Immortal Druid

It had been a few weeks since I made my home in this forest. I had settled into a comfortable routine. Each morning I would wake up, stretch my limbs, and slip into Wild Shape. Flying through the canopy as a bird turned out to be the most exhilarating part. The wind rushing through my feathers, the vast green sea below me, it felt incredibly freeing.

Sometimes, I switched things up with other forms. A nimble squirrel racing along branches or a silent panther stalking through the undergrowth. While exploring, I diligently mapped the area inside my head, memorizing every stream, clearing, and ancient tree.

The forest was never quiet. Birds sang bright melodies overhead while monkeys chattered and whooped in the distance. “Krr-krr-krr!” a bright red parrot would call from high above. Smaller creatures rustled through the leaves with soft scuttling sounds, and occasionally a deep, throaty roar echoed from deeper in the woods, reminding me that not everything here was friendly.

By lunch I would return and join Xing Ning. I stuck to fruits and vegetables while he ate whatever he had managed to catch or forage. One day he proudly presented two wild chickens he had hunted.

“These look excellent, Xing Ning. You are getting better at this every day,” I said with genuine appreciation.

He beamed, chest puffed out with pride. “Thank you, Senior. I used the new snare technique you suggested and waited perfectly still for over an hour. They never saw me coming. I paid my respects to their spirits afterward, just as you taught me.”

In the first few days, I had been rather unintentionally harsh with the young man. He forced himself to eat only fruits and vegetables because he worried he might offend me by consuming meat in front of me.

As a Qi Condensation realm cultivator, Xing Ning was still essentially mortal and needed proper nutrients to stay strong.

When I learned how much he’d been restricting himself, I told him it was fine for him to eat meat. Out of respect for me, he asked me what could he do, so that it wouldn’t bother me. That was how I ended up telling him to respect the hunt, something that Nevle Drol Diurdhcra would’ve approved of.

After lunch, Xing Ning would teach me about cultivation using whatever knowledge his realm allowed him to share. With his patient guidance I slowly learned more about this strange new world. Through those lessons I discovered something unsettling. I was completely incapable of traditional cultivation. I had no energy gathered in my dantian and no spiritual root at all, something Xing Ning found extremely strange and almost unheard of.

In exchange for his lectures, I helped him with his training through sparring sessions or whatever advice I felt confident giving. I was careful to only offer suggestions based on my own observations or game knowledge from my old life. After all, I was not a cultivator myself. I could only guide him as a supportive senior with a different perspective.

By night we would share another simple meal, exchange a few stories, and then drift off to sleep inside the living tree house. The gentle sway of the branches and the soft chorus of nocturnal insects created the perfect lullaby.

For the first time in both my lives, I felt a deep sense of peace and belonging.

This world wasn’t so bad, after all.

…

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[POV: Xing Ning]

Like his senior, Xing Ning had also settled into a comfortable routine over the past few weeks. Each morning he rose early and moved through the forms of the Tempest Steel Sword Art beneath the dappled sunlight filtering through the canopy. His blade danced in precise arcs, cutting through imaginary foes while the forest watched in quiet approval. Before lunch he would venture out on a hunt, moving silently through the undergrowth with his senses extended.

One clear morning he brought down a sturdy boar with a single clean thrust. He knelt beside the fallen animal, blood still warm on his sword, and spoke softly with sincere respect.

“Thank you for your life, noble boar. Your strength will nourish me, and I will not waste this gift. May your spirit find peace in the cycle of the forest.”

He cleaned his sword with careful strokes, mindful of the boar’s sacrifice. He had promised Senior he would pay proper respect to every hunt, and he intended to keep that promise without fail.

By afternoon, he would exchange pointers with Senior. Those sessions had quickly become the highlight of his day. Senior never taught traditional cultivation techniques. Instead, he offered something far more practical and unsettling in its simplicity.

