Immortal Paladin

071 Ironmoor City

The Floating Dragon hovered above the treetops, circling the outskirts of the city like a hawk sizing up its prey. From my vantage point on the deck, I got my first look at Ironmoor City. The name fit. The entire place looked like it had been hammered out of the earth itself—tall, grim stone walls reinforced with streaks of dark iron, squat buildings packed tightly together, and a web of narrow streets winding between them like cracks in a boulder. Smoke curled from dozens of chimneys, blending into the grayish haze that hung over the city. Even in the early morning, the streets bustled with movement.

Ren Xun stood near the control panel, eyes sharp as he scanned the horizon.

"Ironmoor City," he announced, hands resting on the wheel. "Originally a mining settlement, but it grew into a trade hub thanks to the iron veins running deep beneath it. The city’s got a reputation for being rough, but it's orderly enough. The local sect keeps a tight grip on things—Black Anvil Sect, known for their craftsmanship and, well, their tempers. They control the forges and set the prices on iron and steel. You want quality weapons, you go to Ironmoor."

He adjusted the ship's altitude, lowering us slightly. "The market district is right near the main gate, easy to spot from up here. Beyond that, you’ve got the Black Anvil Sect’s compound taking up a huge chunk of the city’s western quarter. There’s also an arena in the center—fighters from all over come here to test their skills, settle disputes, or just put on a show."

I leaned over the railing, watching the streets below. "Sounds lively."

Ren Xun snorted. "Lively is one word for it. Dangerous is another. If you know the right people, you can find almost anything here, but the Black Anvil Sect doesn’t take kindly to troublemakers. They don’t bother with formal trials. If you break their rules, you get exiled, beaten, or buried."

That was good to know. Not that I planned to cause trouble.

"So," I said, "where’s the best place to eat?"

Ren Xun gave me a flat look. "Senior, with all due respect, do you ever think about anything besides food?"

I grinned. "Of course. But food is still a top priority."

Lu Gao let out a chuckle. "There’s a famous tavern near the market called The Iron Kettle... or so I've heard. They serve Black Iron Stew—said to put hair on your chest and steel in your bones. Never tried it myself, but I hear it’s a favorite among the miners and blacksmiths."

I nodded approvingly. "Sounds promising."

Gu Jie, who had been silent until now, leaned against the railing, her gaze fixed on the streets below. "We should be careful," she said. "The Black Anvil Sect won't be the only power here. There are mercenary groups, rogue cultivators, and traders with too much greed and not enough sense in the world. I knew that for a fact. If we’re not careful, we might find ourselves entangled in something we don’t want to be part of."

Hei Mao looked uncertain. "So... should we go in disguised?"

Ren Xun smirked. "That depends. Do you want to cause a scene or slip in unnoticed?"

I clapped my hands together. "Let's get a closer look first. No need to rush in blind."

Ren Xun nodded and adjusted the controls. 

Lu Gao whistled low as we approached Ironmoor walls. "I heard stories about this place, but damn... I didn’t think the walls would be this high."

He wasn’t wrong. The city was surrounded by an imposing black stone wall, easily five times my height, reinforced with dark iron plating at key points. The whole thing looked more like a fortress than a trade hub. Watchtowers loomed at even intervals, each manned by armed sentries, and beyond the walls, the city stretched out in a mess of squat, sturdy buildings packed tightly together.

Ren Xun was standing at the helm. He glanced back at us. "That’s because the city isn’t just protected by its walls. It’s policed by Black Clan cultivators. There is prestige to this city in a sense."

Gu Jie raised a brow. "Black Clan? And what’s their connection to the Black Anvil Sect?"

Ren Xun scoffed. "It’s in the name, isn’t it? Black Anvil Sect—Black Clan. The sect isn’t just a group of blacksmiths and fighters; they’re the Black Clan’s enforcers in this region or the closest thing to it. The two are practically one and the same."

That explained a lot. The iron grip on the city, the no-nonsense reputation, the fact that they didn’t tolerate troublemakers. It wasn’t just a sect throwing its weight around—it had the backing of an actual Imperial House.

I turned back to Ren Xun. "Have you been here before?"

"Twice," he admitted. "This is my third time."

I filed that away for later. Ren Xun had connections in more places than he let on. Well, he was the second son of an imperial prince, so I shouldn’t be too surprised.

Eventually, Ren Xun guided the Floating Dragon to a halt just outside the city walls. We weren’t the only ones with a flying vessel—several other floating boat-like artifacts were docked nearby, their hulls shimmering with defensive formations. Armed men and women stood guard around them. Some wore uniforms I didn’t recognize, but Ren Xun pointed out a few uniformed cultivators.

"The local militia," he said. "They help keep the peace, but only when it’s convenient."

I was about to ask what that meant when a trio of cultivators on flying swords approached. They hovered in the air for a moment, then slowly descended until they were floating adjacent to our ship. Their leader, a man with a thick beard and an impatient expression, called out in a firm tone.

"Calm down. This is standard protocol."

His two subordinates landed beside him, their swords sheathed, but their presence was anything but relaxed. I could tell they were used to throwing their weight around.

I activated Voice Chat and sent a quick message to Ren Xun. “I’ll leave this to you.”

Ren Xun’s response was immediate. “Affirmative.”

With an easy, confident stride, he walked up to the trio of guards and cupped his fists in a respectful salute. "Honored Ironmoor guards, I am Ren Xun, captain of this fine vessel. How may I be of service?"

