Immortal Paladin

134 The Black Knight in the Dunes

It had been days since Lu Gao was flung across the continent by the violent tear of a Great Teleportation scroll.

He didn’t know where he was. He didn’t even know if he was still on the same continent, let alone the same world. All he had were sun-scorched skies, winds that howled like ghosts, and sand… sand in his boots, his clothes, his ears, and his teeth.

The suit Mistress Aili Si had forced onto him was in shambles. A once dignified thing, black with clean silver stitching, made for imposing bodyguards with square shoulders and unspoken threat, now hung limply around his frame like a funeral shroud. The wind had torn through it in places, and grit worked its way between the layers like angry ants.

It was better than nothing, but only barely.

His lips cracked every time he exhaled. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. Every swallow was dry and fruitless. He was thirsty. Beyond that, he felt like dying. Not once. Not twice. But ten times over. He had considered collapsing into the dunes more than once.

Only pride and the blood link Aili Si had made, kept him upright.

She had tasted his blood. That meant she’d come find him.

Eventually.

Hopefully.

He’d cursed her name more than once under his breath, but never aloud.

“Stupid mistress,” he muttered one night, dragging his legs through the sand. His voice was raspy and broken. “Stupid scroll. Stupid sky.”

Night was when he moved.

The sun during the day was unforgiving, less like a celestial body and more like a blade, hovering just above his head, slicing into his skin with every passing hour. So he would hide beneath dunes during the worst of it, climbing to the leeward side of tall sand hills and digging just enough to lie half-buried in their shade.

The nights weren’t much kinder.

Winds picked up, biting and cold. His fingers would stiffen, and each gust carried a whisper that sounded too much like mockery.

His cultivation helped… somewhat. Without it, he’d be dead a dozen times over. With it, he was just almost dead.

But he was still moving.

Sometimes, as he walked, he thought about food. Real food. The kind that Da Wei would recommend, sometimes literally forced by his eccentric Master. Most he enjoyed, some he found questionable. “Gods,” he groaned, staggering to a stop and clutching his stomach. “I’d kill a sand beast for a bite.”

But there were no sand beasts here. No oases. No birds overhead. No signs of life at all. Only shifting dunes that moved behind his back as if mocking his sense of direction. Sometimes, when he crested a high dune at night, he would drop to his knees and scan the horizon. Hoping. Praying.

Once, he thought he saw lights. A glow against the curve of the world. But it vanished the moment he blinked.

“Mistress better find me soon…” he murmured, voice hoarse. “Or I’ll find her first and die just to haunt her.”

Then he chuckled… a dry, cracked thing that sounded more like coughing. Still, the moment passed.

Lu Gao pressed onward.

Each step sank deep. Each breath felt like inhaling powdered stone. The stars above, dim and strange in this world, watched in silence. He could barely remember what day it was. What time it was. He only moved forward now.

And hoped he was not walking in circles.

Lu Gao trudged through the sand, shoulders hunched, every step a burden.

The desert was endless.

And worse… it was shapeless.

The dunes shifted, rose and fell, the wind carving new paths behind his back. He had tried to mark his trail, drew lines with his boot heel, left scraps of fabric from his ruined coat, but each time he looked back, there was nothing. Just wind-smoothed earth and silence.

One of his greatest fears wasn’t dying.

It was dying stupidly.

Like a fool who walked in circles in an empty desert. Alone. Forgotten. Nothing but a sun-bleached skeleton for the vultures that never came.

“This isn’t a battlefield,” he rasped. “This isn’t a glorious death…”

He paused, shoulders trembling, and stared at the footprints he had just made.

Then looked ahead.

Then looked behind.

A sinking feeling gripped his gut.

The tracks curved. Slightly. Almost imperceptibly. But… curved.

“No,” he said. “No. No. No—!”

He spun, turning in a slow circle, kicking sand. The desert didn’t care. The sky didn’t care. The world gave no answer.

He had been walking in circles.