“Combat is not about being stronger or faster,” Senior explained one afternoon as they sparred in a small clearing. “It is about doing the thing your opponent does not want you to do. If he expects you to strike high, go low. If he braces for power, give him speed and angles instead. Make him react to you, never the other way around.”

Xing Ning wiped sweat from his brow and nodded thoughtfully. “But Senior, what if the opponent is simply much stronger? Does technique even matter then?”

Senior smiled faintly and tapped his staff on the ground. A thick vine suddenly whipped out and tangled Xing Ning’s ankle, pulling him off balance.

“Even the strongest opponent has limits,” Senior replied calmly while Xing Ning struggled to regain his footing. “Your job is to find those limits and make them hurt. Power without direction is just noise.”

Every day felt both familiar and refreshingly different from life back at the sect. If Xing Ning had to be honest with himself, he might really appreciated the freedom here. He could train however he wished, hunt when he wanted, and speak openly with a senior who answered questions without judgment or hidden motives. The thought made him feel a twinge of guilt. Senior had been so accommodating, even allowing him to eat meat in his presence. It was not unheard of for cultivators to abstain from meat if it tied into their cultivation. Some sects even forbade relationships or other pleasures entirely. Yet Senior never made him feel ashamed for his needs.

When night arrived, Xing Ning still had plenty of boar meat left from the morning hunt, so he did not need to venture out again. He sat by the crackling campfire and watched Senior work his magic. With gentle gestures and murmured words, Senior shaped living wood into smooth pieces, forming what looked like a board and carved figures.

It always amazed Xing Ning how effortlessly Senior commanded plant life, as though the trees and vines were simply extensions of his own body.

After finishing his meal, Xing Ning cleaned up after himself and set the remains aside with care. Senior looked up from his work with a small, curious smile.

“Ever played chess?” Senior asked.

Xing Ning tilted his head. He understood that Senior was shaping some form of board game. He knew of chess, though the version Senior described sounded quite different from the strategy games he had learned in the sect.

They played well into the night.

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A few more days passed. I woke up, stretched my limbs, and cast Cleanse Spirits over myself. According to the flavor text, the spell removed grime and dirt along with any spiritual impurities, making it an incredibly convenient self-cleaning trick.

I glanced around the tree house and saw Xing Ning already practicing his martial art forms in the open space below. According to him, it would take a few months before anyone from his sect came looking, so it seemed he would be staying with me for a while longer.

This life felt honestly fun and fulfilling. Over the past weeks I had managed to befriend several wild animals. While roaming the forest in Wild Shape, I came across creatures that genuinely needed help. Yes, it went against my earlier words about letting the circle of life run its course.

Still, it felt too cruel to ignore a sloth pinned under a fallen tree or a baby elephant trapped in a muddy ditch. How an elephant had ended up deep in this forest remained a mystery, but I helped when I could, as long as it did not disrupt the natural balance between predator and prey.

In return, the animals began bringing me gifts. Or rather, tributes. Each morning I found piles of fresh fruits, shiny stones, and odd trinkets stacked neatly at the base of the great tree. It kept me pleasantly busy. I used phytokinesis to open a wide entrance in the trunk and carried everything into the spacious storage rooms I had grown inside the tree.

The tree itself had expanded dramatically since I first built the tree house. Druid magic had made it supernaturally sturdy, allowing me to shape sturdy internal chambers and even a spiral staircase that wound upward through the living wood.

After several trips up and down, I finished storing the tributes. Most were edible fruits and nuts, while others were curious knickknacks such as unusual pieces of bark, strangely shaped metal fragments, and colorful feathers. I stepped out onto the wide platform at the trunk entrance and took a deep breath of fresh morning air.

Of course, not everything was peaceful.

A tiger suddenly burst from the foliage behind me, clearly intent on making me its next meal. I snatched my staff from beside the doorway and swung it in a smooth arc, punting the big cat through the air.

