Immortal Druid

The forest had become my second home over the past few months. Ever since the village incident, I’d thrown myself into exploring the forest properly with boots on the ground instead of relying solely on the bird’s-eye view I’d grown used to. The difference was stark. From above, the canopy looked like a vast green ocean; down here, every root, every moss-covered stone, and every twist of vine told its own story. I carried a sketchbook with me now, its pages already half-filled with rough maps, notes on terrain, and drawings of plants I couldn’t name.

Today, I’d found a particularly strange flora. It was broad, heart-shaped leaves with silver veins that shimmered faintly when the light hit them just right. I crouched beside it, pulling out the charcoal pencil Xing Ning had made for me. The young man had taken to woodwork with surprising dedication, and this little tool was one of his first proper gifts.

I turned the pencil in my fingers, admiring the smooth wooden casing he’d carved and the thin strip of bark wrapped tightly around the charcoal core to keep my hands clean. “Not bad at all,” I murmured with a small smile. “Fits my hand better than anything I’ve used before, and it draws smoother than expected. You did good, kid.”

While the sketchbook itself had come from the village, the pencil was purely Xing Ning’s work. I sketched the plant quickly, capturing the way the leaves curled at the edges and the subtle pattern of the veins.

“Nice,” I complimented my own sketch once I finished, tilting the page to catch the dappled sunlight. My stats were still doing most of the heavy lifting when it came to accuracy and detail, but I was getting real practice in observation and patience. It felt… grounding.

My routine had shifted completely. These long, quiet strolls through the trees now consumed most of my days. In between, I practiced my druid abilities whenever the opportunity arose by turning passive skills into active ones, testing the limits of spells by carefully recalling their flavor texts and experimenting in safe clearings. Some abilities responded better than others, but each small success made the forest feel a little more like an extension of myself.

By the time I returned to camp, there was still plenty of daylight left. What had started as a simple campsite was slowly evolving into something more permanent. The treehouse I’d grown with my powers still stood above us, but Xing Ning had built a sturdy workshop on the ground that doubled as his sleeping quarters. It was a simple wooden structure, surprisingly well-made for someone who had only recently taken up the craft.

Sharing the space with him still felt a little strange, even after all this time. In the earlier days, Xing Ning had been living inside the treehouse with me. We slept in adjacent beds that I had grown from the living wood itself—two simple platforms with mossy bedding, side by side under the same leafy canopy. It was honestly weird when I stopped to think about it: two dudes sharing such close quarters. I could have easily sprouted an entirely separate treehouse for him, but at the time it hadn’t crossed my mind. Building a treehouse felt like a permanent commitment, something that would root him here for good. His stay was temporary, so I couldn’t even be bothered. On top of that, keeping him close had seemed like the safest option.

I still didn’t fully understand what kind of dangers a xianxia-style forest could hide, but after everything I’d been through, I’d loosened my old security habits. I roamed on foot more often now, trusting my instincts and powers instead of constant vigilance.

Still, old habits died hard. Just to be safe, I raised my hand and summoned more of Thorn Whips around the perimeter of the camp. The thorny vines slithered out from the earth, forming a living barrier that would alert me to any intruders while gently discouraging smaller animals.

The elderly woman, Li Qing, probably wouldn’t mind me occupying this part of the forest… but then again, I really should ask for proper permission at some point. I had no idea how land laws worked in this world. Murder and theft were obviously bad, that much was universal. Admittedly, I’d done plenty of the former recently, but it had been in defense of others and tied to whatever dormant druidic duties I apparently carried. Still, claiming territory like this might be stepping on someone’s toes.

“Nah. I’d think about it later.”

Procrastination had always been a virtue in my book. Anyone who’d survived a soul-sucking nine-to-five would understand.

A faint rustling sounded from the periphery of the camp. I frowned. The Thorn Whips should have detected anything unusual and either deterred it or alerted me immediately. Curious, I walked toward the noise, pushing aside a low branch.

There, squatting with his pants down and his butt fully exposed to the forest, was Xing Ning.

He froze mid-motion and stared up at me with wide, mortified eyes.

“Excuse me,” I said flatly, already turning on my heel and walking back the way I came.

I didn’t think he’d be handling his business a la naturale right there in the open. It was very… druid of him, I supposed.

