Immortal Paladin

I followed Cheng Bao through the sprawling Woodland Fortress until we reached the central palace. Rather than escorting me any farther, he stopped before an intricately carved gate of darkwood reinforced with bronze vines. With a respectful nod, he left me in the care of a group of ladies in waiting while he disappeared deeper into the palace. Judging from the relaxed confidence on his face, he had no concerns about leaving me alone among strangers. Either he trusted his lord's arrangements completely, or he believed I wouldn't dare cause trouble here. He wasn't entirely wrong.

The women greeted me with warm smiles that bordered on dangerous. Each possessed a different kind of beauty, as though they had been carefully selected to appeal to every conceivable preference. One carried herself with elegant grace, her long emerald hair cascading over a flowing jade dress that accentuated every gentle movement. Another had bronze skin and fiery crimson eyes, her raven-black hair braided into countless delicate strands decorated with golden ornaments that chimed softly whenever she moved. A fox-eared beauty wore a teasing smile that never quite reached her amber eyes, while another possessed pale silver hair that framed an almost ethereal face capable of making saints question their convictions. Their perfumes mingled into an intoxicating fragrance of flowers, herbs, and faint spiritual incense, creating an atmosphere that was every bit as calculated as it was alluring.

I was ushered into an enormous bath carved from polished white stone. Steam rose from the fragrant water, carrying the soothing aroma of medicinal herbs that eased the fatigue accumulated over the past two weeks. Gentle hands worked with practiced precision, washing away the grime that even repeated castings of Cleanse couldn't completely erase. They brushed through my hair, scrubbed my shoulders, and fussed over every insignificant detail while engaging me in casual conversation. More than once, one of them would lean just a little too close, her fingers lingering against my arm or chest for a heartbeat longer than necessary.

The flirting was entirely unnecessary.

They weren't trying to seduce me.

Instead, they were examining me.

Every smile concealed careful observation. Every accidental touch was an excuse to inspect the firmness of my muscles or subtly probe my meridians. I caught minute fluctuations of spiritual energy brushing against my body as hidden appraisal techniques activated one after another. Their methods were refined enough to fool most cultivators, but Ophanim laid every trick bare before my eyes.

Level 63.

Level 68.

Level 71.

Nearly every woman surrounding me stood somewhere within the sixties or low seventies. Their strength immediately reminded me of the black-robed cultivators I'd crossed blades with not long ago. Individually, they weren't particularly threatening. Together, however, they formed a surprisingly competent intelligence network disguised as palace attendants.

Since they insisted on learning about me, I returned the favor.

Ophanim quietly unfolded countless alternate timelines before collapsing them into usable information. Every passing conversation revealed another piece of their lives. One had once served as a wandering mercenary before being recruited into the palace. Another came from a fallen noble family that had pledged eternal loyalty to the lord residing here. A fox spirit secretly worried about her younger brother serving on the northern frontier, while another attendant had mastered poison arts before abandoning assassination in exchange for a quieter life within these walls. They believed they were carefully extracting information from an unfamiliar guest.

None of them realized they had already told me far more than I had revealed.

The attendants weren't the only ones watching.

Beyond the elegant walls, hidden formations concealed numerous silent observers. Others lurked above the rafters and within hollow spaces between the ceilings, suppressing their presence with techniques that would have fooled even the most perceptive warriors. Their levels fluctuated around the same level as the women attending me.

Sneaky.

Just not sneaky enough.

If I were to judge their standards honestly, they were roughly comparable to the Night Blades and the Hei Clan back home. That was hardly an insult. Since the Great Beast's attacks had ended, both organizations had entered something of a golden age. Conquest's successful infiltration campaigns had proven the importance of intelligence gathering throughout the Greater Universe, demanding an ever-growing network of spies, scouts, and covert operatives. The number of active agents we required had practically quadrupled overnight.

It had placed an enormous burden on the Hollowed World’s finances.

Thankfully, the collapse of the old Underworld had also presented unprecedented opportunities. Between salvaging abandoned treasures, reclaiming forgotten vaults, and securing valuable territories during the chaos, the Federation had accumulated enough wealth to soften the blow.

"Hah..."

A quiet chuckle escaped me.

I hoped my players were making me rich.

Before entering the Tower and beginning my seclusion, I had finally opened the slowly rebuilding Underworld as a new map for the players. Hei Mao had been left in charge of overseeing its restoration, and there was no shortage of quests involving reconstruction, monster suppression, and resource gathering. Every harvested spirit ore, every reclaimed herb garden, and every repaired district translated into revenue flowing straight back into the Hollowed World.

