430 Delegation of Labor

430 Delegation of Labor

Within the Source, I observed the final stages of preparation.

On one side were the developers of Lost Paladin Online, eyes bloodshot, nerves stretched thin. On the other were the business teams, carefully rehearsing optimism as they finalized plans for Beta Test 2.0.

The first beta had been conservative by design. It was meant for veterans of LLO, players already accustomed to the brutality, opacity, and unforgiving mechanics. This second beta was different. It opened the gates to a broader audience: MMO players unfamiliar with the game, streamers chasing novelty, and, somewhat reluctantly, game journalists who had paid their way in.

Given LLO’s history, expectations were low. Consistently poor reviews had made that certain. A souls-like MMO had always been an acquired taste, and trying to turn it into a commercially viable franchise bordered on madness. That funding had even materialized was nothing short of miraculous, and I knew exactly who to thank for it.

Wen Yuhan’s incarnation.

The so-called “black technology” that players marveled at, the uncanny NPC reactions, the sense that the world remembered you, were not innovations in code alone. They were this world, filtered through my perception and translated by the Source into something a machine could understand.

“How is the outside world?” asked Wen Yuhan as I met her in her dream.

“Bad,” I answered honestly. “But we’re making progress. We’re taking it back.”

“That’s good.”

“And the project?” I asked.

I already knew the answer, but conversation had its comforts.

“It’s going well,” she said. “The developers complain constantly, but Karen has them under control.”

I felt the pull then, faint but insistent. Someone was calling me back.

“I have to go,” I told her.

When I opened my eyes, I was no longer within the Source.

My armor was gone. I sat upon a throne forged from my own quintessence, its structure designed to deepen my connection to the Source without fully submerging me. Darkness surrounded us. After escaping the Heavenly Temple Academy, we had fled north, into a forest Wu Chen knew well. Beneath its roots, we had carved out a hidden refuge.

The only light came from an illumination spell Peng Ru maintained overhead.

“The wards are finished,” Gu Jie said. “They’ll hold for a few days at most. After that, the Heavenly Temple’s trackers will find us.”

“Then we need a strategy,” I replied. “But first, we need a direction. What can you tell me?”

She hesitated. “Before that, there’s something you need to receive. And other matters we can’t avoid.”

Gu Jie waved her hand, and a body appeared.

Mo Yu.

Even lifeless, his presence was unmistakable. I recognized him immediately from Asura Soul’s and Animal Soul’s memories. “This man possessed Six Paths mastery,” Gu Jie said. “What he knew will help you. Significantly.”

I looked at the corpse, then back at her. “How necessary is this?”

“The enemy waiting for you at the end of all this will be too strong. You’ll need every advantage you can take.”

Da Ji, no longer in her towering fox form, clicked her tongue sharply. “Watch your mouth, Gu Jie. Brother, you don’t have to do this.”

“It’s fine,” I raised a hand to stop her and said. “She isn’t wrong.”

My counterpart had devoured my Six Path Souls once before.

He had taken not only their power, but the accumulation of everything I had learned through them. If not for the Source, I would never have been able to regenerate the Six Paths at all. The truth of it disheartened me. I loathed how dependent I had become on this power, how survival demanded a cycle of consumption and renewal that grew ever more cruel.

Yet if this was the price required to protect those around me, then I would pay it.

The corpse before me belonged to Mo Yu, the Immortal Sage and the true master of the Union. If I used that Ultimate Skill, I would not merely steal his strength. I would come to know him. His past. His convictions. His failures. His longing. Divine Possession did not allow distance or detachment; it forced understanding.

Regardless of whether he had been an enemy or a stranger, I would sympathize with him in the end.

I spoke softly. “Divine Word: Raise.”

Mo Yu’s body was ruined with burns layered over curses, and wounds gnawed by lingering malice. Even a Divine Word hesitated, as if recoiling from how thoroughly his existence had been broken. The spell alone could not restore him.

I followed immediately with another command.

“Divine Word: Life.”

A faint glow returned to his eyes.

Before he could draw breath, I invoked my Six Path Souls and cast Divine Possession. They surged into him like a tide meant to drown. Mo Yu clenched his jaw and roared in defiance.

