Immortal Paladin

495 World Council’s Verdict

An impromptu World Council, hastily gathered, yet burdened now with something far greater than any of them had anticipated. I remained seated at the head, unmoving, letting the weight of my declaration linger deliberately.

I had not suggested a mere venture. I had called for a full descent of the Radiant Losten and, beyond that, a grand expedition into the Greater Universe at a scale that eclipsed anything this world had ever attempted. It was not just ambition. It was intrusion into the unknown on a level that bordered on madness.

They were still processing it.

Ren Xun was the first to break.

The former prince, now King of Dragons, leaned forward slightly, his golden eyes sharp with restrained agitation. Even as one of my staunchest supporters, there were lines he clearly did not intend to cross without resistance.

“This is premature,” he said, his voice measured but firm. “We have barely emerged from the aftermath of the wars that ravaged this world. Entire regions remain unstable, our forces are still reorganizing, and our people are only beginning to recover. You speak of an expedition into the Greater Universe as if we are already at our peak.”

His gaze hardened, locking onto mine.

“We have not even tapped the full extent of the resources within the Hollowed World, nor this newly descended realm of Radiant Losten. To divert attention outward now is to risk weakening everything we have just fought to stabilize.”

The chamber absorbed his words, and I could sense the subtle shift as agreement began to ripple beneath the surface.

Mao Xian followed without hesitation, his tone carrying the grounded pragmatism of someone who dealt with reality rather than ideals.

“We don’t even have a complete map of the Hollowed World yet,” he added. “Even with the players pushing boundaries daily, exploring recklessly and achieving what normal forces cannot, there’s a limit to how much ground they can cover. Entire regions remain uncharted, unexplored, and potentially dangerous.”

He folded his arms, brows furrowed.

“And now we’re talking about expanding into an entirely different universe? We’d be stretching our operational capacity thin. Too thin.”

Their opposition was expected and reasonable.

Tian En’s voice, however, cut through that growing resistance like a quiet blade.

“You are both correct,” the old woman said calmly, her frail appearance doing nothing to diminish the weight of her presence. “But you are also short-sighted.”

A few heads turned.

She continued, unbothered.

“An expedition into the Greater Universe would not merely be an act of expansion. It would be a declaration. Our people have endured chaos, war, and uncertainty. They need direction. They need confidence.”

Her eyes, aged yet piercing, shifted toward me briefly before returning to the others.

“Such an undertaking would inspire them. It would show that we are no longer reacting to threats, but shaping our own path. And beyond that, the opportunities are… significant.”

A faint pause followed.

“The conditions of foreign realms could allow us to cultivate Ascended Souls at a far more efficient rate than within the constraints of the Hollowed World.”

I watched her carefully.

She was not wrong.

But her motivations were layered. Supporting this initiative would also place the reformed Heavenly Temple in a favorable position, allowing her faction to demonstrate loyalty where once there had been division and hostility. It was a calculated alignment.

Tao Long spoke next, his voice carrying a restrained intensity.

“I find myself agreeing with Tian En.”

Ren Xun’s expression tightened slightly, but he did not interrupt.

Tao Long leaned forward, fingers interlocked.

“It would be a welcome change of pace to bring the fight to them for once, instead of waiting for threats to descend upon us. We’ve spent too long reacting.”

He exhaled slowly before continuing.

“Yes, we are recovering. That much is undeniable. But recovery does not equate to weakness. If anything, the recent war against the Origin King proved something important.”

His gaze swept across the chamber.

“The players.”

A faint murmur followed the word.

“They are not just unpredictable variables anymore. They are assets. Highly capable ones. We can afford to deploy them beyond our immediate borders without crippling our core defenses.”

He tilted his head slightly.

“With proper allocation, this expedition is not only feasible… it is sustainable.”

Yi Qiu and Liu Yana remained quiet throughout, expressing their neutrality.

The chamber began to fracture into quiet arguments, overlapping voices debating merits and consequences. It was no longer a unified reaction, but a collision of perspectives.

And then Joan spoke.

Her voice, calm yet resolute, cut cleanly through the noise.