Those little money-printing machines had better be working hard while I was away.

Despite spending the last two weeks living more like a caveman than a cultivator, I hadn't exactly looked the part. Cleanse remained one of the greatest quality-of-life techniques ever invented. I had cast it on myself religiously every single day, keeping dirt, blood, and unpleasant odors from accumulating no matter how miserable my circumstances became. The attendants still insisted on pampering me from head to toe, but their work was considerably easier than it otherwise would have been.

For my part, I simply relaxed.

This might really be the vacation I needed.

The warm water eased muscles I hadn't realized were tense, and while my body enjoyed the bath, my consciousness wandered elsewhere. Ophanim branched into alternate timelines, allowing me to casually explore sections of the palace that remained physically inaccessible. Corridors unfolded before my sight, hidden training halls revealed themselves beneath illusion arrays, and countless conversations played out across distant chambers.

The overwhelming gaze that had monitored my arrival never returned.

Whoever owned this palace had noticed my little excursions.

They simply didn't care.

That realization intrigued me far more than any hidden corridor.

Eventually, the attendants declared their work complete. They dressed me in robes woven from impossibly fine silk dyed in shades of silver and deep azure. Flowing wave-like patterns shimmered across the fabric whenever spiritual energy passed through it, making the entire outfit appear as though moonlight danced upon an endless ocean. They also gave me nice polished boots. After everything, I finally resembled a respectable cultivator again instead of a survivor emerging from the wilderness.

It was a shame, since I'd grown oddly attached to my caveman cosplay.

The boar tusk spear, however, wasn't going anywhere.

A palace guard waiting outside frowned the moment he spotted it. "You must leave your weapon here before entering the inner palace."

Before I could answer, Cheng Bao stepped forward. "It is unnecessary," he said calmly. "Our lord has granted him permission to carry his weapon inside."

The guard stiffened immediately before lowering his head. "As my lord commands."

That only deepened my curiosity.

Very few rulers willingly allowed armed strangers into the heart of their palace. Whoever Cheng Bao served either possessed absolute confidence in his own strength or simply wasn't concerned about the danger I represented.

Either possibility made me eager to meet him.

Massive doors carved with ancient trees slowly swung inward.

The inner palace stretched before me in breathtaking grandeur. Pillars resembling colossal living trunks supported a ceiling painted with stars that seemed to shift with every step. Spiritual light flowed through intricate formations beneath the polished floor, illuminating a throne carved from a single piece of dark jade at the end of the hall.

Someone already occupied it.

He had dark skin that contrasted sharply against elegant black robes embroidered with silver constellations. His short, tightly curled hair framed a face both youthful and impossibly ancient. The moment our eyes met, I felt as though I were staring into a bottomless abyss that quietly swallowed everything around it. He wasn't releasing his aura deliberately, yet every breath he took radiated unquestionable authority.

I stopped in my tracks.

"...Wendell?"

The name escaped my lips before I could stop myself.

The man sitting upon the throne raised an eyebrow, genuine curiosity flickering across his otherwise composed expression.

"I believe," he said evenly, "that this is our first meeting."

His dark eyes remained fixed on mine.

"So tell me, stranger... how is it that you know my name?"

I took a slow breath before switching languages.

English rolled off my tongue as naturally as breathing.

"My name's David," I said with a smile. "Well... at least it used to be. We came from the same planet. Earth. Though I doubt that's a name you've heard in a very long time. I've spent a long time trying to find traces of you. Honestly, I thought I'd only ever hear stories. What are you doing here? Better yet, how the hell are you still alive?"

Ophanim stirred within my left eye, allowing me to get a good look at him now that we were face to face. A familiar pressure built behind my eyelid as countless possibilities unfolded before collapsing into a single reality.

Unlike everyone else I'd examined, Wendell refused to reveal himself.

His existence resembled an endless darkness.

No matter how deeply Ophanim searched, it failed to penetrate whatever concealed him. Instead, I could only perceive an impossibly thin membrane surrounding his body, like transparent glass wrapped around his entire existence.

My left eye throbbed as a sharp pain shot through my skull.

The information I managed to extract was almost laughably small.

Name: Wendell.

Race: NPC.

Level: ???

That was it. Nothing more. Even obtaining those few words felt like forcing Ophanim against something it had no business trying to observe.

