Immortal Druid

[POV: Long Xue]

The ancient forest burned with an unrelenting fury, orange flames licking the sky like the tongues of enraged fire dragons. Thick black smoke curled upward, choking the spiritual qi in the air and scattering flocks of spirit birds in panicked flight. Long Xue stood atop a jagged outcrop, his snow-white robes untouched by the chaos below, his long black hair swaying gently in the heated wind. His subordinates moved like shadows through the inferno, herding their quarry toward the sheer mountainside.

“Stubborn to no end,” Long Xue murmured, feeling bored at the moment.

He took a single step forward, and space itself folded around him. In the blink of an eye, he reappeared beside a trail of bloodstained earth littered with the broken bodies of his own men. Deep sword slashes marred the ground and trees, each cut infused with lingering sword intent that still hummed with deadly sharpness. The work of the Sword Formation King, without a doubt. Long Xue had studied his target thoroughly; in a matter of such grave importance, no detail could be overlooked.

“To think he could still move so much after his core was destroyed and his arm was severed,” Long Xue said softly, gazing at the carnage. “He had a warrior’s spirit. It is unfortunate to see it go to waste, but alas… I have a job to do.”

With another casual step, the world blurred. Long Xue now stood high upon the mountainside, overlooking the foot of the peak where jagged rocks met scorched woodland. The privilege of traversing vast distances with mere intent alone was one of the many boons granted to a Nascent Soul cultivator. Few below his realm could hope to escape once his gaze had locked upon them.

A ripple in the spiritual qi announced the arrival of another. Guo Yupin materialized at the base of the mountain, his body drenched in blood, an elderly woman slung across his back. Several swords floated protectively around the old swordsman, their edges trembling with barely contained rage. Guo Yupin glared upward, his face twisted in defiance.

“You are late,” Long Xue stated plainly.

Guo Yupin spat a mouthful of blood. “I really have terrible luck lately. I wish it brushes on you, so that you may suffer a terrible death.”

Long Xue’s lips curved into a faint, cold smile. “Leave the old woman behind, and I shall spare you and your sect.”

“I don’t trust a word you say—”

“And you just lost an eye.”

Before Guo Yupin could react, his left eye exploded in a spray of blood and gore. The severed organ now rested delicately between Long Xue’s fingers, still warm and twitching with residual qi. Guo Yupin dropped to one knee with a guttural cry, the sudden motion jolting the old woman awake. She coughed violently, flecks of blood staining her pale lips.

Long Xue regarded her with mild interest. “She’s done for, Guo Yupin. I suggest you leave her to me. It is not too late just yet.”

The old woman lifted her head, her eyes burning with hatred despite her weakened state. “Who… do you work for?”

“That is none of your business,” Long Xue replied indifferently. “I must say, I was expecting more. The Hidden Village of Leaf, or should I say… the secret order of the Willow Tree? A branch leader like you is only at the Core Formation realm. This is truly disappointing. I suppose it must be true that your organization has been declining for years.”

Shock flashed across the old woman’s face. “H-How much do you know?”

“Apparently, not enough,” Long Xue continued, his tone almost conversational. “We were so convinced that you were the Shén we were looking for. It was a clever ruse, swapping names with the true Shén and keeping her close to you. That way, any divination attempts would be misled, and even if spies were deployed, you could react swiftly to hide her. In this case, we succeeded on both fronts. Not to mention, we caught you so off guard that no amount of preparation could stand against me.”

He paused, letting the weight of his words settle like falling snow.

“By now, my subordinate should have tracked the real Shén and should be bringing her here. Now, don’t make this difficult. There are only two surviving Shén since the Age of Supremacy. Where’s the other one?”

The old woman pushed herself away from Guo Yupin, her frail body trembling as she coughed up another mouthful of dark blood. Poison coursed through her meridians like venomous snakes, yet she lifted her chin with unyielding defiance, her eyes blazing with righteous fury.

“How do you know all of this!? Just who are you?” she demanded, voice hoarse but steady.

Long Xue regarded her with faint amusement, his expression unchanging. “A cultivator.”

In his mind, the truth was far simpler and far colder. A Shén was a god-like existence, intimately connected to the Heavenly Dao itself, blessed with the rare privilege of creation. In other words, an invaluable resource. One that could not be allowed to remain hidden or wasted.

“What do you want with my granddaughter?” asked the old woman.