“Six Paths Unity: Immortal Sage!”

His body convulsed. Quintessence erupted outward, so violent it shook the underground refuge. The wards Gu Jie had constructed groaned, cracks spiderwebbing through them as Mo Yu’s power threatened to spill free.

“Tch,” Jue Bu scoffed. “This brat really doesn’t know his place.”

With a flick of his finger, spectral chains manifested and wrapped around Mo Yu, anchoring him to the wards themselves. Ru Qiu followed without hesitation, disdain etched into his expression.

“Trash,” he muttered.

Dark, fiery chains burst from Mo Yu’s shadow and bound him further, suppressing what remained of his resistance.

Only then did Divine Possession take full effect.

I was pulled into his life.

I lived as a runaway slave. A desperate mortal clawing for freedom.

I felt the terror of chains, the hunger of cold nights, the despair of realizing the world had been built to grind people like him into dust. I walked the path of cultivation burdened by the sins of others, struggling to reconcile power with morality.

I stood as the scholar-warrior of Steel Mountain, wielding knowledge and steel in pursuit of a justice that answered to no throne. I became the master of the Union, choosing survival over purity, compromise over annihilation. And finally, I felt the suffocating weight of immortality in a world he had long since deemed cursed.

From the moment he was young, Mo Yu had dreamed of escape. It was neither power nor dominion he craved, but freedom. To leave this world. To walk among the stars. To exist without chains, visible or otherwise.

There was no one in this world without a story.

Mo Yu’s was no exception.

Through Divine Possession, I learned how he had achieved harmony between the Six Paths through acceptance. By allowing contradiction to coexist. By embracing imperfection.

He was, without question, a sage.

“I understand now,” I said quietly, though he could no longer hear me as himself. “Your pain. Your anger. Your longing.”

“You’ll live on within me.”

“Farewell.”

The Ultimate Skill shifted, evolving under the weight of what I had taken.

Divine Possession became… Six Paths: Divine Possession.

With a thought, I forced his qi to rupture his own meridians. Quintessence scattered beyond control. My souls tore through what remained of his, guiding them back into the ether to begin again in another life.

I wished him luck.

Mo Yu turned to ash.

Gu Jie cleared her throat, drawing my attention back from the settling ash.

“For the next agenda,” she said calmly, then turned her head. “Hei Mao.”

Hei Mao stepped forward. He lowered his head and spoke with solemn respect.

“Master,” he said, voice steady, “please bring back Ren Jingyi.”

I extended my hand without hesitation.

Hei Mao reached up and removed the necklace he wore. He held it carefully, as though afraid even his grip might damage it. At its center rested a single golden scale, tinged faintly with red. It was warm, alive, and heavy with lingering will.

I could not apply the Six Paths to the Divine Word series. Divine Words drew directly from divinity, from the Divine Spark within me, not from borrowed paths or harmonized souls.

I spoke clearly.

“Divine Word: Raise.”

The scale trembled. A presence stirred.

I felt it, faint and familiar. The silhouette of a soul surfaced at the edge of perception, hesitant, as though unsure whether she was truly being called back.

I continued without pause.

“Divine Word: Life.”

Flesh followed soul.

I chained the spell with Blessed Regeneration, then pushed further, relentlessly invoking Cure, pouring quintessence into the process without restraint. The Hollow Star flared, feeding the miracle as I spent power freely, uncaring of the cost.

Light gathered.

From a single scale, a body bloomed.

A mature woman emerged, kneeling on the ground as though waking from a long sleep. Her hair was golden, the tips dyed naturally red, like embers kissed by flame. She inhaled sharply, eyes fluttering open in confusion.

I smiled and patted her head.

“Oh my,” I said lightly, “the little goldfish has grown quite well.”

Ren Jingyi froze as she realized her state.

Her face turned a furious shade of red as she yelped, “M-master! Don’t be weird!” She crossed her arms hastily over herself, trying and failing to preserve dignity.

Hei Mao reacted instantly. Quintessence rippled from his hand, shaped by creation. A silver robe with fine golden accents formed around Ren Jingyi, settling over her body like it had always belonged there.

