Immortal Druid

[POV: Long Xue]

Long Xue’s blood ran cold and his voice trembled.

“S-So much power.”

The creature that stood before him was no longer anything resembling a cultivator. Ivory skin glowed like polished bone under the World Tree’s sickly light. A crown of twisted twigs sat upon its silver-maned head, and those shimmering butterfly wings unfolded with a soft, mocking flutter. Its eyes were ancient, pitiless, and held the calm certainty of a predator that had already won.

He refused to accept it.

Long Xue poured every ounce of his Nascent Soul power into motion. Water qi exploded outward in a storm of razor threads, teleporting in frantic bursts, illusions multiplying until the air itself seemed to bleed. He struck from every angle at once, sword flashing, seed pulsing wildly in his chest like a second heart. Each attack should have ended it. Each should have carved the monster apart.

None of them touched it, even his shadow qi failing to hide him anymore.

The monster simply drifted, wings barely moving, and every slash dissolved into harmless mist against an invisible wall of living green. Vines thicker than his torso uncoiled from nowhere, wrapping his limbs with gentle, almost loving pressure. Thorns sank in. Pain burst from his every nerve, reminding him he was still alive and still losing.

Terror clawed up his throat. This was impossible. He was Nascent Soul. He had toppled sects, devoured geniuses, bent the laws of heaven itself. Yet here he was, bleeding in a forest that refused to stay dead.

Desperation finally broke him.

Screaming, Long Xue ignited the seed without restraint. Black-red qi detonated from his core, shattering his own meridians in the process. Bones cracked. Flesh tore. He didn’t care. With a roar that shook the heavens, he unleashed his ultimate technique.

“Abyssal Tide Requiem.”

The entire forest vanished in a cataclysm of corrosive water and void energy, trees disintegrating into sludge, ground collapsing into a bottomless black sea. Nothing could survive this. Nothing had ever survived this.

For one glorious heartbeat, the world was empty and silent.

Yet despite all of this, the mirage of the mysterious and ancient tree remained, and the same was true for the monster now staring down at him.

The monster raised a single porcelain hand.

The forest remade itself.

Roots surged upward like dragons reborn, knitting the shattered earth back together in seconds. Leaves unfurled, flowers bloomed, and the tree’s colossal form only grew taller, brighter, mocking. The monster hovered in the center of it all, untouched, smiling with serene cruelty.

It was toying with him.

Long Xue’s vision blurred with rage and horror. He lunged one final time, seed blazing like a dying star, only for the monster to flick its wrist. A single vine, thin as silk, punched through his chest and crushed the seed between its tendrils. The parasitic thing that had promised him dominion over the end simply popped like a rotten fruit. Agony, unlike anything he had ever known, flooded his veins.

He felt his soul tearing free from the ruined body, golden Nascent Soul rising in a desperate bid for escape. He would flee across continents, warn the Dark Order, return stronger…

However, as fate would have it, today was the day he would die.

A hand closed around his soul from nowhere.

Long Xue’s spirit screamed as invisible jaws clamped down, smothering, devouring. He thrashed, but the pressure only tightened, pulling him into a darkness that had no bottom.

When his eyes opened again, he was no longer in the forest.

Cold stone pressed against his knees. Chains of black iron clinked around his wrists. Two towering figures stood before him. Ox-Head on the left with massive horns scraping the cavern ceiling, and Horse-Face on the right with teeth bared in a permanent grin of judgment.

The underworld.

Long Xue stared up at the guards of the dead, his once-mighty Nascent Soul now nothing more than a trembling shade.

“I… No… This can’t be…”

…

..

.

The Spirit of the World Tree slowly vanished, its colossal form dissolving into motes of golden-green light that drifted away on an unfelt wind. That spell had always been a monster back in the game. It was a mana guzzler so severe it could only last ten seconds at most, even with perfect optimization. Yet here I had held it for sixteen full seconds, maybe longer if I practiced.

The buffs, the domain control, the way it bent reality itself… everything felt sharper, deeper, more natural since I had arrived in this world. My powers were changing, evolving in ways the game’s code could never have predicted. The possibilities made my head spin.