“We will grind her into pills,” Long Xue declared calmly, as though discussing the weather. “Her flesh, blood, and bones will provide unparalleled methods of ascension for our members. We will take care of her far better than your pathetic village ever could. She shall be fed the finest spirit fruits, protected by the strongest arrays, spoiled with treasures beyond imagination, and given everything she could possibly need. And in turn, we will use her as we see fit. With the ancient spells at our disposal, it will be nearly impossible for her to perish, no matter how many times we extract from her.”

The old woman shook with uncontrollable rage. Despite her grievously injured state, she stirred the surrounding spiritual qi into a turbulent vortex, her voice cracking like thunder. “HOW DARE YOU!? THAT’S MY GRANDDAUGHTER!”

Long Xue shook his head slowly. “No. You fashioned yourself as her grandmother, gained her trust, and manipulated her into a role she was never meant to bear. A Shén is a lofty existence… something to be worshipped and revered, not hidden away like a shameful secret. Your village and your organization’s misguided ideals have sullied her. Not only have you wasted her boundless potential, but the limitless possibilities she represented for the future of cultivation itself.”

He paused, his gaze turning contemptuous. “I suppose the Hidden Village of Leaf has truly fallen. You could not even summon a single Nascent Soul cultivator or higher to protect her. That is to be expected, after the constant losses you suffered while defending the pathetic weaklings of this continent. You bled your most capable practitioners dry against invading forces from other continents. The era of the Hidden Village of Leaf is no more.”

A cruel smile touched Long Xue’s lips as he spread his arms slightly, voice ringing with triumphant declaration. “Now, I proudly proclaim that this continent truly belongs to—”

He stopped mid-sentence.

The raging flames that had engulfed the forest suddenly flickered and died, extinguished as though a vast hand had smothered them. At the same time, the spiritual signatures of dozens of his subordinates vanished in rapid succession, snuffed out like candles in a storm.

Guo Yupin, still kneeling and clutching his ruined eye socket, rasped urgently, “We should go, Elder—”

In a blur of motion, Long Xue appeared before the old swordsman. With a single casual swipe of his hand, spiritual energy condensed into a razor-sharp blade that sliced through Guo Yupin’s neck as easily as cutting through silk. The head tumbled to the ground, eyes still wide with shock, while the body collapsed in a heap.

“Now that I’ve gotten rid of the nuisance,” Long Xue said softly, turning back to the old woman, “I suppose I have to deal with you as well. I can extract the answers I need from this unexpected intruder instead. I must say, I did not expect your village to still possess this much hidden strength.”

The old woman stared at him in genuine confusion, her face pale and streaked with blood. “What… are you talking about?”

Long Xue sighed, a trace of impatience entering his voice. “There is no need to play the fool—”

He swept his hand once more. Another flash of condensed qi severed her head cleanly from her shoulders. The elderly woman’s body crumpled beside Guo Yupin’s, her final expression frozen in bewilderment.

Long Xue turned his gaze skyward. Dark crows had begun to gather in ominous clusters, circling silently above the scorched battlefield. Their caws echoed like mocking laughter through the sudden, unnatural quiet.

From between the charred trees emerged a majestic tiger, its fur shimmering with strange power. In the next instant, the beast transformed into a swirl of spiritual energy, revealing a silver-haired man with sharp, pointed ears and piercing eyes. He carried an aura of ancient wilderness, yet his posture spoke of weariness.

The newcomer looked down at the two fresh corpses at Long Xue’s feet, his voice low and laced with both exhaustion and lament. “It looks like I am too late.”

Long Xue studied the silver-haired man carefully, his Nascent Soul perception sweeping over the intruder without restraint. A faint smile returned to his face, cold and calculating.

“Too late for what, exactly?” he asked, his tone deceptively mild. “And who might you be, to dare interrupt the Dark Order’s affairs on this continent?”

…

..

.

I tilted my head, a low chuckle escaping my lips as I repeated his words with a hint of mockery. “Dark Order? Is that the name of your organization?”

The man before me radiated an unnatural calm, his presence sharp and alien compared to the cultivators I had slain earlier. Having casually beheaded Guo Yupin and the old woman without breaking a sweat, this man’s power clearly surpassed the Core Formation realm.

