulled aside by worried parents.

The army itself was already divided before it even stepped through the gates.

Two major factions formed the backbone of the group, namely the Light and the Dark. And even those two were further split into smaller subgroups with their own loyalties and grudges. Their armor and banners made the divisions obvious.

Some wore holy insignias and gleaming armor blessed by divine rites.

Others carried weapons infused with shadow magic and ancestral curses.

Even without open hostility, the tension between them was thick enough to feel in the air.

And then there was the obvious problem.

They were armed.

An armed force marching into a recovering city was not exactly the most reassuring sight for the civilians trying to rebuild their lives.

I had no illusions about the situation.

This army was not mine.

Alice appeared beside me on the wall.

“I did what I could,” she said quietly as she watched the soldiers below. “These are the last survivors I could find.”

I glanced at her.

“How did you manage it?”

Alice crossed her arms and leaned casually against the stone battlement.

“In my long life, I learned quite a few things,” she said with a faint smirk. “Secrets, routes, hidden sanctuaries… all kinds of knowledge that becomes useful when the world starts collapsing.”

Her eyes gleamed slightly.

“And I didn’t hold back from abusing any of it.”

She gestured toward the army.

“On top of that, I’m not exactly weak. The power I accumulated in the Hollowed World added quite nicely to what I already had, allowing me a more forceful approach.”

Behind us, Archelon cleared his throat.

“I must admit,” the elderly pope said, “our people were quite surprised when someone suddenly forced their way through the secret passage leading to our sanctuary. That passage was meant to remain hidden from the outside world forever. Yet she found it and walked through it as though she had known its location all along.”

Seraphae let out a soft laugh.

“Oh, our reaction was even better,” the dark elf queen said with obvious amusement. “My people were preparing for their final stand when she appeared. Imagine our surprise when the supposed intruder turned out to be a former Mistress of the Dark. Except she wasn’t a vampire anymore.”

Seraphae’s crimson eyes sparkled.

“She looked almost human.”

Her tone carried a hint of pride that she didn’t bother hiding.

Both of them were clearly trying to sound humble.

Neither of them succeeded.

If anything, the dark elf sounded particularly proud of the dramatic story.

Before the conversation could continue, another presence floated up beside us.

Gu Jie arrived.

In her floating toddler form, she drifted up to the wall like a small spirit riding the wind. Compared to the last time she came to me, almost crying, during Herald’s visit, she looked far calmer now.

She landed lightly beside Alice.

“Mother,” she said gently, “please come with me. We need to talk.”

Alice blinked in surprise.

“Right now?”

Gu Jie nodded.

I turned toward her.

“Gu Jie,” I said, “go fetch Ao Lun for me.”

She immediately straightened slightly.

“Yes, Father.”

Then she bowed her head politely.

“Your will be done.”

With that, she floated away while Alice followed her. That left me standing alone with the two faction leaders. “I want to be gentle about this,” I said calmly. “I would rather avoid using a heavy hand.”

I turned to face them.

“So I hope we can be honest with each other. For one thing, this is my city. That means my law is absolute here.”

Archelon frowned immediately.

“That is not correct,” he said firmly. “This city has always been known as the City of Adventurers, the last bastion of humanity that stands against the Great Enemy. It does not belong to you alone.”

Seraphae folded her arms and smiled faintly.

“And we are not blind to the mythology surrounding beings like you,” she added. “The Voice that whispers guidance to the immortal champions of this realm. Some even say you are responsible for what is happening right now. If that is true, then perhaps you bear some responsibility for the chaos that followed.”

Their reactions reminded me of something.

Back in LLO, there were NPCs who possessed certain traits similar to the players. They were powerful. Many of them lived extremely long lives. They couldn’t respawn like players did, but they could still be incredibly dangerous.

Some of them even interfered with player activities directly, pursuing their own agendas without caring about the consequences.

At their core, NPCs were still people. They had motivations, beliefs, and their own way of interpreting the world around them. Which meant they were rarely easy to deal with.

I looked at both of them calmly.

“You misunderstand something.”

They waited for me to continue.

“I am not a threat to the Light,” I said. “And I am not a threat to the Dark either.”

I shrugged slightly.

“Because in the grand scheme of things, both of your factions are insignificant to me.”

