Immortal Paladin-377 Paperwork and the Weight of an Empire

Immortal Paladin-377 Paperwork and the Weight of an Empire

377
Paperwork and the Weight of an Empire
Among the Six Souls, I was the one stuck with this. Paperwork! Endless, mountainous, sanity-eroding paperwork! Without the True Self acting as the center that kept us aligned, each of us had drifted slightly toward our natures, pursuing impulses and duties on our own. A dangerous thing if we diverged too far, since conflicts with Da Wei’s existence might arise. Yet even with those scattered instincts, something fundamental had shifted. At our cores, we had begun identifying as ‘Da Wei’ rather than mere fragments of him. The True Self was no longer a distant progenitor; he was us, and we were him.
None of that helped with the stack of s in front of me.
“I hate my life,” I groaned as I slumped over my desk inside the Holy Emperor’s office atop Mt. Qingshi. “This is so boring…”
As the Human Path, I was cursed with the full spectrum of emotions from frustration, boredom, and stress. Humanity was defined by its feelings, and I was no exception.
I picked up the next . “New Willow’s barrier technology is improving. Good. Considering it’s isolated and serving as the capital of the Holy Ascension Empire, it needs the extra protection.” I sighed. “But honestly… what was the True Self thinking? Turning that place into the capital? Sure, it’s a holy ground, full of faith, but strategically… ugh.”
I dropped the paper, grabbed the next one, and continued mumbling to myself.
“At least Northshire fell without much resistance. Connecting it to the Northern Stronghold stabilizes our supply routes. Flying ships are safe, barriers are stable, so sustainability shouldn’t crash and burn yet…”
Half a year had passed since I returned to the Empire and reclaimed the body assigned to the Human Path. With the True Self gone and Asura rampaging on his personal crusade, I had been forced into the role of Holy Emperor again. Honestly, the situation was awful.
Before I left the Martial Alliance, I’d helped the Alliance Master purge high-ranking demons and Heavenly Temple spies. The only reason she managed to act so decisively was because Asura’s war declaration hit the continent like a divine slap, forcing everyone to scramble, including me. Still, the Martial Alliance’s internal corruption was staggering; the Temple had practically owned the whole thing.
I’d sent Dave and Tao Long to check on the Union. If the Martial Alliance was infiltrated, the Union might be worse. But Dave hadn’t returned. The last message said Tao Long was challenged for his position among the warlords.
“Great,” I muttered. “Everything’s on fire.”
A small army of Ezekiels shuffled inside the room, each carrying stacks of paper. They spread out like disciplined ants, sorting, stamping, and filing documents with mechanical efficiency. Ever since Ezekiel discovered he could clone himself through some twisted application of Holy Spirit conjuration, he’d been spawning new versions like a one-skeleton assembly line. Not exactly normal, but extremely convenient.
One Ezekiel, this one wearing tiny glasses for no reason, walked up to my desk and held out his hands. “May I take those papers, Your Holiness?”
I handed him a portion and sighed in relief. “Thank you. Seriously. You’re a lifesaver.”
He bowed with stiff dignity and scuttled away. I watched him organize forms with a level of “intelligence” that made me wonder if his clones were evolving on their own.
Honestly? At this point, I wasn’t sure whether to be proud… or terrified.
“Meh… I will take what I can…”
Ezekiel picked up another stack of documents, and I let out a weak sigh of gratitude. Without him, I would have drowned under all this work. Even after half a year, my body wasn’t fully recovered. Joan had healed it as much as she could, but the damage from before lingered in ways that even the Empire’s powerful healers struggled with. At least my cultivation had climbed to Fourth Realm, Spirit Mastery. A small blessing.
The True Self’s assignment still hung over me: master the Four Great Attributes. Martial Tempering, Mind Enlightenment, and Will Reinforcement… I’d completed those. Spirit Mystery, however, remained frustratingly incomplete.
My Spirit Mystery wasn’t about wielding faith like a resource. That part was just a convenient side effect. Its real nature was “reciprocation” and returning faith in a way that strengthened both sides. I could raise my power through that exchange, but only if I understood it properly.
Which was why I was drowning in paperwork.
By reviewing each case, each petition, each , I was learning how to reciprocate the faith the people of the empire placed in their ruler. But recently, I realized something else: unless I understood how to properly ‘perceive’ faith itself, none of it mattered.