The tiger let out a high-pitched wail as he tumbled. “Mraaaaawww! Mreeeeowww!” He landed awkwardly on his feet and bolted away with his tail tucked between his legs like a frightened kitten. “I’m gonna tell on you, MOMMY!”

I cupped my hands around my mouth and shouted after him. “And never come back again!”

This kind of thing had become a recent trend. More and more beasts in the wild seemed determined to pick a fight with me. At first, I thought it was random bad luck, but the incidents kept increasing. Whether it was ambitious tigers, overly confident boars, or even the occasional overeager monkey, they all came charging in with surprising aggression.

I wondered what was stirring them up. Perhaps my growing presence in the forest was beginning to disturb the local power balance, or maybe something else entirely was at play.

Soon enough, I got my answer.

Roo the kangaroo burst out of the undergrowth with his usual boundless energy, chest puffed out and tail thumping proudly against the ground. Xing Ning had gone out to continue his training somewhere else, so I stood alone on the wide platform of the tree house. The kangaroo struck a dramatic fighting pose, muscular arms raised high.

“YEEHOO~! I, ROO, HAVE COME TO CHALLENGE YOU IN BATTLE ONCE MORE TO PROVE MY WAY OF THE BOUND SKY STRIDER IS THE ULTIMATE MARTIAL ART!”

I sighed and leaned on my staff. “You dang kangaroo, you don’t have to prove anything to me, okay? Just go away.”

Roo’s eyes widened in outrage. “LIES! I HAVE EVERYTHING TO PROVE! I’VE SHARED MANY A TALE OF OUR GREAT BATTLE AND NOW THE FOREST KNOWS OF YOUR MIGHT! I SHALL CONTINUE TO CHALLENGE YOU UNTIL I PROVE MY MARTIAL ARTS ARE THE STRONGEST!”

What the hell was wrong with this kangaroo?

I narrowed my eyes, a sinking suspicion forming. “Share many a tale? You mean you’ve been talking around the forest about me?”

Roo postured proudly, flexing his biceps with theatrical flair. “YES! MY FRIENDS AND RIVALS HAVE TAKEN GREAT INTEREST IN THE GREAT STICKMAN WHO FELLED THIS MIGHTY BEAST—”

That was all I needed to hear. This overly enthusiastic marsupial had basically been sending assassins my way by bragging about our “epic duel.” It wasn’t funny anymore.

I raised my staff and calmly cast the spell. “Entanglement.”

Thick, flexible roots erupted from the ground and wrapped around Roo’s legs, torso, and powerful tail, lifting him slightly into the air in a firm but harmless cocoon. Before he could start his usual colorful tirade, I stepped forward and delivered a few solid, measured whacks across his backside with the staff.

“Ow! Hey! OW! You cheating tree-hugger! This isn’t how a proper duel works! My fists demand justice! Release me so I can—OW!”

I kept the beating light enough not to cause real injury, but firm enough to make my point. After a dozen or so whacks, I stopped and crossed my arms.

“Listen here, Roo. If you keep spreading stories about me and sending every ambitious beast in the forest to test themselves against the ‘great stickman,’ I’m going to tie you up and leave you hanging from the highest branch for a week. Understood?”

Roo dangled there, still struggling half-heartedly, his voice a mix of indignation and reluctant respect. “You… you are a harsh teacher, silver-haired stick guy! But a true martial artist never backs down! Though… maybe I can tell them you are unbeatable and they should train harder first…”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Just stop sending challengers. Go train somewhere else and leave me in peace.”

With a final warning glare, I released the roots. Roo dropped to the ground, rubbed his sore rear, and hopped away while muttering dramatic vows about future rematches and the glory of the Way of the Bound Sky Strider. His voice gradually faded into the distance, still full of boundless energy.

I shook my head and leaned against the tree trunk. This world really had a way of turning even the simplest peaceful life into chaos. At least the tributes from the grateful animals made up for the sudden surge of aggressive visitors. For now, I decided to enjoy the brief quiet before the next surprise inevitably showed up.