[POV: Ding Cai]
While the Greater Universe referred to the six vast realms ruled by Supreme Beings, a Lesser Universe referred to the countless small worlds that remained ignorant of the powers existing beyond their skies. They drifted through existence like isolated planets, unaware that unimaginable civilizations, immortal dynasties, and divine entities watched from far beyond their comprehension.
Ding Cai was not an idiot.
The moment she learned about the bounty hanging over her master's head, she understood what would happen next. People would investigate every connection he possessed. His allies, his disciples, his acquaintances, and even the places he had once visited would become targets. It was only a matter of time before someone traced a path back to her.
That realization was what brought her to this uninitiated world.
Compared to the Greater Universe, this place was pitifully weak. The strongest cultivator on the entire planet had only reached the Seventh Realm, Bloodline Refinement. Such a level would not even qualify someone to stand guard outside the gates of a major sect in the Greater Human Realm.
Before her arrival, this world had never witnessed true greatness.
Upon descending into this realm, the first thing Ding Cai did was spread a formation across the entire world. Countless invisible strands of qi descended from the heavens and buried themselves into the land, oceans, mountains, and skies. The formation concealed the world from prying eyes and obscured its existence from conventional methods of divination.
Only after ensuring its safety did she begin her next task.
She challenged every notable cultivator she could find.
Kings, sect masters, wandering experts, hidden elders, and self-proclaimed invincibles all came to test her. Every single one lost. Yet instead of humiliating them, she imparted knowledge after each victory. She explained flaws in their cultivation, corrected ancient misunderstandings, and revealed truths they had spent entire lifetimes pursuing.
Strength earned their respect.
Knowledge earned their devotion.
Charisma earned their loyalty.
Within a few years, Ding Cai had established the Fortress of Enlightenment.
It became a sacred gathering place for cultivators seeking guidance from the mysterious Holy Maiden. The price of entry was simple. They must sever themselves from worldly affairs and abandon secular ambitions. Furthermore, should the Holy Maiden call upon them in the future, they must answer without hesitation.
Many considered the conditions harsh.
Still, there were those who considered them a blessing.
Today, thousands had gathered before her.
"Holy Maiden!"
"Holy Maiden!"
"We pay our respects to the Holy Maiden!"
"May the Holy Maiden illuminate our path!"
"The Fortress stands eternal!"
Rows upon rows of disciples knelt upon the stone plaza. Their foreheads touched the ground as they offered their reverence.
Ding Cai sat upon an elevated platform, lazily smoking her pipe.
The scene before her was quite pleasant.
Her master would likely come retrieve her eventually. After all, once he finished whatever ridiculous ordeal he was currently experiencing, he would undoubtedly gather his disciples again. There was little reason for her to accumulate wealth or resources when she could simply wait, considering the current circumstance.
The problem was that waiting was boring.
Conventional cultivation hardly benefited her anymore. Compared to the realm she occupied, the energy available in this world was insignificant.
Since cultivating was inefficient, she decided to invest her time elsewhere.
She would cultivate warriors.
Not ordinary cultivators.
Paladins.
Future soldiers who could one day stand beside her master.
Ding Cai took a slow drag from her pipe and exhaled.
Blue smoke drifted from her lips. The smoke was composed entirely of refined qi, transforming into floating clouds that shimmered beneath the sunlight.
The disciples watched with rapt attention.
A simple breath from the Holy Maiden appeared miraculous.
"Today," Ding Cai announced, her voice echoing across the plaza, "I shall demonstrate the Holy Emperor's Smite Series."
The crowd immediately erupted into excitement.
Ding Cai casually twirled the pipe between her fingers.
"The Smite Series is a profound martial and sorcerous doctrine created through the power of belief. It may become a striking technique, a slashing technique, a crushing technique, a stabbing technique, a strangling technique, an exorcising technique, or whatever technique your imagination permits."
She pointed her pipe toward the heavens.
"As long as your conviction is sufficient, the Smite Series shall answer."
The reactions rippled across the crowd in a wave of bewilderment and revelation. Many blinked in stunned silence, several furrowed their brows in evident confusion, and a fortunate few lit up with sudden enlightenment, their eyes gleaming with newfound understanding. Yet Ding Cai ignored all of them, her gaze steady and unwavering as she pressed onward without a flicker of concern for their scattered responses.
"The orthodox forms consist of four branches."
A golden flame erupted around her pipe.
"Searing Smite."
The flames stretched across the sky like a blazing river.
A thunderous roar followed.
"Thunderous Smite."
Violet lightning exploded from the heavens, illuminating half the world.
The flames and lightning vanished.
A brilliant radiance emerged next.
"Holy Smite."
Warm light descended upon the audience. Wounds healed. Fatigue vanished. Even old injuries accumulated over decades began to fade.