Both of them stiffened slightly at that.

“I am not here to conquer your religions or destroy your traditions,” I continued calmly. “I am something else entirely. I am the Change that this world needs.”

Joan and Gu Jie’s research had already made the truth painfully clear. If Losten was going to survive what was coming, the current structure of the world would have to change completely. And that change would revolve around one central figure.

“Only through me,” I said quietly, “can this world be saved.”

It was the truth, even if it sounded like the most arrogant declaration imaginable.

Seraphae was the first to snap. She threw her hands up in frustration, her crimson eyes burning as she glared at me. “I cannot take this any longer,” she said sharply. “Why must we pretend to be subservient to you? I can bend the knee to Alice the Kinslayer. That much I can accept. But you? A lost soul from beyond?”

Her lips curled into a sneer.

“What could someone like you possibly understand about ruling a world like this? Your kind are nothing more than freelancing mercenaries.”

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I didn’t react immediately.

A Lost Soul.

That was what people in this world often called players from LLO. The name wasn’t exactly inaccurate either. We were outsiders who had descended into their reality and changed it in ways most of them still struggled to understand.

And the mercenary comment?

That was fair.

Players treated quests, wars, and even politics like contract work most of the time.

Archelon stepped forward next.

“I must agree with the princess,” the old pope said in a measured but firm tone. “As the Pope of the Council of the Faithful, I speak with the authority of the Church. You are a paladin, are you not? Then you would do well to heed my words and refrain from provoking us so recklessly. The Church still respects Lady Alice as the Holy Woman. However, that respect does not extend to you.”

His tone grew sharper.

“You are nothing more than her guardian. And let us not forget the insult you committed when you dared to touch Lady Alice, the Holy Woman, and even go so far as to have a child with her.”

I scoffed, aware it was more complicated than that.

“Former Holy Woman, you mean? That title stopped meaning anything the moment your church abandoned her,” I continued casually. “Yes, I understand the situation. She was turned into a vampire. But I still wonder how that happened in the first place. If it was incompetence, then I suppose I can only blame your predecessor.”

Archelon’s face darkened.

I turned to Seraphae.

“And you? Hm. Actually, I don’t really have anything to say to you. I mean, I understand why you hate me. I killed a lot of your kind back in the day. And honestly? I don’t remember most of their names.”

Seraphae’s teeth clenched audibly.

“I am very aware of your reputation,” she said coldly. “O Slayer of Lost Souls. I know your story. I know your love for the arena. Your name echoes in too many battlefields to ignore. In terms of prestige, you match the Kinslayer rather well. But you are not one of us. Perhaps I could tolerate the Vessel you used to inhabit. But your kind?”

Her voice dropped into something far colder.

“You abandoned this world.”

That one actually hurt.

She wasn’t wrong.

When the Voice or players disappeared from this world, it meant the player characters had lost their connection, and the blessings that once allowed them to fight so recklessly vanished. In a sense, we had all abandoned this place.

I wasn’t much different from Ao Lun in that regard.

After a moment, I sighed lightly.

“Alright,” I said. “Let’s try something simpler. We clearly have some… unresolved differences. How about we settle this in a straightforward way? You can strike me down. If either of you manages to kill me even once, I will surrender my authority over you.”

Archelon narrowed his eyes.

“And what if we do not allow you to resurrect?” he asked slowly. “What if we slay you in truth so that you disappear forever?”

That was a fair concern.

In this world, resurrection mechanics had been abused so heavily that multiple organizations had developed ways to counter them. The Council of the Faithful in particular specialized in resurrection magic and that included the methods required to nullify it.

I shrugged.

“That sounds like a very childish thought. I won’t lose,” I continued calmly. “Why do you think I even suggested this arrangement? Still, I admit it would be a valuable opportunity for both of you, regardless if I speak the truth or not. After all, I did say my law is—”

Archelon slammed his staff into the ground.

“Exile!”

The world vanished. One moment I stood on the city wall. The next moment I was floating in absolute darkness. The Exile spell had trapped me inside a small isolated dimension.

I blinked slowly.

“Well,” I muttered. “That’s fun.”

My qi reserves were still partially drained from the fight with the Origin King earlier. That meant I probably wouldn’t rely on my usual methods for this one.