“This discussion is premature. We are debating an expedition into the Greater Universe, when we have yet to resolve the matter directly before us. Radiant Losten. I propose that we focus on its complete descent into the Hollowed World first. Allow it to fully merge.”

Ren Xun exhaled softly, the tension in his posture easing just slightly.

“That… makes little difference to me,” he admitted. “In the end, it is just one world merging with another. Whether it completes the descent now or later does not significantly alter our situation.”

Tao Long nodded in agreement.

“I share that view,” he said. “In fact, I’ve already had my formation specialists and researchers examine the structure of Radiant Losten in detail. They’ve confirmed the hypothesis proposed by Sovereign Joan and Princess Gu Jie. If Radiant Losten remains in its current state, suspended and incomplete…”

A slight pause lingered, just enough to let the implication settle.

“…it will begin to collapse inward on itself.”

The chamber grew colder.

“It will not stabilize,” he added. “It will deteriorate. Slowly at first, then all at once.”

His voice lowered.

“In other words, leaving it as it is would be condemning it to die.”

“We cannot afford to look at this through a single lens,” said Tian En, her voice steady but now carrying a sharper edge. “The environmental impact alone would be catastrophic if mishandled. Radiant Losten is not an empty landmass to be conveniently placed. It is a fully functioning world, with its own ecosystems, its own balance.”

She folded her hands within her sleeves, her gaze sweeping across the chamber.

“There are countless species that inhabit that world, many of which we have not even begun to understand. And beyond that… there are anomalies. These so-called dungeons. Their behavior, their origins, even their connection to the magic system of that realm remain largely unknown.”

A brief pause lingered before she concluded.

“To force a full descent without understanding these variables would not be integration. It would be interference on a scale we cannot predict.”

Liu Yana followed, her tone measured, almost clinical.

“If the objective is preservation, then there are alternatives that carry significantly less risk,” she said. “Evacuation efforts, for instance. Structured relocation into the Hollowed World. It is slower, yes. More resource-intensive. But it is controlled. We minimize damage, maintain stability, and avoid introducing an entire world’s worth of unknown variables into our own ecosystem.”

Yi Qiu finally spoke, his voice calm, yet grounded in a quiet certainty.

“We have already seen what descending realms bring,” he said. “Before the Summit of the Four Powers ended, this world was in constant turmoil because of them. But after it ended… there was peace. A level of peace we did not think possible. The descent of realms does not just reshape landscapes. It destroys neighboring territories. It displaces populations. It incites conflict over newly formed regions, and that conflict spreads outward.”

A faint exhale escaped him.

“Migration is not ideal. But it is… safer. More predictable.”

Mao Xian also expressed resistance to the idea, grounding the argument in logistics.

“Even if we agree to let it descend,” he said, “where exactly would we place it? We’ve spent an enormous amount of time mapping the Hollowed World. For the first time, we’re making consistent, positive progress in understanding its layout.”

He gestured lightly.

“Dropping an entire world into it… do you understand what that does to everything we’ve built? It could overwrite known territories, distort established routes, even invalidate large portions of our current maps. This isn’t just a question of whether we can do it. It’s a question of whether we’re willing to undo years of work.”

I remained silent through all of it.

There was no need to interrupt.

Joan sat there, absorbing every word, and for a brief moment, I saw uncertainty. Not weakness, but the weight of realizing just how alone she was in this room. She and Dave had fought for their world, preserved it against impossible odds, only to now face hesitation from those who held the power to decide its fate.

Then it disappeared.

Replaced by something sharper.

Resolve.

“This is not merely a matter of feasibility,” Joan said, her voice cutting through the chamber once more. “If we leave Radiant Losten as it is… how is that any different from abandonment?”

Her eyes moved across each of them, unflinching.

“You have granted my world a seat here. You recognize it as an equal, as a fellow primary. And yet now, when its survival is at stake, you suggest we step back and watch it wither?”

Silence fell instantly.

Her next words landed heavier.

“If another territory seated here were to suffer the same fate… would you make the same decision? Would you simply allow it to collapse under the pretense of caution?”

That shut them up completely.

I caught the subtle shift in expressions. Ren Xun’s lips twitched ever so slightly, a suppressed smile betraying his amusement. Tao Long, on the other hand, wore a look that hovered somewhere between surprise and intrigue.