I closed my eyes and let Divine Sense flow outward. The awareness of the world shifted into a web of threads and gentle pulses. Each document on my desk was a thread connecting to someone far beyond Mt. Qingshi. A farmer in Southridge whose land needed protection from beasts. A merchant in Northshire requesting safer sky routes. A village head begging for someone to investigate a ghost.
Their hopes tugged faintly at me as the paperwork moved closer to resolution.
Then I compressed my Divine Sense inwards.
Two Guardians stood outside my office, one man and one woman. The threads of faith between them glowed a gentle gold. Through that light, I understood their bond instantly. They trusted each other deeply. They moved in harmony. They were in love.
The woman was pregnant. That earned a smile from my face.
What was faith? It wasn’t worship. It wasn’t obeisance. It was trust. Confidence. Bonds. A shared belief between people that shaped their futures. Without those connections, a person was nothing.
“No man’s an island,” I murmured to myself. I wasn’t sure where I’d heard it. “I guess you can’t have faith if you’re just one person… unless you’re crazy.”
A knock sounded on the door. The female Guardian’s voice entered my mind through Qi Speech. “Your Holiness, a guest requests an audience.”
“Send him in.”
The door opened. A thin man stepped forward, his long red hair dull, his posture weakened, and his skin pale. Yi Qiu looked like a man carved down to bone. His muscles were gone, his cultivation severely weakened. The stench of the palm mark that once corrupted him was also gone, but it remained visibly imprinted on his being.
“Alliance Master, you should be resting,” I said.
He offered a dry laugh. “Former Alliance Master. I’ve fallen too far to deserve that title. I heard what happened in the Martial Alliance.”
He didn’t need to say more. I understood the weight behind those words.
“You want to go home,” I said quietly.
Yi Qiu lowered his head. “Not yet. Before I decide what to do… I want your advice.”
I struggled to think of any real guidance. The situation across the world was too delicate.
The Animal Soul was deep inside the Heavenly Temple, weaving through their hierarchy and collecting information. The Ghost Soul was with Gu Jie, chasing the hidden origins of the Heavenly Demon. I had told Ghost to bring them home, but he insisted on honoring Gu Jie’s wishes. The Heaven Soul remained beside Yuen Fu, painstakingly repairing the man’s shattered body after his encounter with that Martial Ancestor. The Hell Soul focused on destroying every Hell Gate he could reach and raising Lu Gao’s strength. And the Asura Soul… he was tearing through the Heavenly Temple’s classified outposts using the information Jia Sen and Gu Jie had left behind. He even took the bulk of the Guardians with him, creating a massive show of force under the guise of subjugating criminals.
Oddly enough, the Heavenly Temple didn’t respond. They hid behind silence while continuing their slander of the Great Guard religion, as if pretending the war wasn’t already unfolding across every nation.
As for me? I was stuck governing the Holy Empire and dealing with whatever petty tricks the Heavenly Temple tried to slip under my nose.
I looked at Yi Qiu and said, “I don’t know how much advice I can offer you, but I do know this… Returning now will only invite disaster. Your reputation is damaged. Your cultivation is slipping. Your body is still healing. If you go back in this state, the Martial Alliance will only spiral further into their internal conflict.”
“So,” Yi Qiu frowned. “Civil war? It’s that bad?”
“Yes.” I nodded. “It’s that bad.”
Tan Jin’s purge weakened the Heavenly Temple’s influence, but the price was brutal. She was labeled a tyrant, and assassinations were happening almost daily. Duels broke out like wildfires. I had Ye Yong expand his network into the Martial Alliance and offered Tan Jin as much support as I could. Whatever her flaws, she was a valuable ally. Ultimately,  Tan Jin was able to solve every problem that came her way.
“If it helps,” I added, “I had the Night Blades keep watch on your daughter. Yi Chan should be safe.”
Yi Qiu bowed. “Thank you, Your Holy Majesty.”
Sadness weighed on his voice, heavy enough to make even Ezekiel pause.
“What’s the problem?” I asked.
He hesitated, then spoke with difficulty. “It’s the one who attacked me. I don’t think he belongs in this world. No… I’m certain he doesn’t. I barely remember the fight, but I remember dying… and then being allowed to live.”