"I see," muttered Wendell in contemplation. "A fellow Supreme Being. If that is truly the case, then I find it difficult to believe there can be any goodwill between us."

The temperature in the room plummeted. An indescribable pressure descended upon the palace, thickening the air until every breath felt like inhaling molten lead. My instincts screamed louder than they had in a very long time. The oppressive aura reminded me of Supreme Heart, yet this felt even heavier and more absolute.

Perhaps I was judging unfairly. After all, this wasn’t my true body, merely a clone. Even so, every instinct I possessed screamed the same urgent warning:

'Run.'

Without hesitation, I lowered my stance and brought the boar tusk spear into my hands. I wasn’t preparing to attack. I had promised Cheng Bao I wouldn’t fight his lord, and a promise was a promise. That didn’t mean I intended to stand still and be erased from existence. If things truly went south, I would run. There was no shame in escaping someone who could probably squash me with a mere thought.

"I..." Wendell slowly rose from his throne, his voice echoing like an immutable law. "...am the Supreme Death."

His abyss-like eyes settled upon mine.

"If you wish to speak with me, then introduce yourself properly as someone who once shared the same home." A faint pause followed. "The least I can do... is remember your name."

Before I could answer, Cheng Bao suddenly stepped between us and dropped to one knee.

"My lord!" His voice rang throughout the hall. "I beg you, please calm your anger. Lord Da Wei has shown no hostility since arriving here. He truly only wishes to speak with you."

I scratched my cheek and answered in the Hollowed World's common language, trying to keep my tone light.

"He’s right." I let out a helpless sigh. "I really did come looking for you. Even before entering the Tower, I’d been searching everywhere for traces of the Supreme Death. I wanted to meet you. I wanted answers."

I shrugged, my smile turning bitter.

"Unfortunately, where I came from... you were already dead. I never had the chance. So talking to you was impossible."

The pressure didn’t diminish. If anything, it intensified.

The palace itself groaned beneath the crushing weight of his aura. Silent cracks spiderwebbed across sections of the floor before ancient formations immediately repaired the damage. Every hidden guard in the palace remained perfectly still, unwilling to risk even the slightest movement.

I thought, awestruck. This was the man history claimed would eventually become the strongest among the Six Supremes. The spiritual pressure continued to climb higher, heavier, and more suffocating with every passing second.

Then, a ladle flew from nowhere

Thunk!

A wooden ladle struck the back of Wendell’s head with a sharp crack. The terrifying pressure vanished instantly, as if it had never existed.

“What do you think you’re doing, you idiot?!”

Another thunk landed squarely on his shoulder as the flying ladle persistently hit him.

A beautiful woman stormed into the throne room with astonishing momentum. Long, silky dark hair flowed behind her like a banner, and she wore elegant robes stained with a faint dusting of flour near one sleeve, as though she had rushed straight from the kitchen without changing. Her refined features should have painted an elegant, almost ethereal picture.

Instead, her eyes blazed with pure murderous irritation.

She kicked Wendell squarely in the shin as she grabbed the ladle and hit him a second time.

“Ow!”

The Supreme Death recoiled instantly.

“Stop throwing your spiritual pressure around like a madman!” she snapped, waving the ladle threateningly. “I was cooking! Do you have any idea what happens when soup boils over because someone decides to threaten the entire palace?!”

Wendell instinctively raised both hands to shield his head.

“H-Honey...”

Thunk!

“Please stop hitting me.”

Thunk!

“It isn’t becoming of such a graceful lady.”

Thunk!

“Could you please show a little restraint?”

Another strike landed.

“Your ladle actually hurts!”

He curled into himself pitifully. “This is completely unreasonable...”

She ignored every complaint.

“Unreasonable?” She pointed the ladle accusingly at his face. “I spent three hours preparing today’s meal! You scared every servant in the palace half to death! My broth nearly burned! And somehow I’m the unreasonable one?!”

The mighty Supreme Death visibly shrank before her.

“…When you put it that way…”

“Oh, don’t you dare!”

I watched the absurd domestic dispute unfold, completely at a loss for how to process what I was seeing. The legendary Supreme Death, rumored to be the future strongest among the Six Supremes, was currently being beaten into submission by kitchen utensils.

I cleared my throat awkwardly.

“Um…”

Both of them turned toward me.

I hesitated for a moment, then asked, “…Meng Po?”

The woman blinked. Her beautiful face twisted into an ugly frown.

“What the fuck?” She stared at me as though I had just crawled out of a grave. “What are you doing here, Da Wei?”