Finally, her expression became solemn.
"Divine Smite."
The world froze. Every movement in the Smite Series that Ding Cai had just performed sprang from her own unique interpretations; performed by a different disciple or even her master, the techniques would have looked entirely different.
Ding Cai moved. Her pipe blurred into motion as she struck, slashed, crushed, stabbed, swept, and twisted, each action flowing seamlessly into the next. Fire, lightning, radiance, and divine authority swirled around her figure. The techniques appeared simple on the surface, yet every motion contained truths far beyond mortal understanding.
The disciples watched with wide eyes, many failing to grasp what they were witnessing, while others slipped instantly into states of enlightenment. When the display finally concluded, a profound silence settled over the plaza.
Ding Cai casually returned her pipe to her lips.
"In three months," she declared, "anyone capable of successfully performing even one Smite shall be accepted as an official member of the Fortress of Enlightenment."
The announcement shocked everyone.
The requirement was brutal.
Most people present had already spent over a year inside the Fortress. During that time, Ding Cai taught them philosophy rather than techniques. They studied the principles of the Great Guard, learned the perspective of a Paladin, and forged their minds through relentless discipline.
Life within the Fortress resembled monastic training. The disciples awoke before dawn, trained until midnight, and spent their days meditating, reflecting, learning, and suffering. Before entering, each had been required to abandon their previous cultivation paths entirely, many sacrificing decades of hard-won progress to start anew. It was a cruel process, and intentionally so. Ding Cai did not need ordinary geniuses; she needed individuals whose determination could endure despair. Only they could become true Paladins.
The ceremony concluded soon afterward. As the disciples dispersed, Ding Cai returned to her pavilion atop the mountain. She reclined lazily in a wooden chair, smoking her pipe as blue smoke drifted through the room.
For a moment, her thoughts wandered to her fellow disciples.
Each was likely preparing in their own way, some gathering strength, others accumulating resources, and several probably stirring up trouble somewhere. Yet all of them shared the same purpose: when their master finally needed them, they would answer the call without hesitation, no matter the cost.
A voice suddenly emerged from her pipe. “Don’t you think you’re being a little harsh?”
Ding Cai wasn’t surprised. The pipe had been speaking to her for years, though it usually preferred silence.
“What now?” she asked calmly, exhaling a thin stream of blue smoke.
The pipe let out a weary sigh. “You could have used your master’s Immortal Art. One wave of your hand, and you’d have thousands of Paladins by tomorrow. Why put these poor people through years of suffering?”
Ding Cai’s lips curled into a faint smile. “Because manufactured loyalty is fragile.”
She gazed toward the distant horizon, her expression softening. “Master’s art can create powerful soldiers, but it cannot create people who choose to walk that path themselves.”
The pipe fell silent for a moment, considering her words. “…That’s surprisingly reasonable.”
“Don’t sound so shocked,” Ding Cai replied with a soft chuckle.
“I was expecting something insane.”
She laughed quietly. “Then you’ve learned nothing from serving me all these years.”
The pipe let out a long, dramatic groan. “Unfortunately, that’s probably true.”
While Immortal Arts were unique and singular in nature, there were circumstances where they could be shared. Ding Cai's master possessed an Immortal Art that granted absolute authority over faith itself. Among its many applications, perhaps the most significant was its ability to create Paladins.
Through faith, Divine Sparks could be bestowed.
Through Divine Sparks, mortals could transcend their limitations.
Through transcendence, an army could be forged.
Theoretically, Ding Cai could create thousands.
However, in the end, she refused to look for the easy way out.
"Paladins are not difficult to make," Ding Cai said as she reclined in her chair, lazily smoking her pipe. "The difficult part is making worthy Paladins. I need elites, not fodder that wastes Master's divinity. If they require resurrection every other week because they can't survive their own battles, then they aren't worthy of carrying his legacy."
The pipe released an annoyed puff of smoke. “The Holy Emperor probably wouldn’t mind.”
Ding Cai rolled her eyes. “Of course you’d say that.”
The pipe grumbled something unintelligible. Its opinion was hardly surprising. After all, the true identity of her smoking pipe was rather special. Before Ding Cai and her fellow disciples had perished long ago, their master had left fragments of his soul with each of them. Through countless experiences, transformations, and strange interactions with the laws of existence, those fragments had evolved into entirely new entities. They were no longer merely pieces of their master, yet neither were they fully separate beings. They existed in a peculiar state somewhere in between.
In Ding Cai’s case, the soul fragment had become an existence capable of assuming any shape imaginable from weapon, armor, tool, furniture, or anything else she desired. Because of this versatility, she had named it Allshape.
The pipe snorted. “You make it sound impressive every time you explain it.”
“It is impressive,” Ding Cai replied.
