Immortal Paladin-Chapter 102 Who are you?

102 Who are you?

Hei Mao’s breath hitched as time seemed to rewind within his mind, forcing him to relive the last few seconds with dreadful clarity. The battle began within the Umbral Scripture Hall. Hei Mao could barely process the chaos as he and the others fought with everything they had. Scrolls burned, shelves toppled, ink spilled onto the stone floor, yet none of it mattered.

Their struggle carried them outside.

The Puppet Armor was relentless. An unfeeling executioner, cutting through their efforts as if their resistance were meaningless.

Ren Xun had managed to slow it down with a series of formation traps and a trace of internal formation he left behind. For a moment, just a fleeting, fragile moment, hope flickered.

Then the Puppet Armor caught up.

Hei Mao saw it happen.

Brother Ren Xun, kneeling in the dirt, desperately working to repair the island’s killing array. His hands blurred, forming seals, each motion filled with the same fury and determination that he often tried to hide. But he never finished.

Even Ren Xun had his limits.

The Puppet Armor made quick work of him.

A clean, efficient beheading.

The world spun. Blood splattered across the stones, staining the formation scripts he had worked so hard to repair.

Hei Mao felt his breath catch, unable to draw more arrows.

His body froze.

Ren Xun was gone.

And then...

Big Sister Gu Jie was the second to fall. She fought with everything she had. Every technique, every trick, every ounce of her desperation. But it wasn’t enough. She, too, was beheaded.

Hei Mao barely registered his own screams.

It was too fast. Too sudden.

And then...

The Puppet Armor turned to him. It didn’t hesitate. A strange power emanated from it, something that made Hei Mao’s very soul tremble. It reached for him, as if intending to consume him whole.

Hei Mao was going to die.

And then...

Ren Jingyi lost it.

The memory stopped there.

Hei Mao’s eyes snapped open. He gasped, body jerking as reality crashed back into him.

A girl was staring down at him, her face twisted in anguish.

Tears streaked down her cheeks, her lips trembling.

“Mao!”

Her voice broke.

His breath caught.

It was Ren Jingyi.

But not the little goldfish he had always known.

Her body was that of a human girl, her appearance no longer resembling a fish but someone around his age. They were hidden inside a small shed. The air was thick with the stench of blood and decay.

Hei Mao’s mind raced. What happened? He tried to push himself up, but Ren Jingyi suddenly clung to him.

Her body shook violently.

She sobbed.

“I did what Big Sister told me to do…” she whispered, voice raw. “I forced myself to break through. I… I became human. But when I finished...” Her words choked off. Her fingers clawed into his robes. “It was already too late.”

Hei Mao’s breath hitched. He understood what she meant.

Ren Jingyi had reached the Fifth Realm, Soul Recognition.

She had achieved her Human Transformation.

And yet, despite that power, despite the impossible feat of breaking through in the heat of battle... She had still lost everything.

Hei Mao swallowed, his throat dry. He raised a trembling hand and rested it on her head.

She flinched, then stilled.

He didn’t know what to say. But he knew one thing. It was his responsibility to calm her down.

The shed was barely holding together, its wooden walls warped and cracked, the scent of rot heavy in the air. Hei Mao's breath came in quiet, controlled exhales as he held onto Ren Jingyi’s trembling hand. The girl had stopped crying, but her red, puffy eyes and the occasional sniffle gave away the turmoil within.

Outside, the low groans of undead echoed through the night. Their heavy, shuffling footsteps scraped against the ground as they dragged their half-decayed bodies across the ruined battlefield. The once-proud stronghold of the Shadow Clan was now a graveyard—one that reeked of death, miasma, and lingering resentment.

Hei Mao knew he had to keep Ren Jingyi calm.

‘What better way than to make her focus on something else?’ he thought.

With a hushed voice, he whispered, "Where’s my bow?"

Ren Jingyi blinked, wiping the back of her sleeve across her nose before standing up slightly. From within her robe was an oversized garment that nearly swallowed her small frame. Ren Jingyi carefully pulled out the Eye of the Sun. The fabric draped over her slender shoulders, the sleeves far too long for her arms, forcing her to push them back as she moved. It was black, embroidered with intricate red serpents that coiled and slithered along the silk, their gleaming scales almost alive under the dim light.

