Immortal Paladin-394 The Four Heroes

Immortal Paladin-394 The Four Heroes

394 The Four Heroes
“What do you mean you forgot the stove off?”
Ru Qiu looked like he was seconds away from throwing himself off the cliff. Sweat dripped down his face. His hands shook. His eyes darted everywhere like a frightened rabbit. “T-this… this must be a dream, right? Right? Please tell me—”
“No, bro,” I said flatly. “This isn’t a dream.”
Before I could shake sense back into him, young Zhou Yong leapt from a high ledge above us with the full bravado of someone with no idea what danger actually meant. She snatched a spear out of her little storage ring, her Fifth Realm Soul Recognition aura flaring as she screamed.
“DIE, YOU DEMON!”
The spear hit Ru Qiu square in the face.
Now, did he bleed? No. Did he die? Also no. But that hit sent him flying like a sack of potatoes, tumbling down the cliff until he smashed against a boulder with a terrific crunch.
I groaned. “What is wrong with that guy? Since when can a Heavenly Demon not dodge something that slow?”
Zhou Yong wasn’t done. She pointed the spear at us. “I WILL SLAY ALL EV—”
Gu Jie sidestepped her with minimal effort and using a tiny motion, hooked Zhou Yong’s ankle.
The girl face-planted so hard I heard the teeth click.
Hei Mao dragged Ru Qiu back by the collar, shaking his head. “Master, he’s unconscious.”
Gu Jie calmly planted her foot on Zhou Yong’s back. The girl squirmed, face mashed into the dirt, but with Gu Jie’s cultivation… she wasn’t going anywhere.
This was bizarre on so many levels.
The Heavenly Demon fainting like a damsel in distress? Strange.
That mysterious woman who zapped us here with lightning? Also strange.
But the strangest thing? We were now apparently staring at what had to be the younger version of Zhou Yong. It was the same Zhou Yong who, in the present, was the Dragon God who could probably and casually crush mountains if she got annoyed.
Did we actually travel back in time?
Only one way to find out.
I crouched down until I was eye-level with the furious child warrior. “Hey, kid. Ever heard of the Grand Ascension Empire? Or the Holy Ascension Empire?”
She spat at me and it hit the porcelain mask.
“Rude.”
I snapped my fingers and invoked a controlled Searing Smite. The spit evaporated instantly, steam curling off my mask. “Now,” I said patiently, “I’m going to ask again. And you better think very carefully, because you won’t like what we’ll do if you pick the stupid answer.”
She paled.
Gu Jie added more pressure to her back. Zhou Yong cried out in pain.
“We can do all sorts of things,” Gu Jie said coldly. “For example… we can curse you with misfortune.”
She flicked her hand. Great Curse settled over the girl like a shadow. Zhou Yong went corpse-white and whimpered.
Hei Mao let Ru Qiu drop on the ground, and then walked over. His crimson scarf writhed, and faint ghostly faces appeared along its length.
“If you desire the company of hungry ghosts,” Hei Mao whispered, “just say the word.”
I removed my mask, gave her my most genial smile, and spoke softly, “Or we can treat you kindly. Truly. It’s your choice.”
I cast Cleanse twice. The curse lifted from her trembling form.
Zhou Yong sniffled. “P-p-please… treat me kindly…”
“Good girl.” I pointed my thumb toward Ru Qiu, who was still unconscious and lying like discarded laundry. “Do you recognize him?”
Her gaze flicked to Ru Qiu’s face. She swallowed hard and nodded nervously, shakily, as if each movement was a gamble with her life.
“I… I—I recognize him…”
Since the kid recognized Ru Qiu as the Heavenly Demon, the first thing to do was cover his face. The last thing we needed was a tiny version of the future Dragon God running around screaming about forbidden figures from legend. I handed Hei Mao my porcelain mask and pointed at Ru Qiu, who was still unconscious and snoring softly against the dirt. “Put it on him before his face gets us all murdered.”
Hei Mao obeyed without complaint. The mask clicked into place over Ru Qiu’s limp features. It looked ridiculous, but it would do.