She let out a breath of relief.

Gu Jie chose that moment to speak again. “There’s one more,” she said, gesturing to her side. “Ren Zhe.”

A silver-haired child stepped forward.

The name struck me immediately.

I blinked, then exhaled slowly. “I remember him… or I guess, her?”

Memories surfaced vividly. During the battle when my Heaven Soul and Hell Soul confronted my counterpart, I had glimpsed a strange child amid the remnants of dragons and ruin.

Gu Jie nodded. “You did. And you must take Ren Zhe as your disciple.”

Ren Zhe looked up at me. “I want your help,” she said earnestly. “Please… bring my parents back.”

Her hair darkened in an instant, silver fading to black as her form shifted. The girl became a boy. He straightened, forcing composure despite the tears gathering in his eyes.

“Your Holy Majesty,” he said, voice trembling, “I beg you.”

I knelt slightly so we were closer to eye level.

“Even if you weren’t my disciple,” I said gently, “I would still bring them back.”

Ren Zhe’s eyes lit up, hope breaking through grief as a radiant smile spread across his face.

I turned back to Gu Jie. “Why?”

She met my gaze without hesitation. “I foresaw it. Six disciples under you will reclaim the Hollowed World. They will lift those crushed by this war and set right what has been broken.”

I considered her words, then spoke softly. “After everything you’ve sacrificed to reach this point, you could become my disciple again.”

I had not witnessed her journey directly, but the memories of my Six Path Souls painted enough of the picture. I knew how much she had given up.

Gu Jie shook her head, smiling faintly.

“I’d love that,” she admitted, “but I already received the greatest blessing. I may not be your daughter by blood, but you are my father.”

I felt something tighten in my chest.

I chuckled quietly. “You’ve grown up,” I said. After a pause, I added, turning to the others. “But like the rest of you lot, you still have more growing up to do.”

Among the memories I had taken from the Seers and Mo Yu, I finally understood the full scale of the Heavenly Temple’s sins.

It was not merely tyranny or ambition. It was methodical, institutionalized atrocity. Entire bloodlines erased for experiments. Futures stolen and repurposed. Children reduced to materials. Faith twisted into a weapon. Wisdom hollowed out and replaced with monopoly and fear.

I felt anger, yes… But more than that, I felt responsibility.

If I now possessed the power to undo even a fraction of this, then refusing to try would make me complicit.

“I want to bring them back,” I said quietly.

The underground chamber fell silent.

“All who perished during the war against the Heavenly Temple,” I continued. “Not selectively. Not symbolically. I mean all of them.”

Several breaths passed.

I knew what I was proposing.

It was unthinkable.

Even during the Civil War, when I resurrected tens of thousands, I had relied on two crutches: the Hollow Star’s near-infinite quintessence, and the faith generated through Immortal Art: Divine Appointment of the Faithful. That had been difficult enough.

This time, I was speaking of a world’s worth of the dead.

Yet after experiencing Mo Yu’s Six Path mastery and understanding how he unified causality, soul, and destiny. I believed it was possible.

I looked at those gathered before me.

“To do this,” I said, “I need faith. Not abstract belief, but living anchors and beacons capable of resonating across the world. I need you.”

I called their names, one by one.

“Lu Gao. Ren Jingyi. Hei Mao. Yuen Fu. Ding Cai. Ren Zhe.”

They straightened instinctively.

“I need you to act as pillars of faith,” I said. “If I face my counterpart without sufficient faith, I will lose. There will be no second chance.”

I did not soften the truth.

“This task will feel impossible. You will doubt yourselves. When that happens, do not believe in your own strength. Instead, believe in me, who believes in you.”

Yuen Fu hesitated, then raised his hand slightly.

“Senior… no—Master,” he corrected himself, then continued with a strained smile. “How exactly am I supposed to help? I’ve lost my cultivation. I’m basically a mortal.”

He was not only asking for himself.

Ren Jingyi had lost much of her power through Exalted Renewal and her resurrection. Ding Cai’s potential was terrifying, but her current strength was fragile. Ren Zhe possessed something ancient and strange, yet lacked techniques, refinement, and control.