Slowly, my Wild Shape unraveled. The majestic Primal Nature Spirit shrank back into a Primal Nature Elemental, then finally released me, returning my body to its original elven form. I stood there in the ruined clearing, chest still heaving from the exertion.

Above me, a flock of crows descended in a noisy, worried swirl, cawing urgently as they circled my head.

“Silver One! You suddenly vanished together with that wicked man!” one cried.

“We searched everywhere, but the forest went silent and empty!”

“We feared the worst that you had been taken to some terrible place we could not follow!”

I raised a hand, offering a tired smile. “I’m fine. Really. It was just a powerful technique. Thank you for worrying about me.”

The wise crow, larger and more solemn than the rest, landed on a low branch and gave a sharp caw. His brothers and sisters immediately quieted. “Enough. Disperse and give the Silver One space. He has earned his rest.”

The murder obeyed at once, fluttering to nearby trees but keeping a respectful distance.

I stared down at what remained of Long Xue. He was little more than a bloody smear mixed with torn cloth and shattered bone. I remembered the moment clearly: how I had torn his spiritual body free from the ether, chewed it between jaws as if he was nothing more than a snack, and swallowed until nothing was left to swallow. If even a fragment had escaped, he might one day return. The thought left a sour taste in my mouth.

The wise crow tilted his head, studying me with those sharp black eyes. “You seemed troubled, Silver One.”

I let out a short, bitter laugh. “It’s that obvious, huh?”

“What’s the problem?” he asked, voice low and patient.

I hesitated, then decided there was no point in hiding it anymore. “I don’t like it… this lack of conviction inside me. Would you believe me if I told you I’m from another world?”

The crow sounded more curious than confused. “What is a world?”

I guessed that was to be expected. A crow wouldn’t have the same vocabulary. I tried to explain as simply as I could. “Everything. The land, the sky, the sea, the place under, the place over. When observed from the vacuum of space, you can see this world as a single whole. That is a world… or so I’d like to believe, depending on how this xianxia place actually works. What I mean is, I come from a different world. One where violence isn’t this blatant, and mysterious powers like the cultivators possess don’t exist. Heck, back home I couldn’t even talk to animals. O wise crow, do you have any advice for me?”

The old crow fluttered down and landed lightly on my shoulder, his claws gentle against my skin. He remained silent for a long moment, thoughtful.

“I don’t understand half the words you say,” he admitted at last, his wizened voice calm and steady. “But if you mean the world is your everything, then you should already know the answer yourself. Even without grasping the greater meaning of your philosophical question, I can answer with confidence: I know my world. If it is the land, the sky, and the sea, then my world must be the sky. Sometimes it is also the land. Rarely, we gaze upon the sea, admiring that entirely different world. My murder of crows is my world, and everything I am now is because of the life I have led. Measly beast or not, the world I see is the one I live. So no, I don’t think I have advice for you. If it is a lack of conviction you fear, then fear not. Conviction comes to those who are willing to believe it.”

He gave my shoulder one last gentle press with his beak, then launched into the air. With a few commanding caws, he ushered the rest of his flock upward. His voice carried back to me as they rose into the canopy.

“We’ve done our part. We guided you to slaughter these offenders. O Silver One, we shall not forget this gratitude. We will continue watching over you from afar.”

The forest was quiet, the kind of silence that presses in after violence. For a few seconds, I simply stood there, letting the weight of what I had just done settle over me. Then, with a quiet breath, I extended my will and used phytokinesis. Vines and roots surged from the soil like living fingers, dragging the bloody smear deep into the earth until no trace remained.

“Are you satisfied now, Nevle?” I asked aloud. No one answered. Of course not. He never did when it mattered. I sighed. “Conviction, huh?”

I had done the right thing. If that parasitic seed had matured and taken over the village, something far worse could have happened. I knew it in my bones. Still, the taste of it lingered, bitter as old blood.

It began to rain.

