Immortal Paladin 238 Dun… Dun… Dun

238 Dun… Dun… Dun…

Wen Yuhan drank the ng Po soup in one heavy gulp, letting the entire thing rush down her throat like bitter resolve. I watched the bowl tilt and the liquid vanish, her lips barely twitching despite what should’ve been a scalding flood of mory-splitting brew.

“So?” I asked, my tone light but my eyes sharp. “How is it?”

At first, she didn’t answer. Her gaze grew hollow, like a painting with the colors washed out. I snapped my fingers in front of her face, testing her awareness. Still nothing. I leaned back in my stool and crossed my arms, tapping my fingers against the table with growing impatience. This was Wen Yuhan, an ancient soul and cunning survivor. Surely, she wouldn’t fall prey to this bowl of tea without resistance. I myself had tricked it once, by anchoring my most precious mories with threads of destiny. If I could do it, soone like her could have done the sa with her Destiny Seeking Eyes.

She blinked slowly. Then again. And finally, the light of thought returned to her eyes. She looked at , steady and serene, and said, “It was a good tea.”

That answer, simple as it was, carried weight. Her expression no longer bore that undercurrent of predation I had co to expect. There was a lightness in her features, like soone who had shed a thousand lifetis' worth of chains. My instincts urged to remain guarded, but the sincerity radiating from her soul, confird by a sweep of my Divine Sense, told this wasn’t a trick.

“Thank you,” she whispered, then reached across the table and cupped my cheeks with both hands.

The others behind stirred. I raised my hand to stop them. Wen Yuhan leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on my forehead.

“I rember being happy,” she murmured. “And a bit more. Ah. But I don't rember anymore. The sad mories, too, but I feel content. It was indeed a good tea. Still, knowing that I had been happy was enough. I had been happy, yes. That's what really mattered, isn't it? Really, thank you.”

There it was. Despite the mory-forgetting tea, so fragnt of her remained. A sliver of joy so dense with fate, even the river of oblivion couldn’t wash it away. That could only an one thing: the location, the identity, and the context of that mory had dissolved with it. Destiny had protected it… and erased the rest. At least, the 'emotion' of the mory remained, and that had been the important thing for Wen Yuhan.

“A destiny,” she said, her voice suddenly distant, “is a life lived.”

Light enveloped her before I could reply. Purple and gold motes shimred from her skin, her form unraveling like incense smoke in the wind. I opened my mouth to stop her… maybe for a question, maybe just to complain how one-sided that contract was… but she was already dissolving. Not dying in the traditional sense, but letting her presence bleed back into the world, as if returning borrowed ti.

“Let this be the seal of our contract,” she said, fading.

And then, as the last of her scattered, her voice echoed in my mind. “Sever the destiny that binds the mortals to their potential, Da Wei…”

My lips tightened. That was vague and dramatic. Just like her.

And then the world tilted again.

The golden motes she had beco didn’t just fade. Instead, they blood. They spun slowly in place like fireflies caught in an unseen current, their dance coalescing around , thickening the air with an aching softness. The forest around us dissolved. The scent of pine and scorched wood from the wrecked gatron vanished, replaced by incense smoke and old stone.

I stood now before a forgotten temple, half-swallowed by vines and silence. Weathered steps climbed up to a broad, shaded landing, where the dying sun bathed everything in amber hues. There, on the steps, sat a version of Wen Yuhan far older than the one I knew… Her hair was streaked with silver, her face lined not with stress but with the calm that only ca from a life settled. One of her hands rested on her knee, while the other gently patted the back of a young girl leaning against her side, head on her lap. Another disciple, a boy with his hair in a loose topknot, sat beside them with a scroll in hand, reading aloud with exaggerated inflections that made the girl giggle.

They looked content. No sches. No blood debts. No plans to kill or possess, or manipulate. Just an old master with her students at the end of a quiet day, watching the sun set on a world that didn’t need saving.

The longer I stood there, the more I understood. This wasn’t just a mory. Instead, this was the part of her that refused to be forgotten, no matter what price she paid. It didn’t speak of power or glory, of revenge or divine defiance. It spoke of sothing simpler… peace. Connection. A fleeting, quiet happiness carved out from all the chaos.

