Immortal Paladin

017 The Orthodox Unorthodoxy

017 The Orthodox Unorthodoxy

We left the venue, passing through the archway. The energy from the crowd still lingered in the air—cheers, laughter, and the occasional groan from sore losers who had bet their entire purse on the wrong contender.

Gu Jie clutched the fishbowl to her chest like it was some kind of sacred artifact. Ren Jingyi swam lazily inside, unfazed by the commotion of the festival.

"Master, where are you going?" Gu Jie asked, quickening her pace to match mine. "Shouldn’t we pick up your winnings?"

I sighed. "Apparently, I am not a very good gambler."

She tilted her head. "Eh? You lost?"

There was something amusing about her reaction, like she had truly expected me to win that bet. Did she think I was some kind of all-knowing sage? That was a dangerous assumption, but it wasn’t my fault if she continued to believe in it. As a paladin, it would be shameful to lie, but it wouldn’t be as long as you weren’t caught.

"I had a feeling Feng Yi would lose," I admitted. "Betting on the underdog feels like the right thing to do."

Gu Jie narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "Master... do you know you have a weird sense of humor?"

I ignored her question entirely. "The Isolation Path Sect," I said instead. "What can you tell me about them?"

She hesitated before responding. "Huh? Well... they’re known as the Orthodox Unorthodoxy. Unlike other righteous sects, their methods are—unconventional."

"Unconventional?"

She nodded. "They mainly use unorthodox weapons—chains, wheel blades, and other strange armaments. It’s said they’re a Sect of Demon Hunters, specializing in eliminating demonic beasts and demonic cultivators."

"Demon Hunters, huh? That explains the chains," I mused.

"But that’s not all," she added. "Rumor has it that they developed a technique that allows them to transpose demonic arts into non-demonic techniques."

That caught my attention. "Transposing demonic techniques?"

"Yes. They purify and rework them into something usable for righteous cultivators. But it’s just a rumor."

"Hmm... interesting." I turned my gaze forward, lost in thought.

"Master?"

"Do they have sensory techniques? And if so, how good are they?"@@@@

Gu Jie frowned. "None that I know of, Master. Why?"

"I see..." I crossed my arms. "That Fan Shi managed to see through a portion of my strength, you know?"

Gu Jie blinked. "...What?"

"Back during the welcoming ceremony," I explained, "she almost honed in on me among the masses of weaker cultivators and mortals." I glanced at Gu Jie, watching her reaction. "Isn’t that interesting?"

Her expression wavered for a moment before settling into something thoughtful. Then, she clutched the fishbowl a little tighter, as if Ren Jingyi could offer her some kind of divine revelation.

"Master..." she said carefully. "Just who are you?"

I smirked. "That’s a good question."

The festival streets were packed with people rushing between stalls, hawkers shouting over each other, and the occasional street performer drawing in a crowd. The mix of sizzling meats, freshly baked buns, and sweet roasted nuts filled the air, making my stomach growl in betrayal.

"Master, would you like to stop for a meal?" Gu Jie asked, glancing at me.

"Yeah," I admitted. "Let’s find an eatery."

It was a bad habit to talk while eating, but looking at Gu Jie, I just couldn’t help it. I frowned. She looked thinner than yesterday. It wasn’t obvious, and to a normal person’s eyes, nothing seemed different. But thanks to my Perception stat, I caught the minute changes—the slight hollowness in her cheeks, the almost imperceptible sluggishness in her movements, the way she carried herself with a forced sense of normalcy.

I put down my spoon. This isn’t normal.

"How’s your cultivation doing?" I asked.

"Terrible."

Blunt. Honest. Concerning.

I leaned back and narrowed my eyes. "There’s something you’re not telling me."

Gu Jie stiffened before lowering her head. "Apologies, Master. It is not my intention to hide anything from you."

"Yeah? Then explain this." I gestured at her, my voice coming out sharper than I intended. "You look worse than yesterday. How is that even possible?"

Gu Jie hesitated for a moment before sighing, as if accepting something inevitable. "The cultivation technique I practice—Delayed Destiny of the Demonic Path—is worsening my health. It allows me to regulate my Sixth Sense Misfortune bloodline ability, thus avoiding greater misfortunes that would have already killed me."

I didn’t like where this was going. "And the catch?"

"The side-effect of Delayed Destiny is a deteriorating body. In exchange for delaying my fate, my health declines. The original purpose of the technique was to misdirect misfortune to my foes by expending my qi, but..." She trailed off, fingers tightening around her chopsticks. "Since I fell to the First Realm, I can no longer use it properly. Instead of spending qi, I pay with my life force and health."

I exhaled slowly, rubbing my temple. "So what you're telling me is... even if I heal you, you’d eventually return to this miserable state?"

"Yes."

Damn.

So that was it.

That was why she latched onto me.

And so desperately.

Gu Jie wasn’t just following me out of gratitude. She wasn’t just looking for protection. She was looking for a solution. She was waiting for me to notice.

And that pissed me off.

Not because she wanted help—but because she never asked. Instead, she played this waiting game, hoping I’d eventually figure it out. What if I hadn’t? What if I ignored it?

I tapped my fingers against the table, trying to decide how I felt about this.

The problem wasn’t just healing her. Healing was easy. It was the after that was the issue. If her cultivation method kept dragging her back to square one, then fixing her wasn’t as simple as a quick mend. I’d have to find a way to break her cycle, or at least give her an alternative.

But how?

I picked up my spoon again, staring at the broth as if it held the answers. I’ll have to think about this.

For now, though...

I sighed. "You really should have told me sooner, Jie."

She flinched. "I—"

I raised a hand, cutting her off. "We’ll figure something out. But first, eat. You look like you need it more than me."

She blinked, looking at me with something I almost mistook for relief. Then, slowly, she picked up her chopsticks again.

I sighed again. This woman is a handful.