I could have changed the weather with a spell, but I let the droplets fall on me. There wouldn’t be any real change anyway, and it wasn’t like I could get sick anymore. Not with this body. I stuck my tongue out, catching a few cool drops.

“Man… even rainwater tastes different in this world.”

A world. The word felt heavy. A world was something you lived in, and right now, this moment with rain on my face, the metallic scent of blood slowly washing away, and the quiet guilt gnawing at my chest? This was my world too. The druid in me and the gamer who used to grind quests until sunrise were both part of it now.

I’ve decided.

“I’m going to live in this world.”

It was a choice I didn’t make lightly. Not after everything that had happened since I woke up in this new body, carrying Nevle’s memories and powers like unwanted luggage.

“Did you hear that, Nevle?” I said, louder this time, as if speaking to the empty air could reach whatever was left of him inside me. “We’re going to live in this world now. Let’s give it our all.”

I wanted to experience everything I never could in my past life. Simple things like laughing until my stomach hurt, tasting food that actually mattered, maybe even falling in love without overthinking every consequence. And impossible things too. Flying on the back of a dragon for real. Walking among ancient sages. Seeing magic not as pixels on a screen, but as something alive and breathing.

The consequence of that decision was simple. I had to play my part in this world, no matter how big or small. I was a druid. There were certain things I expected of myself, such as to protect the balance, nurture life, and punish those who twisted nature for cruelty. At the same time, I was still an Earthling at heart, carrying sensibilities that would probably clash hard with the denizens of this world. Living here meant being responsible for my own actions. It meant having the dignity not to run away even when things went wrong.

“Nevle, I don’t know about you, but… this is my conviction.”

I walked deeper into the trees until I found them.

The carcasses of an old woman and an old man, both heads severed cleanly from their necks. The sight hit me harder than I expected. They lay there like discarded puppets, rain already beginning to pool in their open eyes. I knelt and gently placed their heads back beside their bodies, arranging them with as much care as I could manage. My hands didn’t shake, but something inside me did.

Druidism—the old faith—celebrated nature, revered the circle of life, and demanded balance above all. The people who died today hadn’t deserved this. The aggressors had wielded power they should never have touched, corrupting it into something ugly.

What I was about to do would definitely upset the balance Nevle believed in.

“So if you’re still there inside me, stop me now.”

I waited. Nothing. No surge of resistance. No voice screaming in my skull. Just the rain.

I raised my staff. The carved wood felt warm in my grip, alive with latent power.

“Revive Life.”

The spell left my lips like a prayer and a challenge at the same time.

The earth beneath the old woman’s body trembled. Roots and tender shoots burst forth, wrapping around her corpse in a gentle, swirling cocoon of green. Soil and plant life swallowed her completely. For several long heartbeats, the only sound was rain and distant thunder.

Then the plants parted.

She emerged whole again with skin unmarred, neck unbroken, and chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. Her eyes fluttered open, confused and frightened.

Thunder cracked overhead, loud enough to rattle the leaves, as if the heavens themselves frowned at my arrogance.

I didn’t care.

The old woman sat up slowly, touching her own throat in disbelief. “W-What… happened?”

A miracle? I’d dare not call it that. I was neither a god nor the prophetic son of one. I was just… me. Wally. Now, Wo Li. A former gamer who died from truck-kun’s gracious embrace, now playing druid in a world that didn’t ask for him.

“Showing my conviction,” I said quietly.

Exactly at that moment, lightning descended.

It struck me without warning. It was white-hot, blinding, and merciless. Every nerve in my body ignited at once. I felt my heart seize, my vision fracture into searing fragments. Pain unlike anything I had ever known tore through me, and for one terrible second I wondered if Nevle had finally decided to fight back from within.

Then darkness.

I died.

Or at least… I think I did.

The last thing I remembered before everything went black was the old woman’s scream, and the faint, almost amused whisper in the back of my mind that might have been Nevle’s.

“You fool… balance always collects its due.”

But even as consciousness slipped away, one thought burned brighter than the lightning:

“I don’t regret it.”

Not even a little.