Their weaknesses were obvious.

So were mine.

“I know,” I said simply.

I stepped forward and straightened my posture, letting divinity bleed into my presence. This was not a command. It was a vow.

“From this moment onward,” I declared, “I will accept no more disciples.”

They looked at me in shock.

“The six of you are my eminent disciples,” I continued. “Each of you represents a path I strive to walk, understand, cultivate, and embody.”

I met their eyes, one after another.

“This is not an honor,” I said. “It is the greatest burden I can impose. You exist not to glorify me, but to surpass me, to correct me, to anchor me, and to ensure that I do not lose myself as I walk this road.”

The chamber was utterly silent.

“My disciples,” I said at last, “do you accept this burden?”

It took them only a heartbeat, before they answered in unison.

“Yes.”

I drew a slow breath and let my gaze rest on each of them in turn. This was not a battlefield proclamation, nor a ritual meant for the heavens to witness. These words were for them alone… and for myself.

I began with Lu Gao.

“Lu Gao,” I said, my voice steady, “my Hell Paladin, and now my first disciple.”

He straightened at once, as if instinctively bracing himself for pain rather than praise.

“Your strength has never been found in glory,” I continued, “but in sacrifice. In your willingness to shoulder my burden even when there is no reward waiting for you at the end of the road. That is a strength I both admire and acknowledge.”

I met his eyes.

“And because of that, I must task you with the most difficult path of all.”

I raised my hand slightly, as if weighing the world itself.

“Travel the world. Rally our forces. Gather the remnants of Asura Soul’s coalition—the Guardians who still stand, the scattered cultivators of the Martial Alliance, the Federation’s assembled forces from smaller nations, the Union’s dissenters and those who once stood against Mo Yu. Seek out every like-minded soul willing to resist this age of tyranny.”

His jaw tightened, but he did not interrupt.

“Now,” I said, “I bestow upon you my Hell Soul. With it comes strength born from the Source itself… and the power you will need to complete this task.”

I felt the transfer resonate, deep and heavy, like a door opening beneath the earth.

Then I turned to Ren Jingyi.

“Ren Jingyi,” I said softly, unable to keep a faint smile from my voice, “my little goldfish and now my second disciple.”

Her shoulders stiffened, her ears burning red.

“Your optimism shines brighter than you realize,” I continued. “Your eagerness to fight for what is right is a light that reaches into the darkness of others’ hearts and reminds them they are not alone.”

I let my tone grow serious.

“The danger ahead will not be yours to bear alone. Da Ji, my sister, and Chen Wei, my nephew, will accompany you to New Willow… or what remains of it. Take back the symbol of faith, so the Great Guard may rise once more.”

I placed a hand over my heart.

“Lift your head high. There is no need to fear. I will always be by your side.”

Power flowed outward, warm and instinctual.

“I bestow upon you my Animal Soul.”

She swallowed hard, eyes shining, and nodded without a word.

My gaze shifted next to Hei Mao.

“Hei Mao,” I said, “my little ghost and now my third disciple.”

He gave a crooked grin, but I did not return it.

“You will be busy,” I warned. “You are the strongest among my disciples, and yet that strength may become your greatest danger. Remember this well, you are not invincible.”

I stepped closer.

“The task before you will not merely be difficult. It will be deadly.”

His expression sharpened.

“Liang Na will accompany you. With her power and worldly knowledge, she will prove an invaluable ally. Hear your charge, destroy the Union to its roots and pluck the Heavenly Temple at there leaves until they no longer shade. Etch fear into their bones and spirits if you must.”

I did not flinch as I continued.

“And you will search for the Heavenly Master. A day will come when you can reclaim your sister’s body, but do not be impatient. Gather the remnants of the Night Blades and the Shadow Clan. Rebuild the intelligence network if you must.”

I paused, then finished quietly.

“I bestow upon you my Ghost Soul.”

Shadow and resonance answered as the bond sealed.

I turned to Yuen Fu.

“Yuen Fu,” I said, my voice gentler than before, “my loyal soldier and now my fourth disciple.”

He stood at attention out of habit, though his body no longer carried the strength it once had.