“It's just so inefficient.”
“I don't know about that.”
The pipe groaned.
Ding Cai took another drag from the pipe and exhaled a ribbon of blue smoke, her expression growing sincere. “I want to lessen Master’s burden. I don’t want to add to it.” The teasing look vanished from her face. “If I can create warriors who don’t need him watching over them every moment, then the effort is worthwhile. If I can raise people capable of standing on their own feet, then Master won’t need to worry about them.” A small smile touched her lips. “He worries too much.”
The pipe chuckled. “You’re one to talk.”
Before Ding Cai could respond, a flicker of movement appeared at the edge of her senses. A white cat rounded the corner of the pavilion. The moment she saw it, her eyes narrowed. There were countless cats in the world. This was not one of them.
The cat calmly crossed the wooden floor and stopped several meters away. Ding Cai immediately recognized the aura. Her expression shifted into uncertainty.
“…Senior Brother?”
The white cat froze. Then it exploded into countless motes of white light. The lights swirled together, rapidly forming the figure of a young man with short dark hair, dark robes, and a familiar red scarf.
Hei Mao smiled. “I missed you too, Junior Sister.”
Ding Cai blinked. Then blinked again. “You…” Her eyes widened. “You look different.”
Hei Mao scratched his cheek awkwardly. “Yeah, well. A lot happened.”
"Where's Master?"
Hei Mao’s smile turned somewhat helpless. “Sorry, Master couldn’t come pick you up himself. He’s a bit—”
BOOM!
The floor beneath Ding Cai shattered. In an instant, she activated Flash Step, Zealot’s Stride, and Divine Speed simultaneously. Her figure blurred forward with terrifying velocity, blue smoke erupting behind her like a comet’s tail. Her pipe transformed into a divine weapon as a devastating Divine Smite descended.
Hei Mao’s eyes widened. “You little—”
Red lotus flowers bloomed beneath his feet. He vanished an instant before the strike obliterated the mountain behind him, along with the pavilion structure. A moment later, he reappeared behind Ding Cai, his red scarf shooting forward to wrap around her neck with effortless grace.
The blue smoke surrounding Ding Cai suddenly shifted. What appeared to be mere vapor was actually a swarm of tiny Mana Souls. She instantly activated Castling, exchanging her position with a microscopic dust particle floating nearby. The scarf caught nothing but empty air.
Hei Mao casually observed the drifting blue clouds, his expression turning nostalgic. “Blue clouds… That almost looked like Master’s Divine Myriad Nebula—”
“Shut it, you little shit,” Ding Cai snapped, pointing her pipe at him. “I’ll have you calling me Senior Sister from now on.”
Somewhere in the distance, another mountain exploded. Neither of them paid it any attention.
Ding Cai’s temper had grown considerably shorter during her years in the Greater Human Realm. In many ways, she had become alarmingly similar to their master, and that realization only made her angrier. Blue smoke spread across the sky as every dust particle became a medium, and every medium became a weapon.
“Heavenly Punishment.”
Countless miniature swords materialized, each compressed to the size of a needle rather than massive golden blades. Thousands. Tens of thousands. Hundreds of thousands. Every needle carried the full destructive power of Heavenly Punishment. The sky vanished beneath a storm of slashes. The pavilion disintegrated instantly. The mountain peak collapsed, carving an enormous trench into the earth as dust clouds billowed for hundreds of kilometers.
When the destruction finally settled, Ding Cai stood at the edge of a massive crater. Above it floated Hei Mao, completely untouched, not a single strand of hair disturbed.
Ding Cai stared at him, then sighed. “Well, at least I made you use Ghost Path.”
Hei Mao rubbed his forehead. “This is just a projection.” He gestured toward himself. “Cast through my Yin Ghost Soul.”
Ding Cai considered this for a moment, then smiled cheerfully. The murderous intent vanished as though it had never existed. “I missed you too, Senior Brother.”
Hei Mao stared at her. “…You’re insane.”
“Master taught me questionable morals.”
“Fair point.”
His gaze suddenly drifted downward, lingering on the bandages wrapped tightly around Ding Cai’s chest. His expression turned strange. “That’s an unusual fashion choice.”
Ding Cai froze. A vein bulged on her forehead. “It is not a fashion choice.”
Hei Mao wisely took a step backward. “It kind of looks like one.”
“It isn’t.”
“Then why—”
“It’s not my fault, okay!?” Ding Cai’s face reddened as she pointed accusingly at her chest. “They keep getting bigger!”
Silence filled the ruined mountain. The wind blew gently across the crater. For several seconds, Hei Mao appeared completely frozen. Then he slowly looked away.
“Master definitely isn’t prepared for this conversation.”
Ding Cai immediately hurled her pipe at his face. The explosion that followed could be seen from another continent.
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