Immortal Paladin-Chapter 002 Nice Guy

002 Nice Guy

Back in the good old days of Lost Legends Online, I had my fair share of dealing with annoying fools. From NPCs programmed to act like arrogant young masters to players who thought trolling was an art form, I had seen it all. The ones who blocked dungeon doorways, lured mobs onto unsuspecting parties, or—my personal favorite—spammed trade requests in the middle of boss fights.

So, the question was, how should I handle this situation?

The answer? Smartly.

See, I was a nice guy. Not the kind who expected gratitude for basic decency, but the kind who knew when to keep his cool and not provoke idiots. And the Young Master Zhao standing before me? He was exactly the kind of idiot who needed careful handling.

Also, he was very, very drunk.

“Do you have rocks for eyes, peasant?!” Zhao slurred, his face contorted with exaggerated outrage. “Or did your mother drop you on your head as a child? That would explain a lot, hahaha!”

His courtesans giggled from the balcony above, fanning themselves as if watching a stage play.

“Maybe he’s mute?” one teased.

Zhao gasped, as if struck by divine revelation. “Ohhh, that makes so much sense! A dumb, blind, mute beggar who dares walk into my inn?!” He jabbed a finger at my chest—missing by a few inches. “You think those fancy robes make you someone important?!”

I blinked. Technically, I wasn’t even wearing my best gear.

He leaned in, breath reeking of stale wine. “You should be licking the dirt off my boots for the privilege of breathing the same air as me!”

Classic.

Still, I kept my expression neutral. I’d seen worse in online chat—this was nothing compared to the time a level 3 newbie accused me of ninja looting a sword I didn’t even pick up.

No need to stoop to Zhao’s level.

No need to lose my temper.

But that didn’t mean I wasn’t already calculating my next move.

Zhao was still ranting, words slurring further with each passing second. His face had taken on a distinct reddish hue, his breath practically flammable from all the alcohol.

It was time to end this before he did something regrettable.

I let my expression soften—calm, unreadable. Then, in a voice just friendly enough to throw him off, I inclined my head slightly.

“My sincerest apologies, Young Master Zhao,” I said, my tone smooth and measured. “It was never my intention to offend.”

The gathered spectators, who had clearly been hoping for a brawl, deflated in disappointment. The courtesans above tilted their heads in confusion. Zhao himself blinked, caught off guard by the lack of resistance.

I wasn’t groveling. I wasn’t defying him either. Just an expertly placed, neutral apology—frustratingly difficult to escalate.

Then, with casual ease, I placed a hand on Zhao’s shoulder, my grip light but deliberate. “It seems the wine has been unkind to you, Young Master,” I murmured, shaking my head in mock concern. “Perhaps you should rest. Exhausting yourself before the festival would be unfortunate.”

As I spoke, I pulled him in slightly, as if sharing a friendly confidence. And while doing so, I activated one of my less favored skills—

Divine Word: Rest.

A faint golden light shimmered for barely a second before fading—subtle, unnoticed. Zhao’s eyelids drooped. His posture wavered. And then—

Thud.

He crumpled to his knees, eyes rolling back as unconsciousness claimed him.

His steward, a round-faced man, let out a strangled gasp. “Young Master Zhao!”

Before Zhao could hit the floor face-first, I caught him by the arm and smoothly handed him over. “The Young Master may have overindulged,” I said mildly. “It would be best to see him to a proper bed.”

The steward hesitated before nodding quickly. “Y-Yes! Of course! Many thanks, honored guest!”

And just like that, the situation was resolved—no fight, no unnecessary drama, and most importantly, no need to make an enemy of a drunken noble with a fragile ego.

I stepped out of the inn, inhaling deeply as the cool night air replaced the cloying stench of stale ale and self-important entitlement.

Barely a day in this world, and I’d already gotten into a confrontation. Was that a record? If this world followed Lost Legends Online logic, I was probably halfway to triggering a major questline already.

Still, there was no use dwelling on it. Young Master Zhao was dealt with, and I had more pressing matters—like figuring out how to survive in this unfamiliar world.

With that in mind, I strolled through the city, taking in my surroundings.

Despite the late hour, Yellow Dragon City was far from asleep. The streets were alive with subdued energy, like embers glowing softly in the dark. Everywhere, people worked tirelessly, exhaustion hanging from their shoulders like a heavy cloak, yet they pressed on. The festival was tomorrow, after all.

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Banners of deep gold and crimson hung from wooden beams, their embroidered calligraphy swirling in elegant strokes—likely blessings for prosperity and fortune. Silk streamers fluttered lazily in the breeze, strung with tiny lanterns that cast a warm glow over the stone-paved streets.

Vendors and craftsmen worked late into the night, setting up their stalls. Some adjusted wooden signboards, their bold ink still fresh, while others carefully arranged colorful trinkets, incense, and embroidered fabrics, hoping to catch the eye of tomorrow’s crowds.

From a nearby alley, I overheard an old merchant haggling with a carpenter.

“I don’t care if you used the finest lumber from the Western Province, Old Liu! This thing still wobbles!”

“Hah! Wobbles, my foot! That’s just the wind! My craftsmanship is flawless! You want to sell your sugar figurines tomorrow or not? Pay up!”

Further ahead, a group of women—tea house workers, maybe—whispered excitedly.

“I heard the governor himself will attend the festival this year.”

“Really? And they say Young Master Lu of the Seven Grand Clans will be there too!”

“Oh, imagine if we caught his eye…”

A group of children dashed past me, waving small wooden swords as they re-enacted their favorite heroic tales.

“Tomorrow, I’m going to the dueling stage!” one of them boasted. “I bet the warriors will be so strong!”

“I heard a single strike from a top-tier cultivator can split the ground open!” another added, swinging his toy sword with dramatic flair.