“Guess we’re doing this the fashionable way.”

I pulled a thin fragment from the Dark Veil and shaped it into a single sword. I waited. Exile spells rarely lasted long. While the temporary dimension held me in place, I quietly began stacking buffs on myself.

“Lion’s Courage.”

Warm energy flowed through my body.

“Shield of Faith.”

A protective barrier formed around me.

“Holy Wrath.”

My presence began glowing faintly.

“Blessed Weapon.”

The blade shimmered with divine light.

A moment later, the Exile dimension collapsed. Reality snapped back into place. I found myself standing in the middle of a forest. Trees surrounded me on all sides. Ah. They used a player exploit. While I was trapped inside Exile, they must have used Mass Teleportation to relocate the battlefield entirely.

I chuckled softly.

“I didn’t expect the Pope to pull out a player strategy.”

A voice cut through the trees.

“Don’t get distracted.”

Seraphae stepped out from the forest shadows with her single-edged sword drawn. The moment she moved, a storm of sword techniques erupted toward me.

I raised my blade calmly.

Clang.

Clang.

Clang.

Each attack was parried with effortless precision. Her strikes were fast, but they weren’t fast enough.

Seraphae did not waste time talking after the first exchange.

Her sword came again in a tight arc aimed at my ribs, the movement smooth and lethal. I rotated my wrist and redirected the blade with a shallow deflection, letting her momentum carry her past me before snapping my own strike toward her shoulder.

She twisted away at the last second.

Our blades clashed again.

The rhythm of the fight settled into something pure and clean. There was neither spells nor tricks, just swordsmanship. Seraphae attacked with a style built on speed and precision, every movement meant to exploit small openings. Her cuts flowed together in seamless chains, each strike designed to lead naturally into the next.

I answered with efficiency.

My blade intercepted hers again and again, turning her offense aside with minimal effort. The forest echoed with the sharp ring of steel striking steel.

After several exchanges, I activated my Ophanim fully.

The world sharpened instantly.

Tiny details appeared everywhere. Muscle tension, shifting weight, the angle of her wrist before each swing. The analysis completed itself quickly as the Ophanim mapped the logic of her movements.

Once the pattern revealed itself, dismantling it became easy.

Seraphae’s next strike came low, aiming for my thigh before rising upward.

I stepped into the attack and cut across her line, forcing her sword off course while my own blade grazed the edge of her guard.

She pulled back sharply.

“Shadow Step,” Seraphae muttered.

Her body vanished.

A moment later she reappeared behind me.

“Ultimate Skill: Dimhollow’s Rest.”

Her sword plunged toward the base of my neck.

I moved before the blade could land.

“Flash Parry.”

Aura surged through my arm as my sword snapped backward in a precise arc. Steel met steel behind my head and deflected the killing blow. As our weapons connected, I noticed something unexpected.

Seraphae was using aura too.

I thought I was misreading the signal, but the Ophanim confirmed it immediately. Her attacks carried the same energy signature I had seen on the False Earth. That power was not unique to one world after all.

Aura was not limited by location.

It was limited by talent.

And Seraphae clearly possessed martial talent.

I shifted my stance and released a technique of my own.

“Stagger.”

A pulse of World-Force struck the ground beneath her feet. The subtle disruption threw off her balance for half a second.

I raised my sword.

“Ultimate Skill: Holy Sword.”

Radiant energy surged along the blade as I transformed my aura into Holy Aura, amplifying the weapon with divine brilliance.

At that moment, a voice boomed from above.

“Heavenly Punishment.”

I looked up.

Archelon hovered in the air using a flight spell, his staff raised high. Above him, an enormous golden sword formed and began descending toward me.

I answered calmly.

“Divine Smite.”

My blade swung upward.

The radiant arc cut straight through the golden sword as if it were paper. The massive construct shattered into fragments of light. The situation became clear immediately. Seraphae carried an Assassin Legacy, which meant a dexterity-focused combat class. Archelon possessed a Priest Legacy, a faith-based caster.

I decided to end the dance.

“Divine Speed.”

My body accelerated instantly.

“Zealot’s Stride.”

The ground beneath my feet blurred.

“Flash Step.”

The triple movement chain closed the distance faster than Seraphae could react. I appeared in front of her with my sword already descending.