It was unmistakably Gu Jie’s, or at least, one of her robes. A robe that once belonged to someone strong, confident, and unshakable. But now, wrapped around Ren Jingyi’s tiny body, it looked more like a child trying to fit into an adult’s world: too big, too heavy, a lingering reminder of someone who was no longer there to wear it.

Hei Mao swallowed hard, his fingers briefly tightening into fists. He didn’t have the luxury of grief right now. Not when death prowled just outside the door.

“Thanks,” said Hei Mao as he secured the bow in his hand.

The Eye of the Sun’s polished surface gleamed faintly in the dim light. It was the magical bow lent to him by Senior Dai Fu. The sight of it made Hei Mao feel something, perhaps hope, perhaps desperation, but at least he knew he wasn’t entirely defenseless.

Ren Jingyi sniffled, holding out the bow. "What now?" she whispered, her voice still thick with emotion.

Hei Mao didn’t answer right away. Instead, he pulled her back into the haystack piled against the shed’s wall. The dried stalks rustled softly around them as they crouched low.

"Quiet," he whispered, voice barely audible.

Ren Jingyi’s lip quivered, but she obeyed.

The sounds outside grew louder. The groaning of the undead was joined by something worse: soft and deliberate footsteps. Not the dragging steps of corpses, but those of people who still had reason, intelligence, and purpose. Hei Mao tensed as the wooden door creaked. A shudder ran through the shed as something heavy pressed against it.

And then... BANG.

The door was forced open.

Dust scattered in the air as two figures entered. They were clad in dark robes, faces obscured by black masks inscribed with red scripture. Unlike the mindless undead, their presence exuded a cold, calculating menace.

Behind them, several rotting corpses lurched into the shed, their glowing eyes scanning the dim interior. Hei Mao pressed himself further into the hay, feeling Ren Jingyi’s tiny fingers clutching at his sleeve.

He knew they had to act fast.

With careful movements, he reached into his robe, fingers brushing against a precious gift from Big Sister Gu Jie, the Magic Scroll of Invisibility.

Slowly, he unfurled it. The parchment was fragile, the edges slightly frayed from repeated handling, but the golden characters inscribed upon it still pulsed with hidden power. He turned to Ren Jingyi and, in a whisper barely louder than a breath, said:

"Touch the edge of the parchment."

Ren Jingyi hesitated for only a second before doing as he instructed.

Hei Mao then tore the paper in half.

A surge of energy washed over them, the spell activating instantly. Their bodies shimmered, outlines fading like mist under the morning sun. Within moments, they were gone.

But the masked cultivators weren’t fooled so easily.

One of them stepped further inside, his boots grinding against the wooden floor. His voice was hoarse, but filled with eerie amusement.

"Smell that?" he asked his companion.

The second cultivator nodded. "Two living rats. Close by."

Hei Mao held his breath.

The undead shuffled in, their soulless eyes scanning the room, sniffing at the air with unnatural hunger. Hei Mao gripped the Eye of the Sun tightly, his heartbeat hammering in his chest.

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They had to get out.

But could they?

The tension in the shed was suffocating. Hei Mao held his breath, his body rigid as stone, his small hands clutching at Ren Jingyi’s sleeve as if afraid she would vanish if he let go. The cultivators in black masks stalked through the small space, their eyes scanning for any trace of life.

Then, suddenly, a rat squeaked.

One of the black-masked cultivators cursed under his breath. “Filthy vermin,” he muttered before flicking his fingers. A small pulse of dark energy shot forward, and the rat screeched once before falling still, its body twitching before it lay lifeless.

The other cultivator, however, wasn’t so easily distracted. He narrowed his eyes and muttered, “I swear someone was here.”

The two argued in hushed voices, the first one insisting it was nothing but pests, while the second refused to believe it.

Hei Mao didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.

Ren Jingyi trembled beside him, her fingers clenching the oversized robe.

After what felt like an eternity, the second cultivator finally let out a frustrated huff. “Fine. If you’re so sure, report it to the commander. I’m not wasting my time chasing ghosts.”

With that, they turned and left.

Hei Mao waited. One second. Two.

Then, he let go of Ren Jingyi. The magic crumbled, its effect dissipating as their invisibility faded.

Ren Jingyi sniffled, wiping her tears away with her oversized sleeve. “That was too close,” she whispered.

Hei Mao took a deep breath. “We don’t have time to be scared. I have a plan. We’re getting Big Sister Gu Jie’s and Brother Ren Xun’s bodies back.”