A cold feeling slid down my spine. “What do you mean? Explain it clearly.”
“I remembered seeing a fragment of a special existence. A being called Aixin. At least, I think that was its name. I don’t think it’s the same existence, but they were definitely not of this world.” His eyes trembled. “It wasn’t a cultivator. It wasn’t a demon. It wasn’t anything the Hollowed World could define. I shouldn’t have survived back then.”
My breath caught for a moment.
It should be at least in the realm of a… Ruler of Law.
The Hollowed World wasn’t ready for that. Even a proxy of such a being was too much. The True Self nearly died fighting one. And now… another had shown itself?
I steadied my voice. “Thank you for telling me. You should meet Joan. Let her know I want your recovery prioritized. Don’t resist her treatments.”
Yi Qiu bowed again, shakier this time. “I understand, Your Holy Majesty. Thank you.”
He turned and left, his steps unsteady but determined.
Only after the door closed did I finally let out the breath I’d been holding.
A Ruler of Law’s shadow had reached the Hollowed World again.
“Fuck, is it Aixin again?”
I stood up from my desk and stared out the window, troubled.
I always believed I was the closest to the True Self. After all, I embodied the Human Path. I felt everything he once felt. Hope. Doubt. Yearning. Fear. Because of that, I had always thought I understood him the most.
But right now… I felt lost.
Worse, I felt jealous of him.
Jealous of the clarity he possessed. The strength. The certainty. The way he existed as though every path was open to him and every choice was correct.
“Hah…” I pressed my fingers against my temple. “What am I even thinking?”
The emotion clung tightly.
“No,” I scolded myself sharply. “Don’t think like that.”
For a moment, the Human Path, the very core of what I was, almost dragged me into a spiraling pit of petty, pointless envy. But the instinct faded as I reached inward and pulled on the threads of faith connected to me.
Warmth flowed into my chest.
Ever since I began governing as the Holy Emperor, I had received a steady supply of faith. Not as much as Asura, of course, but enough to soothe the instability creeping into my heart.
When my breathing finally returned to normal, I turned back toward the window.
Outside, Mt. Qingshi’s surroundings had transformed drastically.
On the left side stretched a forest. It was dense, vibrant green, and swaying under the wind. On the right side was barren sand mixed with stone, where builders from New Willow and the Northern Stronghold worked tirelessly as they contributed to the work. Cultivators lifted steel beams. Wide walls expanded day by day. A large fortress was growing around Mt. Qingshi like a titanic ring.
It was a defensive bastion for the current administrative body of the Holy Empire.
“Looks like they’re almost done…” I murmured.
Once I felt composed, I returned to my paperwork and paused.
On top of the pile was a neat, ribbon-bound packet requesting my presence to officiate a wedding. I was ready to decline, since my schedule was already bursting, until I saw the names.
Lin Lim and Ren Xun.
“…Seriously? Again?”
They had postponed their wedding so many times I thought they’d eventually forget it entirely. But apparently, assassination attempts had continued targeting Lin Lim for months. No clear culprit. No motive we could pin down. Nongmin had suggested we interrogate her about her origins, but what kind of tasteless brute would do that?
The woman had already lived through enough suffering.
I picked up the papers.
“So… who proposed this ceremony?” I muttered.
The signature at the bottom answered me immediately.
“Joan.” I sighed. “Of course.”
Included in the packet were the updated marriage laws, the ceremonial procedures of the Great Guard faith, and instructions for officiation. Most of it was in Joan’s handwriting. They were precise, elegant, and annoyingly thorough.
The ceremony mirrored the wedding system from LLO: the couple would exchange rings, make vows before a priest, and bind themselves with faith magic. I remembered when I tried to implement the old LLO system of a simple state marriage of walking into the local office, sign a paper, and done. It was the peak of efficiency. The backlash was tremendous.
The clergy protested. The nobles protested. Even the commonfolk rioted.
Then Alice cornered me personally and chewed me out for an hour straight.
“As a former Saintess,” she had yelled, “I will NOT let you destroy the romance of other people just because you want faster paperwork!”
I sighed at the memory. “Yeah… I deserved that.”
I set down the documents and prepared to approve the date.
Then the world shifted.