I smirked slightly. Kids and their wild imaginations.

But the more I listened, the more the pieces of this world fell into place. This was a city steeped in tradition, alive with purpose, and brimming with anticipation for the days ahead.

Tomorrow would be a big day.

For the city.

And for me.

I stood atop the highest point in Yellow Dragon City, overlooking the countless motes of light scattered below like fallen stars. Lanterns flickered in the night breeze, tracing the winding streets where merchants and artisans toiled in preparation. From up here, the chaos of the city felt distant—mere echoes carried by the wind.

It was a hell of a view.

But I wasn’t here to admire the scenery.

I still had no idea how to exchange my gold for this world’s local currency. But at least I didn’t need food or sleep. It was one of the perks of being Level 275—the max level in Lost Legends Online. In the game’s lore, surpassing Level 250 meant reaching demi-god status, no longer bound by mortal constraints. Rest and sustenance were little more than formalities or mild inconvenience.

At least that’s a silver lining.

I wasn’t sure how long I could go without eating or sleeping, but for now, it wasn’t a priority.

Instead, I focused on something else.

My body.

I flexed my fingers, curling and uncurling them, feeling the raw power thrumming beneath my skin. My movements weren’t just enhanced—they were unnaturally refined. It wasn’t just strength or speed. It was instinct.

Not mine.

My character’s.

I knew how to move, how to fight, how to wield a sword as if it were an extension of my body. Every action was effortless, ingrained like muscle memory I never actually developed.

Was this some kind of simulated instinct carried over from the game? Or was it magic?

Either way, it made me dangerous.

Time to put it to the test.

I took a breath, crouched slightly—

And jumped.

I soared through the air, clearing the rooftop gap with ease. The moment my feet touched down, I rolled smoothly, momentum carrying me into another leap.

It feels natural.

I had never done parkour in my life, yet my body moved with effortless precision, as if it had always known how.

My Dexterity stat was never my highest, I mused, landing on another rooftop. But even then, it was still superhuman.

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Jumping across rooftops, I gradually made my way south, where the city’s buildings thinned out. After a few minutes, I found myself in a desolate park on the outskirts of Yellow Dragon City. Overgrown stone pathways wound between patches of wild grass, and a few gnarled trees stood like silent sentinels beneath the night sky.

Here, I could test my limits without interruption.

But first—a precaution.

Divine Sense!

I activated Divine Sense, one of my detection skills. In the game, it typically manifested as red dots on the mini-map, highlighting hostiles. The flavor text claimed it was especially potent against celestials, fiends, and undead, sometimes even revealing their intentions.

I closed my eyes, letting the skill expand outward.

…Nothing.

No hostile presence. No lurking assassins. No demonic ambush waiting in the shadows.

Good.

That meant I could begin.

A smirk tugged at my lips as I stretched my limbs, anticipation thrumming through me.

Time to see just how strong I really was.

My appearance in this world had been strange, to say the least. One moment, my Personal Computer exploded, and the next, I was free-falling through the sky. No warning. No dramatic transition. Just a sudden drop from the heavens with a spectacular view of the landscape below and absolutely no control over my descent.

Then came the burning.

It wasn’t normal fire, either. No heat, no pain—just a golden blaze engulfing my body like I was some kind of meteor crashing toward the earth. My entire being pulsed with energy, my vision flickering with divine radiance. It should have been terrifying. It should have hurt. But instead, it felt… right.

Like it was supposed to happen.

By the time I hit the ground, I had torn through a thick canopy of trees and left a decent-sized crater in the middle of a forest. The impact had barely fazed me. No broken bones, no injuries—just a faint, lingering warmth from whatever magic had coated me mid-fall.

I had no time to sit there and contemplate my existence, though. The forest was teeming with life, and not the friendly kind. I sensed them before I even saw them—monstrous creatures lurking between the trees, watching, waiting. Their bloodlust was palpable, an almost tangible weight pressing against my senses.

Probably this world’s equivalent of dungeon mobs.

My instincts had kicked in immediately. I needed to move. Staying put in the middle of unknown territory while surrounded by hostiles wasn’t exactly an ideal scenario. Civilization was my best bet, and I had no intention of getting into unnecessary fights before I understood my own situation. So I had taken off, weaving through the dense foliage with an ease that wasn’t entirely mine. My body just… knew how to move. How to balance, how to react, how to adjust.

And I was fast. Faster than I had ever been in the game.

It didn’t take long before I caught sight of a dirt road, and from there, I followed the path until I found Yellow Dragon City. No time to test my strength. No time to see just how powerful I had become. Just a mad dash toward civilization while creatures skulked at the edge of my senses, reluctant to give chase but watching all the same.

But now—now, I had time.

I exhaled slowly, letting the night air cool my lungs. The park was quiet, isolated, the perfect place to put my abilities to the test. I flexed my fingers, rolling my shoulders as I scanned my surroundings.

A large boulder sat nestled between two gnarled trees a few meters away. Weathered, solid, probably weighing several tons.

I approached it, placing a hand against its rough surface. It felt real. Solid. Heavy. No game physics here—no conveniently breakable terrain designed for player interaction. Just raw, unyielding stone.

I raised my hand and extended a single finger.

A simple stab. That was all I did.

My fingertip met the rock—and passed through it like it was made of wet clay.

For a split second, I felt resistance. Barely. And then the boulder split apart, a clean, precise hole piercing straight through its center. A heartbeat later, the entire thing cracked, fractures spreading like spiderwebs before it collapsed into a heap of shattered stone.

I stared at it.

Huh.

I hadn’t even used a skill. No buffs. No stat enhancements. Just a casual movement, and the rock gave way like it was nothing.

I clenched my fist, feeling the power thrumming beneath my skin.

Yeah. I was strong.

But just how strong?