Ren Jingyi’s eyes widened. Then, slowly, they began to glow with excitement. “If we bring them back, His Eminence can resurrect them!”

But just as quickly, the light in her eyes dimmed, replaced with uncertainty. Her small fingers clutched at the robe. “But… does His Eminence still care about us? Did he abandon us?”

Hei Mao shook his head without hesitation. “Senior Dai Fu is still out there fighting. Big Bro Da Wei would never leave us.” His voice wavered only slightly, but he forced himself to believe it. He had to.

Ren Jingyi’s lips quivered before she nodded, the fire in her eyes reigniting. “I kind of miss Lu Gao too.”

Hei Mao smiled faintly. “Me too. But first, we need to stop Shenyuan.”

Ren Jingyi blinked. “Who?”

Hei Mao’s expression darkened. “The guy controlling the Puppet Armor.”

Ren Jingyi frowned. “Wait, how do you know his name?”

Hei Mao hesitated, his mind still a mess of jumbled memories. But as he dug through the haze, the fragments pieced together, forming a picture he didn’t want to see.

His breath hitched. His hands clenched.

The night his family was slaughtered. The masked figures. The whispers. The shadow that loomed over him, consuming everything.

And then... the face of the man who stole his body.

Hei Mao shuddered.

His voice was hoarse as he answered. “…Because it was him. He was the one. The one who killed my family. The one who took my body.”

“Shenyuan.”

Hei Mao took a deep breath and steadied himself. The weight of what he had just remembered threatened to crush him, but he couldn’t afford to break down. Not now. Not when they still had a chance to set things right.

He turned to Ren Jingyi. In the dim light, her small face was still streaked with tears, but there was a fierce determination in her golden eyes.

“This is reckless,” he murmured, “but we don’t have a choice. If we’re doing this, you have to understand the risk. We could die.”

Ren Jingyi lifted her chin, her expression hardening. “I don’t care. I’ll do everything I can.”

Hei Mao searched her face for doubt, for hesitation. He found none.

“…Alright.”

Together, they moved through the ruined landscape of the island, keeping low, keeping silent. The scent of death and rot hung heavy in the air, thick enough that Hei Mao had to breathe through his mouth. Undead roamed in the distance, hunting for any remaining survivors.

They didn’t have much time.

They found the bodies easily enough. Gu Jie and Ren Xun. Motionless, lifeless, and missing their heads.

Hei Mao clenched his jaw. This wasn’t enough. If they wanted even the slimmest chance of resurrecting them with Da Wei’s power, they needed their heads.

Closing his eyes, Hei Mao traced the lingering energy in the air. A dark, curling presence clung to the battlefield, a shadowy trail leading away from the bodies. Shenyuan’s energy.

Something shifted in his vision.

A sharp gasp came from Ren Jingyi. “Hei Mao! Your eyes… they’re completely black!”

Hei Mao blinked. The world was sharper, the darkness richer, layered with depth and movement.

Is this… like Elder Yuan’s Abyss Sight?

He didn’t understand it. But he would use it.

“I can see where he took them.” He turned to Ren Jingyi, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Listen to me. I’ll distract Shenyuan. When I do, you get the heads and get out. No matter what.”

Ren Jingyi’s hands clenched at her sides. “But...”

“No matter what.” Hei Mao’s voice was firm.

Ren Jingyi hesitated, then slowly nodded.

They moved.

Guided by the trail of shadowy energy, they crept forward. The ruined remains of the Shadow Clan’s stronghold loomed around them, a broken skeleton of what had once been a sanctuary.

Then, they saw him.

Shenyuan sat on a throne of bones.

The structure was hastily assembled from the remains of dead Shadow Clan cultivators. It was crude, but powerful, radiating a miasma of death and resentment.

But that wasn’t the worst part.

At the foot of the throne, forced onto his knees...

...was Dai Fu.

Hei Mao couldn’t hear their conversation, but he didn’t need to. The sight of Dai Fu, kneeling before Shenyuan, was enough.

They needed to save him, too.

Ren Jingyi, still breathing heavily from their previous escape, gave a firm nod. “We’ll have better chances if we do.”

Hei Mao took a slow breath. “Then listen to me. When you get them, don’t look back. Run. Stick close to Senior Dai Fu.”

Ren Jingyi’s golden eyes flickered with hesitation. “…What about you?”

Hei Mao forced a confident smirk. “I’ll be right behind you.”