“You are strongest when you are willing to hurt yourself for the sake of others,” I said. “And every time, it pains me to see. Yet this is the path you chose, and to dismiss your conviction would be the greatest disrespect I could offer.”

I exhaled slowly.

“I do not expect you to win every battle. I only ask that you do what you believe is right, even if it means burning yourself away in the process.”

Then, firmly:

“But I beg you, return alive to me.”

His eyes trembled.

“Go to the Martial Alliance. No one will accompany you. But I bestow upon you my Heaven Soul. Become their hero, Yuen Fu… and then become the hero of others.”

Finally, I faced Ding Cai.

“Ding Cai,” I said, “my steadfast disciple and now my fifth.”

She lifted her chin, composed, and attentive.

“You are wise beyond your years. Your insight renders most special abilities meaningless by comparison. Though we have not known each other long, our bond is true, and the destiny we share has never burned brighter.”

I allowed myself a small smile.

“I am blessed to have a disciple like you.”

Then my voice hardened with gravity.

“Go to the Great Desert. Recover the tree that will decide the fate of this war. And more importantly, uncover the secrets of the Promised Dunes itself.”

I met her unwavering gaze.

“Wu Chen and your aunt Peng Ru will accompany you. You will feel lost. Frustrated. You will question yourself more times than you can count. But you must succeed for this task may decide whether I live or die.”

I raised my hand, letting the bond form.

“You will endure, because you are not only wise, but brave. Your soul has already learned to persist through emptiness.”

“I bestow upon you my Human Soul. Like your senior disciples, you may now draw power directly from me.”

The resonance settled.

I turned last to the child who carried two presences within one small body.

“Ren Zhe of the twin souls,” I said, letting my voice slow, grounding itself. “Child of the Dragon King Ren Xun and the Repentant Listener Lin Lim.”

Ren Zhe looked up at me, taking me seriously.

“From this moment on, you are my sixth disciple I accept you with all my heart. So there is no need to hold back, do you hear me?”

His lips parted, uncertain. I smiled faintly.

“Then listen well. Your parents were great. Greater than most legends dare to admit. Long ago, they stood against a demon powerful enough to destroy the world itself. They saved it.”

My voice softened.

“They perished… but fate was not finished with them. Many generations later, they reunited. They chose each other. They became lovers.”

I held his gaze steady.

“And then, against all reason, you were born.”

Neither of the twin souls spoke.

“A miracle,” I said quietly. “Of truly great magnitude.”

I straightened.

“Your task is simple and mercilessly difficult. Return to the Holy Empire, to the Riverfall Realm, where you were born and where your story began.”

Ren Zhe’s hands clenched.

“Ru Qiu will accompany you,” I continued. “His strength will be necessary. As of this moment, the Holy Empire is the most dangerous place in the world.”

I let the weight of my words settle.

“Build a resistance from within. Fight tooth and nail to survive. Bleed if you must, but do not fall. In time, you will find your way back to me, and when the day of the final battle comes, you will sound the horn of war.”

A faint, fierce smile tugged at my lips.

“And we will win.”

Power surged. It was wild, violent, and unrestrained.

“Now,” I said, “I bestow upon you my Asura Soul, the most ferocious of them all.”

Ren Zhe gasped as the resonance took hold. The air trembled, sharp and alive.

When it settled, I turned to the rest of them.

“Gu Jie,” I said, and she met my eyes without hesitation. “Jue Bu.”

They stepped forward as one.

“You will accompany me to the heart of the Heavenly Temple, the Promised Land.”

I did not dress the truth gently.

“Our mission will decide the fate of this world. Our presence there will serve as both distraction and defiance. We will stall them. We will wound them. We will refuse to let this world be remade in the Heavenly Temple’s image.”

My hand tightened at my side.

“This tragedy began with me,” I said. “So I will see it through.”

I looked at each of them from my disciples, my family, and my comrades.

“I have given you your paths. The time for preparation has ended.”

A slow breath.

“The time for labor is upon us.”

Quietly and honestly, I murmured.

“I pray for your victory. And when we meet again… may it be to finish what we began, and finally bring this long nightmare to its end.”