I reached out, trying to touch the air around them, but my hand passed through like smoke. The mirage flickered, blurred, and then unraveled, vanishing like a dream one forgets upon waking.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. Whatever else Wen Yuhan had been: a monster, a genius, a nuisance… This had been real to her. And if destiny truly was the weight of a life lived, then this was her gravestone.

Then, without warning, sothing ruptured in my consciousness. A surge of vision pushed through . The world dissolved, and in its place…

An old man sat beside a tranquil lake, holding a fishing rod in one hand and a thermos in the other. He wore checkered shorts, plastic slippers, and a faded sleeveless shirt with a cartoon cat flexing its arms. A breeze stirred his graying hair as he turned slowly toward .

“Who you?” he asked, his voice casual but impossibly deep, as if it resonated through more than just air. “This is my spot, fuck off…”

I stuttered, trying to make sense of the surreal surroundings. “Lost Supre?”

The old man cast a sidelong glance without turning his head. “No one’s called that in a long ti…”

Without another word, I walked over and shoved him into the lake.

A trendous splash, followed by wild flailing, greeted . The old man thrashed and cursed as his slippers floated off, arms paddling clumsily through the water. For a mont, I worried I might’ve actually drowned a cosmic entity. Then he found his footing and staggered up to the shallows, sopping wet, wheezing like a winded dog.

“What the hell was that for!?” he barked between gulps of breath.

I gave a nonchalant shrug. “This place is strange. What if you were a heart demon or sothing? I’ve developed a strong prejudice toward anything with ‘heart’ in the na. Extra hate. Paranoia levels maxed out.”

Frankly, I just wanted to push the old man. I hate him. Kind of.

The old man muttered under his breath, wringing out his shirt. “Who even are you?”

“It’s ! David!” I said, pointing at myself with exaggerated indignation. “You rember Lost Legends Online, right? You practically made … take responsibility, old man. I’ll even call you daddy.”

“Ugh. Nah.” He squinted at like I was a rotting cabbage. “Too ugly. Can’t be mine.”

That shut up. “…Okay, damn.”

He didn’t laugh. Just plopped back down by the lakeside and stared at the water like my whole existence hadn’t just been invalidated. Then, more quietly, he muttered, “So who are you, really? And where’s the lass? She’s the only one who cos here anymore. Every ti she leaves, she forgets. Like clockwork. But I got used to her presence, I guess…”

I hesitated, then sat beside him. “She’s dead.”

The old man didn’t react right away. His eyes remained fixed on the ripples, but I saw the faintest twitch in his brow. “That’s sad,” he finally said. “But I guess she made her choice.”

“What choice?”

“To give up.”

His voice was dry as driftwood, like the words had long since lost their aning for him but still carried weight.

“I don’t get it,” I said. “What did she give up?”

He turned to look at properly for the first ti. “Everything. Her power. Her chance at redemption. Everything she clung to. Gone.”

“But… there’s reincarnation, isn’t there? The cycle. A second chance—”

“The Wheel is broken,” he cut in coldly. “The Afterlife’s gone. The Inevitable is coming. No one knows when, only that it will. And frankly, it’s better this way. At least she chose to disappear before the end caught her.”

That landed hard. My mouth felt dry. “But she had disciples she cared about…”

He frowned. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to. I had lived through fragnts of her mories, as jumbled and scattered as they were. I had seen those quiet afternoons in a temple. I had felt the gentleness she reserved only for her students. And despite everything, she had cherished them. That part, at least, had always been real.

I stared into the lake’s surface. “Man… this sucks.”

“Life sucks,” the old man replied flatly. “Everything sucks. The Heavenly Dao sucks. Better to be dead than alive sotis.”

“That’s pretty damn pessimistic.”

He chuckled with no warmth behind it. “Humans are pessimists. That’s our default. No matter how high Wen Yuhan climbed, she was still human at the core.”

What's up with this old man? What did he know about humanity? I was honestly offended. Pessimists? Really? I digressed. Humans could be optimists, too. It was what you'd call hopeful. As for pessimists? They were what you would call a cynic. I swallowed hard. “I might be projecting here, but… I really hated her guts. She’s the worst.”

The old man tilted his head. “You’re biased. I can feel it in your heart.”