“DAMN IT!” he screamed, falling to his knees.

The impact sent his face slamming into the hot, dry grit. His skin burned where it touched the ground. But he didn’t move.

He just lay there. Breathing. Broken.

And then… the dreams came.

There was music.

Soft. Like wind chimes and silver bells.

He stood in a place without sand or sun. A ballroom of shifting stars and mirrored glass, wrapped in fog. And before him danced a woman. She was beautiful. She wore a dress of shadows and starlight. Her body shimmered as though not quite real, not quite present. But she had no face. No mouth. No eyes. No voice.

And yet… she sang.

He could hear her… feel her. Not in his ears, but in his bones.

She reached out to him, and he took her hand. They danced. Slowly, fluidly, like they’d done it a thousand times. He didn’t know the steps. But somehow, he followed.

They spun. They laughed. And then… they kissed.

Her lips were soft. Cold. Like water that had never known the sun.

And then her voice whispered through the veil:

“Do you want power?”

He stiffened.

“Do you want life?”

His mouth trembled.

“How about a long life?”

“An eternal life?”

Something inside him cracked.

“I… I don’t want to die,” Lu Gao whispered. “Not yet.”

His chest tightened. His breath caught.

“I am… sorry, Master,” he added quietly. “I was weak…”

The woman didn’t reply. Instead, she began to rot.

Her skin peeled, cracked, and turned black. Her body crumbled like old ash. Her once-lovely dress burned with black flame, the fire curling upward, hungrily.

It caught him, too.

The flames spread along his limbs, his chest, his heart… burning, searing, whispering promises he didn’t understand. He screamed, tried to run, but he couldn’t move. His feet had turned to obsidian. His voice cracked like shattering glass.

And then…

A knight appeared in place of the woman.

Clad in black armor, faceless and silent. He stood with one foot in the fire and did not burn.

The flames obeyed him.

He reached toward Lu Gao, not with a hand, but with a single black sword. Its blade was jagged, old, worn from use. Yet it pulsed… alive.

Lu Gao stared into the knight’s blank visor and felt something behind it watching him.

And then the knight asked, voice like steel dragging on stone:

“Will you walk forward?”

Lu Gao gasped and sat up.

His body was half-buried in sand. The wind had covered him. The sun had not yet risen. But the chill in his spine remained.

He clutched his chest, still feeling the phantom heat of black flames.

He looked up.

No stars. No ballroom. No knight.

Just dunes. And darkness.

But something had changed.

He stood, legs shaking. Looked around.

Then he took a step.

Forward.

Lu Gao’s breath was shallow, his eyes twitching beneath closed lids as if still scanning a battlefield. He stirred beneath the half-buried folds of his ragged clothes, the desert’s chill seeping into his bones despite the sun that had long since risen. And yet… he was no longer thirsty.

His lips were no longer cracked. His skin no longer burned.

He was whole.

And that terrified him more than any nightmare.

He sat up slowly. No sand clung to him. No aches in his joints. He touched his chest where the black flames had once danced… nothing. Just flesh, breath, and a strange silence.

“…Was it all a dream?” he whispered.

The wind didn’t answer.

Instead, a gentle scent drifted toward him. Familiar. Sweet. Like moon blossoms after rain.

He turned.

There she was… standing atop the dunes like she had never left.

Aili Si.

Mistress. Teacher. Warlock.

Her dark gown fluttered in the breeze, though there was no wind. Her face bore a wistful smile, one that reached her eyes, though there was an odd weight behind it.

“Lu Gao,” she said warmly, approaching. “I finally found you.”

He blinked. “M-Mistress?”

His voice cracked… not from thirst, but emotion. He hadn’t seen her since the moment she forced the teleportation scroll into his palm and cast him away. She stopped before him. Looked him over. And then, to his complete surprise, she hugged him.

Warm. Close. Motherly.

Too real.

