NABC 027 Divine Possession
027 Divine Possession
027 Divine Possession
Jia Yun was winning.
It wasn’t just a little advantage—she was decimating Fan Shi.
She was faster.
Stronger.
Her three tails whipped through the air as she weaved between attacks with inhuman grace, her fans sending out slicing arcs of wind and ice with every motion.
Fan Shi dodged by a hair’s breadth each time, but I could tell—she was struggling.
And it pissed me off.
I activated Voice Chat.
"Fan Shi, sidestep to the left, then pivot. She's aiming for your legs."
Fan Shi obeyed without hesitation, narrowly avoiding a crescent slash of wind that would’ve tripped her up.
"Now jump—she’s setting up for a follow-up strike."
She leaped just as an ice spear shot out from beneath her.
I exhaled.
My Perception, Wisdom, and Intelligence stats were putting in overtime for this one.
Reading into an enemy's attack pattern like this? I wouldn't have been able to do it in a normal PvP match back in Lost Legends Online. But here, where I could perceive Qi—really perceive it at superhuman levels—I saw more than just movements.
I saw flows.
Currents.
Subtle shifts in energy that revealed the intent behind an attack before it even happened.
Divine Sense had lots of flavor text in LLO.
One of them was being granted insight into an opponent’s techniques.
Of course, that never actually manifested as a game mechanic. It was just one of those immersion-boosting descriptions slapped onto a useless passive.
But here?
Here, as I got more used to observing and deducing Qi—its movements, its pulses, its reactions—Divine Sense had evolved into something real.
And what I was sensing from Pan Xia made me very suspicious.
I didn’t confront him.
Not yet.
Instead, I honed in on him.
There was an energy connection.
A solid, hidden thread linking him to Jia Yun.
The skill she was using—this Bloodline Art—either didn’t fully belong to her, or it required someone else for activation.
Could I be wrong? Maybe.
But I knew Pan Xia was supplying energy to her.
And it wasn’t Qi.
It wasn’t Mana, either.
It felt different.
In LLO, there were Ultimate Skills that players could never use even if they met the requirements.
Not because they lacked the proficiency.
Not because they lacked the stats.
But because sometimes—just sometimes—those skills required an energy cost that went beyond what a player could normally access unless they fulfilled the relevant quests.
Was this that kind of situation?
Before I could think about it further, I noticed Pan Xia looking at me.
An amused smile spread across his face.
“Is there a problem, Senior Da?” he asked smoothly. "If looks could kill, I would have died ten times over."
I rolled my shoulders. "That’s an exaggeration."
But my eyes stayed on him.
"That is a weird technique, though."
His expression didn’t change, but I saw the briefest flicker in his eyes.
A flinch.
He hid it well.
Don’t worry, Pan Xia. I wasn’t going to expose your cheating.
Yet.
Or maybe never? Because I was feeling... particularly vindictive today.
He smoothly redirected the conversation, playing dumb.
"You must be referring to what’s happening below, yes?" he said, gesturing to the fight. "Bloodline Arts are very rare, after all. The Nine-Tailed Fox Ascendance is a Secret Art—one that allows its caster to borrow power from an Immortal Beast."
Ah.
So it was like a Paladin or a Priest summoning a deity into their body.
Interesting.
And very convenient.
Back in Lost Legends Online, I never chose a deity to serve.
No gods. No patrons. No fancy blessings or divine sponsors.
That meant no Divine Descent, the strongest ability a Paladin could have.
And because of that, my damage potential suffered—badly.
For a good one or two seasons, I was stuck at the bottom of the rankings, grinding skill points while everyone else was popping off with their Divine Descent builds. I could’ve jumped ship, reset my skills, or even rerolled a new character.
But I didn’t.
Why?
Because I was waiting.
Patiently.
I had my eyes set on an upcoming class update for Paladins—one that would let me play exactly how I wanted to play.
You see, Lost Legends Online wasn’t exactly forgiving to old players. Resetting skill points was more painful than just deleting your character and starting from scratch. Most players did just that. But me? I persevered.
And then the update finally arrived.
The Divine Path of the Paladin Legacy.
And with it came a skill no one expected to be as stupidly broken as it was.
A skill called Divine Possession.
Now, when the devs started teasing it, most players ignored it outright.
A skill that halved your stats? In exchange for possessing another character—whether they were a Player, NPC, or even a random mob?
Yeah. Hard pass.
And then they made it worse.
If you learned Divine Possession, you were locked out of Divine Descent forever. No refunds. No take-backs. You were making a deal with the worst kind of devil—bad game design.
And what did you get for this trade?
A possessed character buffed with half your stats but at the cost of shared control.
Which meant the other guy could fight back while you were trying to use them.
Most players who tried it rage-quit on the spot.
But me?
I didn’t have much in the way of acting skills, but here goes nothing.
I couldn't exactly summon tears on command, but surely, I could at least pretend to be a brooding sage—not to be disturbed, lost in contemplation of the vast mysteries of the world.
With a slow, measured exhale, I lowered my gaze and angled my fan slightly to cast a shadow over my face. Mysterious. Enigmatic. Tragic. If anyone looked at me now, they’d think I was contemplating the weight of destiny itself.
But in reality?
I tapped into Voice Chat.
Inside Pan Xia’s head.