The rest… they saw her differently now.

An upstart.

A political outsider who had just challenged the foundation of their collective stance without hesitation.

She had no allies here.

At least, not openly.

But she still had me.

And I had no intention of letting Dave and Joan walk away from this as sovereigns of nothing. A title without land, without foundation. It would be as inconvenient as it was unacceptable, especially after the loyalty they had shown.

If I could not secure even that for those under me, then there was little point in leading at all.

I finally spoke.

“We will allow Radiant Losten to fully descend.”

Every eye turned to me.

“Unlike before, we are not bound by randomness,” I continued. “With the Dark Veil, we have the capability to determine where that world will manifest.”

My gaze shifted toward Joan.

“That does, however, come with a condition.”

A slight pause.

“Would you object to Radiant Losten descending into a hostile region? One dominated by aggressive entities and high-density monster populations?”

There was no hesitation in her response.

“I would not,” Joan said. “Radiant Losten is not unfamiliar with adversity. We have endured worse than hostile lands.”

The chamber stirred again, unease lingering in the air despite her answer.

They were still reluctant.

So I pressed further.

“If that is the case,” I said calmly, “then perhaps we should reconsider everything. The great expedition into the Greater Universe… we can abandon it.”

That caught them, exactly as intended.

“If preserving Radiant Losten is too much of a burden,” I continued, “then there is little reason to discuss expansion beyond our world at all.”

The provocation settled in.

Ren Xun exhaled softly before speaking.

“Then we should put it to a vote.”

I nodded once.

“Very well.”

I leaned back slightly.

“Those in favor of allowing Radiant Losten to fully descend into the Hollowed World…”

I raised my hand.

One by one, hands followed.

Tian En.

Ren Xun.

Tao Long.

Others joined shortly after.

When it settled, only three remained unmoved.

Yi Qiu.

Mao Xian.

Liu Yana.

The decision was clear. It was five against three in favor of Radiant Losten’s descent.

I lowered my hand before continuing.

“Now then… those in favor of proceeding with the expedition into the Greater Universe.”

This time, I did not raise my hand. For a brief moment, there was hesitation. Almost as if compelled by something unspoken, hands began to rise one after another. Even those who had argued against it earlier. Reluctance was visible in some of their expressions, but it did not stop them.

In the end, all had cast their vote in favor.

A quiet amusement settled within me.

Hah.

It seemed none of them were willing to be left behind.

“Radiant Losten shall be allowed its full descent into the Hollowed World,” I declared, my voice carrying finality that left no room for reinterpretation. “Preparations for the great expedition into the Greater Universe will begin immediately.”

Their attention sharpened.

I turned slightly toward Joan.

“You will coordinate with the Adventurer’s Guild. Work with Mao Xian and determine the optimal location for Radiant Losten’s descent. I expect efficiency and precision.”

Then my gaze swept across the rest of them.

“As for the rest of you, refine the details among yourselves. When the World Council reconvenes in full, it will be to formalize these decisions and establish the policies that will govern them.”

They responded almost in unison.

“We will see it through.”

I gave a small nod before rising.

“Good,” I said. “Then get it done.”

Without another word, I reached into the Dark Veil and cast Egress.

The chamber fractured around me.

In the blink of an eye, I found myself suspended high above the Hollowed World. The vast expanse stretched beneath me, layered with shifting terrains and fractured skies, a living testament to everything that had been built and everything that had yet to come.

I exhaled slowly.

Jue Bu could handle the rest of the council. The finer details, the endless debates, the political maneuvering… those were beneath my immediate concern now. It was almost time for me to return to the Greater Universe, and there were still pieces that needed to be set into place before I did.

Most importantly, leadership.

An expedition of that scale could not function without a singular will guiding it.

Fortunately, I already had someone in mind.

I cast Egress once more.

Space folded, and I reappeared above an enormous island dominated by a single sprawling structure. It rose like a monument to intellect and madness, layered with complex formations that pulsed faintly with energy. This was the workshop constructed by Nongmin, Zai Ai, and Sikao Biaoji. They were the greatest minds the Hollowed World had to offer when it came to invention and innovation.