“What… is this about?” he asked nervously, arms half-raised, unsure if he should return the embrace. “I… I mean… why now?”

She let go and gave him a gentle pat on the chest. “Cho An is waiting for us,” she said softly. “We shouldn’t keep her long.”

Lu Gao blinked rapidly. “Wait, Cho An? She’s okay?”

Aili Si smiled again, that same dreamy, heavy-lidded smile. “Of course, silly. Everything’s okay now.”

Lu Gao didn’t move. A part of him wanted to believe it. Desperately. He’d been through too much. Alone, lost, hunted by a demon in his sleep. And now… safety? Reunion?

But something was wrong.

Very wrong.

Because hanging from Aili Si’s waist, tucked between two scrolls and tied with a strip of her black cloth, was a floating skull.

One that had been obnoxiously perverted the last time they met.

It opened its mouth.

“Motherfucker.”

Lu Gao flinched.

“You’re still dreaming, you fucking idiot!” the skull bellowed. “Wake! The fuck! Up!”

The illusion shattered like a mirror hit by a hammer.

Aili Si’s face cracked. Her body turned to wax and caved inward, eyes melting like ink across parchment. The dunes split open and revealed a hollow sky, dripping blood instead of light. The skull caught fire, laughing madly as the earth beneath Lu Gao’s feet gave way into blackness.

And then…

Lu Gao woke screaming, back in the real desert, coughing up sand.

His lips were dry again.

His throat was sore.

And the knight’s shadow loomed in the distance, watching from the horizon. Silent. Waiting.

Lu Gao blinked, the sun stabbing his eyes like tiny daggers. His mouth tasted of ash and grit, and every breath was a punishment. But worse than the sun, the sand, or even his shriveled stomach…

…was the presence he felt looming nearby.

It stood tall and unmoving on the edge of the dunes, the same way it had in his dreams. The black knight… armor made of obsidian smoke and ancient bone, its helm a twisted imitation of a man’s face frozen in a silent scream. A single greatsword rested on its shoulder like an extension of its will.

Cold dread gripped Lu Gao’s spine.

Then something floated into view beside him.

“Oi, dick-for-brains. Get up and stop playing corpse, we’ve got company.”

The skull.

It floated casually beside Lu Gao, its cracked bone surface decorated with crude etchings and offensive runes. Two azure flames burned where eyes should have been, and they narrowed toward the distant knight with absolute disgust.

“I called dibs on this kid, you oversized hunk of metal.”

The skull spat the words like poison, somehow managing to float aggressively as if trying to puff up its nonexistent chest.

The knight didn’t flinch. Didn’t move. Just stared.

Lu Gao, still on his knees, turned to the skull. “What the hell… how are you even here? The last time I saw you, Mistress Aili Si had you sealed in her shadow.”

The skull rotated to face him, flame-eyes rolling like a teenager forced to explain basic math.

“Of course I’m here. What, you think I’m some low-tier artifact who gets sealed once and gives up? I infiltrated your arm before we parted, obviously. Left a clone behind in the Mistress’s shadow. That one’s probably still screaming about her underwear or something.”

Lu Gao’s eye twitched. “You… did what?”

“Yeah, you are my bitch now.” The floating menace cackled, then turned back toward the knight. “Honestly, you’re lucky I’m here. Otherwise you’d already be a soul popsicle in that bastard’s collection.”

Lu Gao swallowed thickly, eyes darting between the immobile black knight and the surprisingly loyal skull. “Wait, what does it want? It’s just… standing there.”

The skull turned to him, suddenly dead serious.

“What does it want?” It floated closer, until Lu Gao could practically feel the heat of its soulflames. “You made a contract, dumbass.”

Lu Gao blinked. “...What?”

The skull groaned.

“In your delirium. In your half-dead, hallucinating, emotionally repressed sand-drenched misery… you cried out to the void for power. For life. Remember the faceless lady? The kiss? Yeah, that was him, dumbass.”

Lu Gao felt cold.