He reached for the Eye of the Sun and held it out to her.

Ren Jingyi’s hands clenched. “But, this was lent to you! And I’m already carrying Big Sister Gu Jie’s Accursed Serpent...”

“It’s fine,” Hei Mao insisted. “Just take it.”

She still looked reluctant.

To reassure her, Hei Mao took off his Storage Ring and handed it over as well. “Here. Keep this too. Everything inside will be more useful to you than to me.”

Ren Jingyi stared at him. Something in her small face twisted, but before she could argue, Hei Mao cut her off.

“When I say go,”

She was still mid-word saying ‘okay’, when...

“GO!”

Hei Mao bolted.

It happened in an instant.

Shenyuan gestured, and from the sack beside him, the severed heads floated.

Ren Jingyi’s breath hitched.

Dai Fu laughing and mocking Shenyuan only served as more of a distraction.

Ren Jingyi moved.

The Accursed Serpent whip lashed out, coiling around the fallen heads in a series of hoops. With a sharp flick, she reeled them in, stuffing them into her Storage Ring.

That was when Shenyuan moved.

In a single flicker, he was at Ren Jingyi’s flank.

But Hei Mao saw it.

And so did Dai Fu.

For Dai Fu, it was because he was using Da Wei’s body, empowered by powerful passive skills, gear, and stats.

For Hei Mao, it was because of his connection to Shenyuan and his recently unlocked Abyss Sight.

Dai Fu moved first. Zealot’s Stride. Flash Step. In a single breath, he scooped Ren Jingyi by the waist, his blade flashing as he cut down two interfering cultivators. Then, he ran.

Hei Mao moved next. He lunged at Shenyuan from behind, his small frame barely making a sound. His hand shot forward, and he dug his arm into him.

Ren Jingyi screamed. “HEI MAO!” She struggled in Dai Fu’s grip, reaching toward him. “It’s time! Let’s go! Come with us!”

Hei Mao looked back at her.

A small, sad smile touched his lips.

“…I’m sorry.”

“MAAAAO~!” cried Ren Jingyi.

“I will distract him!” Hei Mao shouted, his voice barely audible over the chaos.

His qi flared, small yet unwavering, as he glared at Shenyuan.

“Give me my body back!”

Hei Mao thrust his hands forward, grasping at Shenyuan’s robes, and they sank in. No, not just the robes. His hands sank into Shenyuan’s body itself. His very flesh. And the soul. And everything.

"Nice try," Shenyuan rolled his eyes and scoffed. “But you see... You should have run, boy.”

A vice-like grip clamped around Hei Mao’s skull.

Pain exploded through him.

Hei Mao gritted his teeth. He refused to let go.

A vague impression flickered in his mind, a technique he had glimpsed in the depths of his dreams, something half-formed yet instinctively understood.

“Shadow Bind!”

Dark tendrils burst from Hei Mao’s arms, latching onto Shenyuan.

For the first time, Shenyuan paused.

But before he could react, a voice cut through the air.

“Let go of him," said Dai Fu. "And I’ll give you what you want.”

Hei Mao’s eyes widened. “Run!” Hei Mao yelled. “I can’t hold him for long!”

But Dai Fu, Dave, refused to see it his way. Instead, Dai Fu pulled out a Magic Scroll of Greater Teleportation. Hei Mao barely had time to register it before Dai Fu grabbed Ren Jingyi’s wrist and forced her to rip the parchment.

The magic activated instantly.

Ren Jingyi vanished with tears in her eyes.

Dai Fu moved again. Another Magic Scroll. This time, he shoved it into Hei Mao’s limp hand. “GO!” he bellowed as he swung his sword at him. But Shenyuan just laughed. It was a slow, delighted chuckle. "Shenyuan! FIGHT ME!"

Finally, Shenyuan had regained control from the Shadow Bind. He tilted his head, his fingers tightening on Hei Mao’s scalp. “You want your body back?” His voice was mocking. “You want it so badly?”

Hei Mao’s mind reeled. A whisper of something called to him. He reached deeper, searching for Shenyuan’s essence. And what he found was... Darkness. It swallowed him whole.

Everything happened too fast.

The next second, it was already finished.

Hei Mao stared at Dai Fu’s beheaded body. Dai Fu, in the end, had let his guard down, allowing himself to be beheaded so easily in the decisive moment. Of course, Dai Fu would lose, especially since he was already on the brink of death anyway.