The formations reacted to my presence, intricate arrays shifting in response, but my Ophanim tore through their logic effortlessly. One by one, their barriers unraveled, allowing me passage without resistance.

I stepped inside.

The interior was chaos.

Fragments of half-finished constructs littered the ground. Strange devices hummed unpredictably. Metallic debris was scattered everywhere, as if order itself had been rejected in favor of raw creation.

“—What the hell?!” a voice barked.

Sikao Biaoji turned toward me, eyes widening before his expression twisted. “You can’t just barge in like that, you damned—”

I looked at him.

“You might want to reconsider your tone,” I said flatly. “You are speaking to the Emperor.”

He froze mid-step, his mouth still slightly open before he clicked his tongue and looked away.

“…Tch. Of course it’s you.”

He looked better than the last time I had seen him. Still old, still worn, but no longer on the verge of collapsing under his own eccentricity.

The rhythmic sound of hammer striking metal echoed from deeper within.

Zai Ai stood by a forge, her form illuminated by the glow of molten heat. Sweat traced along her skin as she worked, each strike precise, deliberate, and powerful.

She did not stop when she spoke.

“Your Holy Majesty,” she greeted, her tone respectful, though her expression carried clear displeasure. “What brings you here?”

The hammer fell again.

Clang.

She didn’t even glance at me.

Instead, she asked, “How is my son doing?”

“Mao Xian is doing just fine,” I replied. “Still arguing, still working.”

Another strike.

This one heavier.

“Good,” she muttered.

I let the silence linger for a moment before asking, “Where is Nongmin?”

As if answering me directly, an explosion tore through the distance.

The entire structure trembled.

I moved instantly.

Divine Speed.

Zealot’s Stride.

Flash Step.

The world blurred, collapsing into streaks of motion as I arrived at the source in less than a heartbeat.

An enormous crater stretched before me, its edges jagged and unstable. Twisted metal debris and remnants of some massive formation was scattered everywhere.

At the center lay a charred figure, motionless and very dead.

It was Nongmin.

I raised my hand.

“Divine Word: Raise.”

Light surged downward.

His body convulsed as life was forced back into it. He inhaled sharply, a ragged, desperate breath clawing its way into his lungs.

“Blessed Regeneration,” I added.

His wounds sealed instantly, flesh restoring itself as if time had reversed. He lay there for a moment, breathing heavily, alive, and completely naked.

I glanced at him briefly before looking away.

He was fortunate I had arrived.

Otherwise, this would have been the end of him.

When he finally sat up, I observed him more closely. He looked… younger. The gray that once dominated his hair was gone, replaced with vitality that bordered on unnatural.

Eleventh Realm.

Perfect Immortal.

So the method I heard about, proposed by Tian En, had worked. Though from the unstable aura around Nongmin, it was clear he was still in the earliest stages of accumulation.

“You’re as reckless as ever,” I said, my tone carrying clear disapproval. “At this rate, you’ll kill yourself before your work amounts to anything.”

He looked at me, unbothered.

“Oh,” he said plainly. “It’s you.”

I exhaled through my nose.

In the distance, a vessel approached rapidly. A Soaring Dragon craft cut through the air before descending near the crater.

Zai Ai leapt off the moment it stabilized, rushing straight toward Nongmin.

“What were you thinking?!” she snapped, dropping to her knees beside him, hands immediately checking his body. “How many times do I have to tell you not to push your experiments this far?! Do you have any idea what would’ve happened if—”

She stopped mid-sentence, clearly restraining herself from saying more, though her expression remained sharp with anger and worry.

Sikao Biaoji followed more slowly, coming to a stop beside me.

“I swear,” he muttered, folding his arms. “Every time I’m around you, I end up feeling like a third wheel in someone else’s mess.”

I ignored that.

“Have you made any progress?” I asked. “The logistics. The improvement of warp technology.”

That caught their attention.

Nongmin, still seated in the crater, let out a small breath before answering.

“We’re close,” he said. “Very close.”

He looked up at me, a faint grin forming despite everything.

“Give us a little more time,” he added. “We’ll be ready when you need us.”