"What’s happening?! What did you do to me?!"
His panic hit me like a flood.
I took my time before responding, speaking with deliberate slowness. Measured. Patient. Like a celestial master gazing down upon the tribulations of a mere mortal struggling to comprehend the vastness of the heavens.
"Calm yourself, Daoist Pan," I murmured.
"Calm myself? CALM MYSELF?! I CAN’T MOVE! I CAN’T USE MY QI! I CAN’T—"
"Shhh."
"DON’T ‘SHHH’ ME—"
"Shhhhhh."
That shut him up.
"Good," I said, voice as tranquil as a still lake. "Now, listen well. What you are experiencing... is but a mere glimpse of the immensity of heaven and earth."
"What does that even mean?! Who are you?!"
"Who am I? Ah... That is a question many have asked. Few have received an answer."
"ANSWER ME, DAMN YOU!"
I let out a soft chuckle. Sage-like. Knowing. Infinitely patient.
"Daoist Pan, do you truly believe that the heavens revolve around you? That your struggles are unique? That you are beyond the reach of fate?"
"What are you—"
"Consider the sky above. It does not mourn when a storm is born, nor does it celebrate when the sun shines once more. It simply is—immovable, untouchable, unshaken by mortal concerns. The same is true of the great Dao."
A pause. A long, stunned pause.
It was eight-grader syndrome bullshit. Or maybe some dialogue script I overheard somewhere...
But meh...
I could practically hear the gears in his head grinding together, trying to decipher my words.
"What... what do you want from me?"
"Want? Ah, Daoist Pan... You assume much."
Silence again.
Then, cautiously, he asked, "Then why are you... in my mind?"
"Ah." I sighed wistfully. "Why does the wind blow? Why do the stars shine? Why does the river flow ceaselessly toward the sea?"
"THAT DOESN’T ANSWER ANYTHING!"
"Doesn’t it?"
Another silence.
I could feel the frustration. The despair. The helplessness.
Pan Xia was grasping at understanding—trying to ground himself in reality, only to find the ground had been pulled out from under him.
Good.
Let him stew. Let him question. Let him doubt.
I smiled faintly, outwardly maintaining my brooding sage act as I continued my silent monologue inside Pan Xia’s mind.
This was getting fun.
Too fun.
Fan Shi was barely hanging on by the skin of her teeth.
Jia Yun’s rampage had reached its peak—her movements were swift, her attacks relentless, her power overwhelming. Every time Fan Shi dodged, it was by the slimmest of margins. Every counterattack was met with force several times greater.
Yet, despite all that, Fan Shi endured.
Because 69 was far more capable than I had given him credit for.
I had fought opponents twenty levels above me before and barely managed to eke out a victory—but that was with items. That was with buffs, with potions, with some ridiculous game-breaking exploits that let me cheat the numbers.
This?
This was just raw skill.
And it was awesome.
I let out a quiet breath, keeping my posture still and composed—or rather, keeping Pan Xia’s posture still and composed. My mind, however, was racing. This was the first time I had seen Divine Possession work like this in real life.
If I had known it would be this effective, I would have used it sooner. I wanted to use it on Jiang Zhen as part of an experiment, but he suddenly forfeited.
I turned Pan Xia’s head, making sure his gaze locked onto my own body sitting across the way.
Pan Xia—or rather, the part of him still aware that something was wrong—was losing his mind.
“RELEASE ME! I AM A GRAND ELDER OF THE CLOUD MIST-”
"Shh." I silenced him through Voice Chat, my voice calm.
"Pan Xia," I continued, "I don’t like cheaters. I don’t like bullies. And I especially don’t like people who think they are above being fair."
His panic sharpened into pure terror.
"I don’t know what you’re talking about!" he tried to lie.
"You’re not stupid. You know exactly what I’m talking about."
He couldn’t respond.
"This will be my only warning to you. While your reputation remains intact, I suggest you no longer stray from the righteous path."
And with a thought—snap.
I severed the energy connection he had tied to Jia Yun.
Immediately, the transformation below unraveled.
Jia Yun’s body convulsed mid-attack. Her nine-tailed fox form flickered, the blue flames and icy mist dissipating in an instant. Her expression twisted in confusion, then horror.
Then, her body gave out.
With a dull thud, Jia Yun collapsed onto the arena floor, unconscious.
Fan Shi stood over her, victorious—but barely. Her body swayed slightly, her breathing ragged, but she remained on her feet.
And then—I left Pan Xia’s body.
I blinked, suddenly back in my own first-person perspective, my own hands resting where I had left them.
Across from me, Pan Xia sat frozen. His face had gone pale. His lips were slightly parted as if he wanted to say something—but no words came out.
Instead, he turned his head ever so slightly, glancing around, as if searching for something.
Good.
I had gone to great lengths to save him face.
Hopefully, he heard my warning loud and clear.
But knowing the xianxia genre...
I really couldn’t let my guard down.
Chances were, he didn’t even know it was me.
If he suspected, he’d never dare try to confirm it or confront me. If he did, it would probably be with the backing of his Sect—which I doubted he would have. After all, I basically had the backing of the Isolation Path Sect, though in name only.
That said, Pan Xia would also need solid evidence of what I just did.
There was no premise for him making trouble. No excuse.
Because everything that happened...
Happened in his mind.