This could be serious. Yet the blood thirst still burned hot in my veins. The metallic tang of my victims lingered on my tongue, and I could still taste the warm flesh between my canines from when I had hunted those black-robed cultivators in my tiger form, tearing through them with fang and claw.

Above me, the crows circled and cawed with raucous glee, their voices a chaotic chorus only I could fully understand in this moment of heightened senses.

“Kick his ass, pointy ears! Tear the pretty boy apart!” one screeched.

“Show him the wild’s fury!” another added.

A particularly helpful old crow fluttered lower, croaking usefully, “He moves like lightning, fast as thought itself. Calls himself Long Xue. Be careful, Silver One!”

My druidic instincts roared louder than the crows. Slaughter this aberration. End him before he could further desecrate the natural order.

I planted my gnarled wooden staff into the scorched earth and activated Druidic Insight, letting the ancient primal knowledge of leaf, root, and beast flow through me. It was often unreliable, a hit or miss woven from the whispers of the wild itself, but I seized every scrap it offered. The more advantages I held, the surer this man’s death would be.

The insight bloomed in my mind like unfolding vines, allowing me to learn so much about him.

"I can see through you."

I decided to use it all for theatrics, summoning the inner role-player within me.

“Long Xue of the so-called Dark Order,” I called out, my voice calm yet carrying across the ashen clearing, each word striking like a hammer upon still water as I thumped my staff in every punctuation. “Your robes whisper of shadow qi. Thin as mist, yet stubborn as rot. A dual affinity for shadow and water… how fitting. Concealment, misdirection, the art of striking where eyes cannot follow. Even now, those unseen threads coil at your fingertips, trembling with intent. Hidden weapons, subtle traps—methods of a butcher who fears the battlefield. Your movements betray you further. Every step, every breath… refined for precision, not power. Dexterity is your pride, is it not?”

I let the silence stretch, a faint smile tugging at my lips as my gaze sharpened.

“And yet, for all your so-called mastery… you are hollow in ways far more pitiful. Two hundred and eighty years since you last touched a woman, and even that moment slipped through your grasp like sand. In truth, you are but a withered husk in that regard, unfit for such pursuits. Perhaps you favor other company… or perhaps you are simply incapable of desiring any at all.”

My tone turned colder, edged with ridicule.

“And mortal pleasures? Five centuries have passed since you last tasted even the simplest meal. Tell me, Long Xue… have you truly transcended such desires—”

I took a step forward, eyes glinting with quiet contempt.

“—or have you merely forgotten what it means to be human?”

I thumped my staff into the ground again with each punctuated word, and with every strike, a radiant Sunlight Orb bloomed into existence, warm and golden, floating and rotating slowly around my body like miniature suns banishing the lingering darkness.

Long Xue let out a low scoff, the sound dry as withered leaves. His sleeves did not stir, yet the air around him seemed to tighten.

“So much prattle,” he said coldly. “Petty tricks and shallow insight. You think such crude probing can shake me? Childish. Beneath me.”

“You misunderstand,” I replied evenly. “I never intended to shake you.”

His eyes narrowed at once, a trace of killing intent leaking into the air.

“Hmph. A silver-tongued cur,” Long Xue sneered. “Daring to posture before me with borrowed wit. You parade a few scraps of perception and think yourself profound? At best, you are a street dog barking at the heavens. At worst… an ignorant fool courting death. Do not feign innocence. Every word you spoke was meant to provoke. Or do you take me for a blind cripple, unable to see through such laughable schemes?”

“Yeah, you got it right,” I laughed. “Virgin cocksucker!”

I unleashed the dozens of Sunlight Orbs orbiting me. They shot forward in a brilliant cascade of golden light, nature’s wrath blazing across the scorched clearing like a second sun.

Long Xue’s eyes widened for a split second before his form blurred, shadow and water qi twisting around him in a defensive veil. Explosions of radiant energy ripped through the air, vaporizing rocks and turning ash to glass. I felt several orbs connect, searing flesh and drawing a sharp hiss from Long Xue. He reappeared ten paces away, robes singed, one cheek blistered, yet his killing intent only sharpened. “Insolent worm—”

Before he could finish, the ground beneath him erupted. Vines thick as pythons, infused with primal druidic fury, surged upward to ensnare his legs. My heart pounded with savage joy as I prepared the next strike.

I grinned through the adrenaline, staff raised high. “Run along, pretty boy. It won’t be fun, otherwise.”