I turned to Gu Jie. “Ideas? How do we keep this girl from flapping her mouth about things no one should ever hear?”
Zhou Yong’s face crumpled. She was already on the verge of tears. “I… I won’t tell anyone! I promise!”
Gu Jie sighed as if annoyed the child was making this difficult. She pulled out a parchment, dipped her finger into a bit of misfortune-infused quintessence, and quickly scribbled a binding clause. “A contract,” she said calmly. “If she talks about Ru Qiu or interferes with us in any way, she’ll be struck with great misfortune.”
Zhou Yong squeaked, “If you don’t let me go, my elder sister will be angry! She’ll smite you!”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Now that’s adorable. Maybe we don’t need a contract at all. Maybe we should just get rid of you.”
“NO!” she shrieked. “I’ll cooperate! I… I’ll do it!”
“That’s more like it,” I said. “You should’ve said that in the beginning.”
Gu Jie pricked her thumb, pressed her bloody mark onto the parchment, and handed it to me. I channeled mana and qi together, letting the energies clash until they formed a thin layer of shimmering quintessence around the contract to empower it and depower it as I pleased. I passed the parchment to the crying child.
“All that’s left is your part,” I said. “Thumbprint, please.”
Zhou Yong bit her thumb with a trembling mouth and pressed her blood onto the parchment. The moment she pulled her hand back, the parchment burst into silvery flames and vanished.
The contract was sealed.
She sniffed loudly. “C-can you let me go now?”
“Not yet,” I said. “We still have questions.”
Truthfully, we had too many questions. Where were we? When were we? The history of the Hollowed World was a chaotic mess, full of cleansed civilizations, lost records, rewritten truths, and inconsistent calendars scattered across continents.
One country used stars to measure years. Another used seasons. Some places didn’t use dates at all and measured time by rainfall or crop cycles. The Empire itself was notorious for having different calendars depending on the continent. The Riverfall Continent favored a lunar cycle; the Sunspire Continent measured years by the Golden Solstice. Add in the Cleanse and the thousand-layered mess of hidden histories, and deducing our place in time became a nightmare.
Even with all the texts I’d studied, I had no solid clue where or when we’d landed.
So I returned to basics.
I crouched down in front of the girl once more and repeated, “Have you heard of the Grand Ascension Empire or the Holy Ascension Empire?”
She shook her head. “N-no.”
“How about the Union?”
“Never heard of it…”
“The Martial Alliance?”
Another shake. “No… but I know martial groups.”
I rubbed my forehead. “That doesn’t help… What about the Heavenly Temple?”
Her eyes lit up, and then dimmed just as fast. “I… I don’t know about a Heavenly Temple… but I know about a Temple.”
That caught my attention.
I leaned forward and asked, slowly and clearly, “Tell me more about this Temple.”
Zhou Yong’s fear melted the instant I mentioned the Temple. Her eyes shone, sparkling with excitement as if she were about to share the greatest treasure of her life.
“The Temple of the Four Heroes!” she exclaimed, voice rising with pride. “It honors the ones who saved the world!”
She didn’t even wait for encouragement as she dove straight in, words tumbling out.
“There’s the wise Destiny Seeker who mapped the myriad fates! They say she saw all possible futures and chose the path that saved us. And the Martial God with fists that could destroy mountains! They say he shattered the Heavenly Demon’s black star with one punch! And then the Repentant Listener, who has a thousand arms and blind eyes. He hears every regret and every sin, and she can pull souls away from the brink of damnation!”
She paused, her chest puffing proudly before she delivered the last one.
“And finally, my master! The Dragon God! A winged sovereign who rules over the four seasons, who commands storms and frost and fire! Together, they defeated the monstrous Heavenly Demon who overturned the heavens, conquered the hells, and nearly destroyed the Hollowed World!”
Her hands balled into tiny fists. “The Four Heroes saved everyone!”
That was… a lot.