Seraphae’s eyes widened.

“That speed—!”

“Thunderous Smite.”

The fastest attack in the smite series detonated from my blade.

She barely raised her sword in time to block, but the impact still launched her across the forest clearing.

I turned my attention to Archelon.

The old priest was already preparing another spell.

I pointed my sword toward him.

“Heavenly Punishment.”

A colossal golden sword erupted from my weapon and surged toward him.

Archelon responded instantly.

“Sanctuary.

“Shield of the Martyr.

“Aegis of Light.”

A cascade of defensive spells layered around him. My Heavenly Punishment cut through them all. The final barrier shattered, and the old man lost control of his flight spell, falling from the sky.

Before I could follow up, a whisper sounded behind me.

“Not yet.”

I turned.

Seraphae appeared as a blur.

She moved faster than before.

My sword rose to block, but her speed exceeded even my expectations. Her blade slipped through a tiny opening in my guard and pierced straight into my chest. Dark feathers formed around her body, drifting through the air like fragments of shadow.

“Legacy Art: Moonshadow Requiem.”

She vanished again, and then she began attacking from every direction. Each strike came from a different angle, appearing and disappearing like moonlight flickering through darkness. A single wing of pale moonlight trailed behind her movements.

The ability reminded me of Divine Transformation, except her power came entirely from her Assassin Legacy.

Cuts appeared across my body. Each one registered as true damage, bypassing normal defenses. None of the damage reflected back to her. This ‘Legacy Art’ thing was far more sophisticated than I expected.

Alice probably could have crushed these two without much effort, but it was clear they were not weak opponents.

Another voice spoke above me.

“Legacy Art: Metatron’s Promise.”

Archelon had recovered and a radiant halo formed above his head as he appeared in the sky again.

“Meteor.”

A burning mass of divine fire began falling toward the battlefield. That spell did not belong to the Priest Legacy. Apparently the old man had some hidden tricks. It probably had something to do with his Legacy Art.

Meanwhile Seraphae continued her relentless assault, forcing me to divide my attention. Her speed pushed beyond the limits of my current perception. Even with Ophanim assisting me, her movements blurred into streaks of shadow.

It seemed my Ophanim still had room to grow.

I expanded my aura outward.

“Divine Zone.”

My domain spread across the battlefield, enhancing my perception and awareness.

Through the Divine Zone, I triggered the next attack.

“War Smite.”

The strike activated behind Seraphae’s current position, launching her body toward me as the impact caught her mid-motion. I dismissed my Dark Veil sword instantly. Then I stepped forward and threw a punch.

“Divine Smite.”

My fist slammed into her midair and sent her crashing into the ground with explosive force.

Archelon descended beside me, clearly intending to grab her and escape. However, I was faster than Archelon. My hand shot forward and grabbed his throat.

“Monkey Grip.”

He froze in shock. The expanded perception from my Divine Zone surpassed even the Ophanim’s analysis speed. Before Seraphae could recover, my other hand seized her throat as well.

I lifted them both off the ground.

They struggled briefly, their faces tightening in disbelief.

“I hope this serves as a valuable lesson,” I said calmly. “Never go against me.”

My grip tightened. The sound of crushing bone echoed softly as I snapped both of their necks. Their expressions froze in shock and fear as their bodies went limp. A moment later the world shifted.

The forest vanished.

We were standing on the city wall again.

For them, it must have felt like time suddenly rewound.

Archelon staggered back slightly.

“That… that just happened.”

Seraphae touched her throat instinctively, her eyes wide.

“You killed us.”

I looked at them calmly.

“That was a projected reality,” I explained. “It already happened. And it will happen again if you decide to challenge my authority.”

Before either of them could respond, another voice spoke behind us.

“What is it, Your Majesty?”

Ao Lun had arrived.

Archelon turned sharply and his eyes widened in disbelief.

“Lord Aureon?”

The old priest looked stunned.

“One of the primary gods of the faith… what are you doing here?”

Ao Lun sighed faintly.

“It’s a long story.”

I nodded toward them. “Ao Lun,” I said, “catch them up on the situation. Explain the stakes behind the invasion of the Great Enemy. And make sure they understand exactly where they stand. At this point, I will not forgive any mistakes. Especially, from the two of you.”