“Please don’t read my heart.”

That shut him up for a mont. I leaned back, arms resting behind . The truth stung worse than I expected. At first, when I compared her to Nongmin, it was easy to paint him as the better man. He was noble, loyal, and wore blindfolds like a proper tragic hero. But the more I thought about it… the less clean-cut it beca.

Hei Mao died because of Nongmin. I was dragged to the Summit because of him. The shitstorm that followed nearly broke in half. Yes, he saved my soul, probably. But still…

As for Wen Yuhan? She tried to steal my body, yes. She tried to kill my father. My mother. My brother-in-law. She baited here and tried to arm-twist into killing the Heavenly Demon. But…

I exhaled.

“…She’s definitely not the worst,” I muttered, more to myself than anyone. “And I’m definitely being biased. But I still think, I don’t like her…”

The old man eyed with a bemused expression, his voice gravelly yet light. “Are you sure you’re not just being biased?”

I gave a half-shrug. “A bit…”

He chuckled as if that answer satisfied him. “So you don’t actually hate her for no reason. I quite liked her, personally.”

I scoffed, rubbing the back of my neck. “She tried to steal my body. And that’s just the start.”

“Beyond that?”

I sighed. “You really going to make say it?”

“Say it,” he repeated flatly.

“I don’t want to,” I muttered, crossing my arms like a sulking child.

“You resent this place,” he continued. “You wonder why they call it the False Earth. Why does it gnaw at you? Why does it never sit right, no matter how familiar it feels?”

I narrowed my eyes. “I told you not to read my heart.”

“I’m not,” he replied, flicking a hand. “I’m just saying shit.”

And just like that, a cigarette appeared between his lips, already lit. Wisps of smoke curled lazily toward the sky. I blinked. “Can I have one?”

“Use your own quintessence,” he said without glancing my way.

“But they’re expensive,” I complained.

He rolled his eyes and conjured one for anyway. I lit the end with a half-hearted Searing Smite and took a drag. The flavor was earthy, bitter, and strangely nostalgic. I wasn’t sure if it was the smoke or the mont hitting harder.

“The power of creation at your fingertips,” the old man murmured. “Amazing, isn’t it?”

I exhaled a thin stream of smoke. “So why does this place bother ?”

He gave a deadpan stare. “How the hell should I know? You should be the one asking that to yourself!”

“You started it!”

With an exaggerated sigh, he waved his hand, and the world changed.

The transformation was seamless. The trees around the lake thinned with the passage of imagined centuries. The water receded, then dried into a cracked basin. Rocks wore down into flat plains. Then, like sprouting mushrooms, steel and glass towers rose on the far horizon. elegant, unnatural, and unmistakably modern.

I staggered as pain stabbed through my skull. mories I had long since buried or had forcibly erased rose in waves. Earth. The twenty-first century. Neon lights. Concrete. Honking cars. Smog. Coffee from plastic lids.

“Son of a bitch,” I muttered. “I hate you.”

“You’re welco,” the old man said, puffing on his cigarette.

“Now I’ll have to find ng Po and drink another bowl of her soup. If the Supre Beings sniff out Earth’s mory lingering in my soul, they might throw a system apocalypse just for fun.”

The old man chuckled. “System apoc-what? What even is that supposed to an? Never mind… Anyway, you t ng Po?”

I nodded. “Kind old lady. Let cultivate in her dinsion. Ti-frozen courtyard and all that.”

His brows rose. “She controls ti now? Huh. That’s new…”

“You know her?”

“We used to party together,” he said. “Hit so frogs.”

I stared at him. “What the hell does that an?”

He didn’t clarify. Just smiled as he exhaled another long drag.

The silence returned, comfortable, almost philosophical.

Then he added, “You keep trying to annihilate your mories of Earth, but it won’t work. There’s a reason Earth’s beco a mythical place. Even if you forget it, it won’t forget you.”

I looked back toward the skyline. The buildings shimred in the distance like a mirage… a mory disguised as a possibility. “Did that happen because I introduced concrete?”

The old man snorted. “That’ll always happen. Concrete or not. This is a dream. What I dream becos real in the False Earth. You asked why this place bothers you? Maybe it’s because it reminds you of ho. The mortality. The helplessness. The ache of being human. That’s what I think. But what do you think?”