I had a vague idea who the Martial God was. It was probably the lunatic who kidnapped my True Self. And the Destiny Seeker? That practically screamed Wen Yuhan. But the Dragon God? The Repentant Listener? Those were entirely new. And if Wen Yuhan was remembered as a world-saving hero, then this had to be during or before her fall into the False Earth.
Which didn’t narrow it down at all.
Still… this meant Wen Yuhan should be relevant right now, enough that I could make an educated estimate in her memories about the time period.
First, I needed confirmation.
“What was the Destiny Seeker’s name?” I asked.
“Wen Yuhan!” Zhou Yong answered immediately. “The greatest seer in all the realms!”
Of course it was.
I turned to Gu Jie. “This confirms it. Ru Qiu probably regained his memories the second we landed here.”
Gu Jie’s eyes flashed. “Then this is the perfect time to uncover more about his past.”
“I disagree,” I said. “We already got what we want. His memories. Our priority is returning to our own time.”
“It won’t be that simple,” she warned.
She wasn’t wrong. My mind was already tangled with contradictions. In the False Earth, Wen Yuhan had been the youngest Ancient Soul. The Heavenly Demon, one of the oldest. Yet here, the story praised the Four Heroes as if they were all peers or even companions who fought the Heavenly Demon as a team.
That shouldn’t fit any version of history.
Worse, from Wen Yuhan’s memories that I received through Divine Possession, I didn’t recall anything about these Four Heroes, or the Heavenly Demon ravaging the world, or any events resembling this myth.
So what did this mean?
Was history wrong?
Or… had something been erased?
“Let her go.”
A calm voice cut through the tension.
I stood up at once, turning toward the source. At the edge of the clearing stood a woman I recognized instantly from her sharp presence, cold gaze, and unmistakable aura.
Wen Yuhan.
Except she was… younger. Her cultivation surged to the Eleventh Realm, Perfect Immortal, but only a single layer. She hadn’t yet truly ascended her soul to the next levels of immortality.
“Release the girl,” she warned, “or I will not show mercy.”
Hei Mao stepped forward, scarf writhing like a dozen serpents. “You dare threaten us?” His spiritual pressure burst outward. It was vast and terrifying, layered with several cycles of immortality. An Ascended Soul.
Wen Yuhan flinched.
Hei Mao smirked.
“I’d like to see you try.”
I supposed it was time to turn the charm up a little. Before I said anything, I took a closer look at her. Something about her felt deeply off. The Wen Yuhan I knew always wore a serene smile, even when she was about to stab someone metaphorically or literally. She was eccentric, playful, and frightening in the way a serpent could coil around your arm and pretend to be a ribbon. But the woman in front of me wasn’t smiling at all. Her eyes were sharp, her stance rigid, and her aura bristled with irritation. Recklessness. That was the word. And Wen Yuhan, the one I knew, never acted recklessly. Not even once.
So who exactly was I dealing with?
I approached her anyway. Confidence was easy when I knew this body could handle quintessence without falling apart.
I smiled warmly. “Surely there’s been a misunderstanding. How about we talk this over tea? I promise—”
“Stay where you are,” she snapped, her voice cutting through the air. “And shut your mouth.”
My smile froze. “Creep,” she snarled before I even had the chance to respond.
I lifted both hands in surrender. “I just want to talk, alright? No harm intended.”
Hei Mao’s scarf hissed with malice as it unfurled around him, blood-red light pulsing. “Master, maybe we should beat her up first.”
Zhou Yong shrieked, “Elder sister! They’re all demons! Kill them!”
Gu Jie pinched the bridge of her nose, looking like she wanted to throw herself off the nearest cliff.
Wen Yuhan was beyond angry now. The dragon veins beneath us stirred, vibrating like strings on a divine instrument. She opened her arms wide, and the world shuddered.
The mountain vanished. The forest vanished. Even the sky blinked out.
Only white remained.
“Grand Formation!” she declared. “White World!”
I blinked and suddenly I was alone in a blank expanse stretching in every direction.
“Huh.”