He delivered the words with the kind of flamboyant flourish that made me want to roll my eyes, but it did its job. The bearded cultivator nodded, seemingly satisfied. "Inspection."

Ren Xun smiled. "Of course. By all means, inspect away."

The bearded guard gave us a long, appraising look. "Business or pleasure?"

Ren Xun grinned. "Depends."

The guard’s eyes narrowed.

Ren Xun chuckled and relented. "We’re here to resupply. Our final destination is the Imperial Capital."

"Tourists," the guard muttered with a snide twist of his lips.

One of the other guards was scribbling on a piece of paper, barely paying attention to the conversation. Curious, I glanced at what he was writing. It wasn’t just a log—he was making annotations. He’d sketched a crude diagram of our boat and was jotting down the number of people inside.

My eyes flicked to the other boats. The merchants must love this place, judging by the number of times "merchant" was ticked on that paper.

Trade in this world was an interesting thing. Unlike in LLO, where merchants needed massive caravans, storage rings changed the game entirely. Yeah, Item Box existed in LLO, but they were something a mere NPC would never be able to have. A single trader in this world could theoretically carry an entire shop’s worth of goods in a small ring on their finger. 

I let my Divine Sense extend outward, scanning the adjacent boats. As expected, all of them had some level of cultivation. Some were minor, barely at the first realm, but a few carried the weight of seasoned fighters. The presence of boats made more sense now. It wasn’t about the merchants themselves—it was about accommodating the guards they hired.

The second guard, the one still jotting notes, glanced up and said, "You should check out the market for weapons. Might find something useful." Then, with a smirk, he added, "Maybe even hire some guards."

Yeah, right. In his Qi Sense, we must have looked like chumps.

But then their leader turned his gaze to Hei Mao. The other two followed suit.

And just like that, their entire attitude shifted.

The leader of the guards immediately cupped his fists and bowed. "Young Master."

The other two followed, their backs straighter, their expressions now full of restrained deference.

I expected them to recognize him—Hei Mao was a walking anomaly—but I didn’t anticipate this level of ass-kissing. There was only one explanation.

They had no idea who he was.

They just knew what he was.

Hei Mao’s Fourth Realm cultivation must have rattled them. These guards were strong, but not that strong. One was Third Realm, the other two were Second Realm. To them, Hei Mao wasn’t just some wandering traveler—he was a monstrous genius. A prodigy who could crush them with a flick of his wrist.

Or maybe it was his features. He shared the same surname as the Black Clan. Combined with his level of cultivation, it wasn’t strange these guards might have misunderstood his origins.

It wasn’t like Hei Mao’s nature as a ghost was that obvious, after all.

I used Voice Chat to warn him. “Don’t tell them your name.”

Hei Mao, to his credit, didn’t even flinch. He simply returned the bow and said, "You’re doing good work. The city’s security is in capable hands."

The guards puffed up a little at the compliment, nodding in satisfaction.

“Just want to clarify something, but…” Ren Xun squinted at the city gates. "What's up with that? Why are they closed? Last time I was here, while the boat inspection was pretty much mandatory, I don’t remember the gates being closed in this time of the day.”

The leader of the guards straightened his back. "Ironmoor City is on high alert."

That immediately set off alarms in my head.

"A Demonic cultivator and a Buddhist fanatic have been stirring up trouble for the Abyssal Clans and some affiliated sects," the guard continued. "Until the situation is under control, all entrants need a permit in advance."

I exchanged a glance with Ren Xun. That was an odd combination—demonic cultivators and Buddhist fanatics weren’t exactly known for getting along. Even I knew that. But I wasn’t about to pry when the guards were already being cooperative.

The leader of the guards nodded reassuringly. "That said, we can expedite the process for you."

I had a strong suspicion that was thanks to Hei Mao’s presence.

"The boat has to remain outside," the guard added. "But with your permission, we can post a guard here."

Ren Xun cupped his fists and offered a respectful nod. "We appreciate the generosity."

One of the other guards produced a small, official-looking document and handed it to Ren Xun. "Just show this to the gate guards, and they'll let you through."

Simple enough.

The guards finally departed, one of them assuring us that they’d send someone to watch over the boat. Ren Xun handled the formalities rather competently. The kid might have been a self-proclaimed wastrel, but he knew how to work a situation.

Gu Jie turned to me. "Master, permission to investigate and arrange a room while we wait here?"

I nodded. "Go ahead."

Summoning Dave for backup wouldn’t hurt. I raised a hand and activated Summon: Holy Spirit. A golden light pulsed, and Dave materialized beside me, standing tall in his knightly armor.

"Dave, go with her," I instructed.

Gu Jie cupped her fists and bowed in my direction. "Understood."

Dave performed a knight’s salute, thumping his chest. "By your will, My Lord."

Gu Jie retrieved the permit from Ren Xun. "How long is this good for?" she asked.

Ren Xun shrugged. "The permit’s reusable within the day, so no problem there. You can come back and pick us up at your leisure."

"Good," I said. "While you’re at it, keep an ear out for any cultivators using black masks."

Hei Mao perked up. "I'll go too!"

I gave him a look. "No."

He deflated a little but didn’t argue.

Before she left, I added, "If there's an emergency, feel free to rely on Dave."

Gu Jie nodded. "Of course."

With that, she and Dave finally left for the city, disappearing past the gates.