I let the silence stretch, watching the city flicker like a ghost at the edge of ti.

Finally, I said, “I think we’ve been talking too long. Let’s get to the point.”

The old man grinned. “This is the point. We talk.”

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees as I narrowed my eyes. “Then talk.”

The old man tilted his head. “Ask nicely.”

I bit my cheek, exhaled through my nose, and asked with as much restraint as I could muster, “You don’t really rember ?”

He shrugged, unconcerned. “No.”

I supposed that was fair. The version of him I t wasn’t really him, not fully. It had been a fragnt, a shard of mory tucked inside Joan D’Arc’s soul in Lost Legends Online. A mory of a mory. I clarified, “You left a piece of yourself inside Joan. That mory kind of saved from imminent demise.”

The old man blinked, then snapped his fingers as if catching a loose thread. “Ah, Joan… Lovely lady. Braver than most.” He paused. “And no, still don’t rember. Fragnt- probably had better hair, though.”

I sighed. Dead end. Fine. Ti to change direction.

I leaned back, letting the shifting sky overhead cool my temper. “Before she died, Wen Yuhan imposed so kind of contract on … sothing about severing the destiny that binds mortals to their potential. It was vague. And sinister. Raises about every red flag I’ve got. What the hell was that about?”

He stopped mid-drag and stared at . “That’s not a small question. You sure you want the answer?”

I nodded. “Very.”

“All binding vows operate on equivalent exchange. Always. She offered sothing in return.” He gestured lazily at the space between us. “Seems to , your reward… was this eting.”

I blinked. “What?”

He looked utterly unbothered. “This. Right here. Talking to . That’s your paynt.”

My mouth opened, then shut. “This was her parting gift? Why would she think this was worth it?”

He gave a deadpan stare. “That’s the sad part, isn’t it?”

I rubbed my temples. “So what happens if I don’t do it? If I ignore the contract?”

The old man spread his arms. “The 'destiny' imbued in the contract cos for you anyway, regardless. A vow like that doesn’t wait for you to care. It unfolds. You’ve been sucker punched, David.”

And now, finally, I hated her for real.

It wasn’t the scheming or the threats. It was this… a final twist, planted after death, dragging into a taphysical war of ideals I never signed up for. I could imagine her smug smile as she severed herself from existence, knowing full well I’d stumble into this nonsense like a blind dog with a sword in its mouth.

I muttered, “This was her final move. She knew it was checkmate. Especially with Gu Jie and Alice backing …”

The old man didn’t disagree. He just nodded slowly.

I tried again. “Why are you being so cooperative?”

His reply was instant. “Because I can.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Be honest.”

“I am being honest.”

Frustrated, I shifted again, this ti leaning forward, my tone sharpening. “Why do they call you the Lost Supre? Where exactly are you? What the hell is this place? What happened to you? Why did you abandon Lost Legends Online? That’s insanely irresponsible for a ga dev.”

He blinked at . Then smiled. “So many questions… Do you really want to know the answers?”

“Yes,” I said, more desperate than I intended. “I want to know.”

The old man opened his mouth.

But no sound ca out.

A thin wind swept across the lakeside, rustling the surface of the water like paper. I frowned. “What did you say?”

His lips moved, but again… no voice.

Then he smiled again, softer this ti. “While I’d like to say we have all the ti in the world to talk, that just isn’t the case… Sorry, David.”

“Why?”

He turned his head, eyes gleaming like twilight against a dying fire. “I’ve been buying ti.”

Before I could respond, before I could even move, sothing shifted beside .

Where the old man had sat now rested a younger man, bald and serene, his crimson and saffron kasaya wrapped loosely around his lean fra. He had a broom resting across his lap, fingers curled gently around its wooden shaft. His eyes were sharp, not cruel, but infinitely knowing.

The old man was gone.

The youth spoke, voice deep and resonant like a bell striking empty halls. “The Ascension Gas are nearing their end, David. My pieces are in place. The board is set.”

I tried to respond, but the lake, the grass, the dream… everything began to lt like candlewax beneath .

The last thing I heard was his voice, calm and deliberate.

“I’ll be waiting on the Sealed Island.”