I tapped into my Divine Sense, letting it unravel the threads of the formation. It was impressive. An entire formation built on the world’s dragon veins, designed to trap someone inside the illusion of their own mind. But breaking it was only a matter of tugging at the right threads.
A breath later, my eyes snapped open.
Zhou Yong clung to Wen Yuhan, sobbing hard enough to drown a small river. Gu Jie stood beside me already awake, calm as ever, and told Wen Yuhan, “We simply wanted to talk.”
Wen Yuhan looked at us, bewildered. “How… did you break my formation so quickly?”
Her gaze drifted to Hei Mao, utterly baffled. “And why… is he still unconscious? Isn’t he supposed to be the strongest among you?”
Because Hei Mao was Hei Mao, that was why.
I sighed and crouched near him. “He still needs to hone his perception.”
With all the compassion of an older brother disciplining a troublesome sibling, I channeled a very controlled Divine Smite into my palm and slapped him across the face.
A soft pah echoed.
Hei Mao’s eyes flew open, scandalized. He shot upright and slapped me back without hesitation.
“...”
I definitely asked for that, but…
“What was that for?” I demanded, rubbing my cheek.
Hei Mao crossed his arms. “You started it, master.”
“I slapped you to wake you up,” I argued. “It was basically the equivalent of killing a mosquito that accidentally landed on your face.”
“But there were no mosquitoes on my face,” he countered flatly. “And even if there were, I am perfectly capable of killing it myself.”
I sighed. “Hei Mao… you’re the strongest among your fellow disciples, and it’s getting into your head. Getting slapped helps build character, you know.”
Hei Mao grew serious. “I heard Jue Bu say something similar. He said one should sometimes prefer to get slapped to build character.”
I patted his shoulder and released a weary breath. “Fine. Next time you’re stuck in your own mind, I’ll just leave you to your fate.”
Zhou Yong suddenly shouted, “Was I seriously scared of these weirdos? Get a grip!”
Gu Jie covered half her face with her palm, embarrassment radiating off her. “Can we please have that talk now?”
Wen Yuhan stood still for a moment, troubled. I searched her eyes again and found none of that mischievous spark I once knew. Instead, she looked cautious. Finally, she turned away and said, “Follow me. We’ll talk somewhere else.”
Hei Mao hoisted the unconscious Ru Qiu like a sack of rice, and the rest of us followed after Wen Yuhan heading into the forest.
The deeper we went, the more I noticed how different this world was. The qi was richer and more full-bodied, almost heavy. Elemental essence felt thicker, layering the world in vibrant strands. My Divine Sense brushed across everything, from the trees, the stones, the beasts hidden among the branches, and it felt… alive. Everything breathed in harmony.
“It’s peaceful here,” I commented as we walked. “The whole world feels… at ease.”
Wen Yuhan shot me a small frown. “Why would you think that?”
I shrugged vaguely. “Instinct, maybe. The Ghost Path makes me attuned to death. I can tell when something’s gone wrong with life. But here? Everything feels balanced.”
She didn’t answer and kept walking.
Not long after, we reached the temple, and I stared in mild shock at the four towering statues outside. They stood like silent guardians, each carved with masterful detail.
Hei Mao pointed at one of them, paling. “I-Is that… Ren Xun?”
Wen Yuhan snapped, offended, “That is the Dragon God, Yinglong.”
Gu Jie’s breath hitched as she turned toward a goddess-like statue draped in a thousand arms. She whispered softly, “Lin Lim…”
Wen Yuhan let out a tired sigh. “That is the Repentant Listener, Guanyin.”
My attention went to the statue that made my stomach twist. It was the familiar figure responsible for kidnapping my main body some time ago. “And this one?” I asked, though I already knew.
“The Martial God,” Wen Yuhan answered. “Feng Wei.”
Before I could dwell on that, Zhou Yong marched proudly toward the last statue, one carved in the likeness of Wen Yuhan herself. She posed with both hands on her hips and announced, loud enough to echo across the courtyard:
“And this is the most legendary of the Four Heroes! The Destiny Seeker, Wen Yuhan!”

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394 The Four Heroes