A subtle ripple passed through the air, so faint it almost felt like a trick of the senses.
But no.
This was killing intent!
My Divine Sense flared a heartbeat too late.
The wall behind me cracked open.
A man in black flashed through the gap like a streak of shadow, his sword already raised high, world-force compressed to the density of a collapsing star.
A Tenth Realm expert, Endless Path.
He had infiltrated the fortress.
“Oh, it seems our barrier techniques can still use improvement.”
That was my first thought as the assassin’s blade cut cleanly through my neck. The world spun upside down before my head hit the floor and rolled twice.
The assassin blinked in disbelief.
He wore dark robes stitched with toxic patterns that pulsed faintly under his skin. His stealth technique was excellent. My guess? He hid in Yi Qiu’s shadow and slipped past the wards when he entered the office. Shadow techniques were common among killers, but beneath the layer of poison and malice, I sensed formation energy in his meridians. So that was how he bypassed the dozens of detection formations around Mount Qingshi.
“The Heavenly Temple bids you farewell to the Underworld,” he declared proudly. “Hah~! This was too eas—”
He stopped.
Because the head he cut off was a skull.
Ezekiel’s clone.
The real me stood behind him, having swapped positions with the skeleton in the instant before the strike landed. Even though I possessed Supreme Mastery in martial arts, this body was too fragile for reckless moves. I was only in the Fourth Realm. One wrong motion and I’d tear something vital. So I let Ezekiel handle the assassin.
With my support, of course.
“Human Path: Enlightenment of the Fool.”
A soft pulse of power spread through the room. Every supernatural energy in this space stilled, except holy energy.
The assassin staggered, confused. “What? I… I can’t feel my shadow qi… Wait… Why do I feel holy energy inside me?”
He panicked, and rightly so.
Ezekiel conjured holy spears around him in a spinning formation. They shot forward all at once, piercing his limbs, torso, and throat. Blood splattered across my desk, coating several stacks of paperwork.
“Ah, damn it,” I groaned. “Now we’ve made a mess.”
The assassin collapsed, twitching as blood gushed from the holes in his body.
The door slammed open.
Two Guardians rushed in, tower shields half-summoned, faces pale. “Your Holy Majesty! Are you unharmed!?”
“It’s done,” I told them. “You’re safe to lower your guard.”
They looked devastated.
“We failed you again…”
“It’s not your fault,” I said firmly. “Your shift just happened to coincide with an assassination attempt. And this is only the third assassin this month. It’s just bad luck.”
That last sentence made them look even more guilty.
Before I could reassure them, the dying assassin spat blood and cackled, “G-glory… to the Heavenly Temple!”
His fingers dug into his dantian as he crushed it. Holy energy erupted out of him like a sun-flare.
“Die, Da Wei!”
It was impressive, really. He had learned to wield holy power in seconds. The previous assassins had been helpless under my Human Path ability, but this one adapted instantly. Unfortunately, all he managed to do was force me to waste time.
The Guardians threw themselves between me and the explosion. They summoned their tower shields fully and cast a Shield of Faith. Ezekiel conjured layers of golden shields around us like nesting shells.
The world flashed white.
The office exploded.
Flames, splinters, razor-sharp debris, and torn books flew everywhere. The ceiling cracked, the side wall vanished, and my entire set of neat paperwork disintegrated into ash. Several Ezekiels died noisily, bones clattering across the floor like broken toys.
When the holy shockwave faded, a cold wind entered through the gaping hole where the wall used to be.
I stared at the destruction.
“Ah. Wonderful.” I sighed heavily. “Half my paperwork is gone.”
On one hand, I was relieved, because it meant less work. On the other hand, hours of progress had been obliterated. Even if they were copies, it still annoyed me. This was probably the Heavenly Temple’s way of harassing me, reminding me they could reach anywhere. Or maybe they were simply irritated by whatever chaos Asura was causing on his end.
“Someone get Nongmin,” I said at last, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I need to scold him again about the formations. Tell him to upgrade the security. Thoroughly.”
One of the Guardians thumped his chest. “At once, Your Holy Majesty!”
He sprinted out, leaving behind the ruined office, scattered bones, drifting ash, and my increasing headache.

.
!
377 Paperwork and the Weight of an Empire