The helm rolled across the bloodied ground, coming to a stop with its faceplate now open, revealing a smile... It was unmistakably a smile. That damned smile. Joyful. Radiant. Almost… satisfied. Weird.

No.

“Who am I again?”

Not Hei Mao.

Ah, right. Shenyuan, that was his name, wasn’t it?

"Yes, my name is Shenyuan."

He almost forgot.

The sudden change in perspective was jarring.

The boy’s fate was powerful. That much was undeniable. A child of destiny. It was expected.

After all, Hei Mao was the original owner of this body. This vessel was born for greatness. That must be why, despite the chasm of their cultivation, the kid almost succeeded. Shenyuan had inhabited many bodies in his long life. Some warriors. Some scholars. Some kings.

But this one… this one had potential.

Hei Yuan’s bloodline… Shenyuan licked his lips.

It reminded him of the Heavenly Eye.

Ah, that one... a freak of nature. A true aberration.

Shenyuan laughed.

“Take off the armor.”

His lackeys moved at once.

Then...

Something ridiculous happened. The shadow of the dead foreigner expanded. First, it swallowed the shore. Then, the entire island. No. The entire lake. Shenyuan’s breath hitched. His Abyss Sight was reacting strangely.

A power that allowed its wearer to peer beyond the darkness, to learn the secrets of the abyss, to see the shadows of all life.

And then...

The dead man’s body jerked. A flicker of movement. An ordinary-looking ring, barely noticeable, began to glow. And in an instant, the head regenerated. Brain matter. Bone. Flesh. Dark hair. Whole again.

A cultivator lurched forward in panic, sword drawn...

Only to be backhanded.

His head flew. It was a clean and effortless strike.

"That was a Fifth Realm cultivator!" cried one of his subordinates.

Shenyuan casually remarked, "Now, isn't this interesting?"

The foreigner stretched. He cracked his neck, rolling his shoulders, utterly unbothered.

Shenyuan gritted his teeth. His mind screamed in disbelief. But he forced himself to smile.

“Impressive,” Shenyuan’s mocking smile widened as he studied the resurrected man before him. "To escape the Black Forest, the sacred treasure of my Immortal Ancestors refined over time from the body of a fallen Immortal... Truly impressive. That alone speaks of your skill."

His voice was rich with amusement, but beneath it, there was a thread of unease. He had seen many impossible things in his long existence, but this? This was unnatural. Shenyuan narrowed his eyes, studying the foreigner’s body.

The energy and the very essence within him... It was all… wrong.

No. Not wrong.

Changed.

His lips curled into a smirk.

"I never thought your True Soul would be able to return to your main body."

It was unnerving. A soul severed from its body should be lost. Even with techniques that allowed soul projection or possession, a practitioner would still face severe consequences or would have to pay a hefty cost.

And yet... Here he was.

Whole.

Intact.

No signs of soul damage, no lingering instability...

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Just pure, undeniable presence.

Shenyuan's eyes gleamed. “How’s your other disciple? Lu Gao, is it?” He tilted his head, lips stretching into something between curiosity and cruelty. "Did you kill him?" His tone was teasing, but his gaze was sharp. "To forcibly eject your soul and return to your main body? In order to do that, you would have to kill him, yes? It was certainly a strange technique."

There was no doubt about it.

That must have been what happened.

And yet... There were gaps in his understanding.

Shenyuan had stolen countless lives, claimed countless bodies.

He understood possession techniques intimately.

They were always rooted in dominion and subjugation of another’s spirit.

A battle of will. A conquest.

But this?

This was not how it normally worked.

Shenyuan’s fingers tightened over the armrest.

"For a possession technique, it was bizarre how you used the righteous principles."

He scoffed.

The very foundation of possession was parasitic, a forceful occupation, an invasion, a war between the possessor and the possessed.

But this?

This was orderly.

Refined.

It was as though the foreigner had… stepped aside, allowing the other soul to take over without resistance—and then returned, as if called back by divine right. Shenyuan frowned. His unease deepened. That was not how it worked.

“I truly thought I had eliminated one of my strongest rivals.”

Shenyuan tilted his head, eyes gleaming.

“Unfortunately,” He gestured grandly at the wreckage. “You are already too late. Your disciples are dead. The Shadow Clan has been decimated.”

The foreigner...

No.

The man turned to him.

Slowly.

His gaze was calm.

His voice was soft.

“Who are you?”