“That… no, that wasn’t real. That was a dream.”

“Yeah, and dreams are just invitations in the demon world. You said yes, buddy. You sang and danced with your damn soul. You told it you didn’t want to die.”

“…I mean, I don’t…”

“Too late!” The skull clattered with laughter. “You’re now half a hair away from becoming Demon Knight Number Two. Congratulations! Your Master would be so proud.”

Lu Gao paled. “I didn’t mean to…”

“They never do.” The skull sighed. “Look, if we’re fast, I might be able to block that bastard off before the contract anchors fully. But you gotta stop dreaming about faceless chicks and start listening to me.”

The black knight took one step forward.

Sand exploded beneath its foot. The wind howled. The sky flickered like a dying lantern.

Lu Gao’s heart thundered.

“…I’m listening,” he said.

“Okay, here’s the deal,” the skull said, floating just inches from Lu Gao’s face. “You’re gonna make a contract with me.”

Lu Gao recoiled. “No way!”

The skull groaned. “Ugh, why so stubborn? Listen here, you absolute blister on the foot of fate… Just like your Master and the two Mistresses of Pain I so dearly adore, I’m an Outsider too, but like, on the good side. So you can put more trust in me than that Silent Stalker of Soul-Depths you’re about to be turned into a finger puppet by!”

“I don’t even know what an Outsider is!” shouted Lu Gao, gripping the side of his head. “And I definitely don’t trust you!”

“Big words for someone who’s about to become demon chow,” the skull snapped back.

As if on cue, the sky above them cracked like fragile glass. Dark clouds boiled into existence from nowhere, swirling like ink dropped into water. Thunder did not roar, but it growled: low and slow, as if savoring the dread building below.

“What’s happening?!” Lu Gao cried, shielding his eyes from the sand kicking up all around him.

The earth vibrated.

Then… whispers.

Hundreds. Thousands.

They hissed like dying voices, speaking no language, yet felt like promises broken in every tongue. The sand trembled and began rising in defiance of gravity, gathering into a slowly coalescing shape. A figure. The black knight’s outline was returning, sculpted from dust and dread, its presence sharpening the very air into razors.

The skull spun toward it and shouted, “Great! Now you’ve done it! If you tarry any longer, we’ll be up against a demon on par with the Eleventh Realm! That’s Realm Eleven, kid! ELEVEN! We’ll be sand jam in seconds! FULL FUCKING DEMONIC DESCENT!”

Lu Gao’s knees buckled. “What are the terms?!” he shouted, voice cracking.

“Right, contract terms!” The skull straightened midair, floating with the solemnity of a high priest. “One: no sex… don’t even think about it. Two: no meat… spiritual or otherwise. Three: accept change when change comes.”

“What the hell does that even mean?!” Lu Gao shouted.

“You’ll find out when it hurts!” the skull answered cheerily.

The sand figure raised its arm. A jagged blade, too massive to be real, formed from the desert and pointed directly at Lu Gao’s chest.

“I ACCEPT!!!” screamed Lu Gao at the top of his lungs.

At that moment, the world bent.

It bent around him… space, sound, soul.

Mana erupted from every pore in his body, a geyser of raw potential. His qi, once inexistent, sluggish, and starved, flared with it, caught in the tide of alien energy. Together, they twisted.

“Prepare yourself,” warned the Skull. “It’s known with many names: True Qi, Immortal Qi, Divine Power, Quintessence, etc… Remember this, Lu Gao! The threshold between immortality and godhood!”

Purple flames roared around him. They weren’t hot, but hungry. They devoured doubt, fear, and uncertainty. They drank from his exhaustion. His eyes rolled back as visions of unfamiliar constellations flashed through his mind… creatures without names, planes without borders.

And then… He collapsed, the fire consuming everything.

The sand knight stopped mid-strike, its blade shattering into harmless glass.

And Lu Gao lay unconscious in the desert, a faint halo of violet smoke curling from his skin.