On the topic of bodily functions, I honestly hadn’t needed to relieve myself since arriving in this world. No urination, no defecation… nothing. It probably had something to do with my druid-elf demi-god physiology as a Level 999 lifeform. My body simply processed everything perfectly, leaving no waste. That was likely why I’d completely forgotten something as basic as building an outhouse.

Behind me, I heard a frantic scrambling sound followed by hurried rustling of clothes. I kept walking, pretending I hadn’t seen anything, and headed back toward the workshop area.

Some things were better left unacknowledged. Especially when your companion was basically a teenage boy trying to survive in a cultivation world while living with a ridiculously overpowered forest druid who didn’t even need to poop.

I sighed quietly and opened my sketchbook again, flipping to a blank page. Maybe I’d draw the treehouse next. Or perhaps add a small note about the importance of privacy barriers.

Yeah. That sounded like a good use of the remaining daylight.

A few minutes later, Xing Ning came running from the opposite direction, dragging a small wooden cart behind him. He greeted me with his usual bright energy, acting as if the earlier awkward encounter had never happened at all.

“Senior, look what I got from the village!” he called out cheerfully.

Xing Ning had basically become my personal errand runner these days. He went back and forth between our camp and the village, trading the excess meat, fruits, vegetable, and materials I gained from the local wildlife. I couldn’t exactly eat everything that was sent my way and certainly not with my druid-elf physiology turning me into something closer to a walking forest spirit than a normal human, so the surplus became useful currency.

I glanced up from my sketchbook. “Did you manage to get what I requested?”

He nodded eagerly and reached into his pockets, pulling out a handful of small cloth pouches. “Here, Senior. Seeds from the herbalist.”

I took them but paused, eyeing his hands. “Did you wash your hands first?”

He immediately looked flustered, cheeks turning pink. “Of course, I d-did…”

I sighed. “We’re definitely talking plumbing later or something.”

Like many convenient 21st-century knowledge tropes you might expect from a transmigrator, I knew next to nothing about actual plumbing. For someone from modern Earth, there were surprisingly lots of practical things I had never bothered to learn. I wondered if I’d even be able to use my old college degree in this world, or if it would be completely useless here. Well, I’d probably find out someday.

I slipped the seed pouches into my own pocket and turned my attention to the contents of the cart. “Nice. They really built it under my specifications, huh?”

The birdhouse was simple but well-crafted: a small wooden box with a sloped roof to shed rain, a perfectly round entrance hole just large enough for medium-sized forest birds, and a narrow perch below it. The sides had been carved with subtle ventilation slits, and the whole thing had been treated with a light oil that gave the wood a warm, golden tone while protecting it from moisture. It looked sturdy enough to last through seasons.

Xing Ning tilted his head curiously. “What is this thing for, Senior?”

“A birdhouse,” I replied, turning it over in my hands. “To promote bird life in the area. I’ve been noticing lately that they really die a lot, like they’re everyone’s favorite snack or nature’s just feeling particularly whimsy. I’ve intervened a few times already, but the local avian population seems to have a hard time surviving. This should help give them safer nesting spots and improve their chances.”

Hopefully, the birdhouses would make a difference. My Druidic Insight had been quietly informing me which species in the forest were struggling, and I had started acting on that knowledge immediately.

I looked deeper into the cart and spotted the other items I had requested. There was a solid mineral lick block, shaped like a large salt brick with embedded trace minerals. Apparently, the concept wasn’t foreign to this world after all. Beside it lay several cleverly designed wildlife implements: a few nesting boxes of varying sizes for different bird species, a couple of shallow water basins with raised edges to prevent small animals from drowning, some simple seed feeders made of hollowed gourds, and even a set of bat boxes for nocturnal insect control. Tucked in the corner were several sealed boxes of seasoning, like dried herbs, ground spices, and packets of what looked like fermented pastes that would help preserve or flavor the meat we have in store.

Xing Ning scratched the back of his head with a proud grin. “Even after paying for all of this stuff, there were still a few spirit stones left over.”

He gestured, and a small pile of gleaming spirit stones materialized on the ground beside me.

I nodded. “You should keep a portion for yourself.”

“A few should suffice,” he answered quickly, looking a little embarrassed.

A small number of stones vanished from the pile as he claimed his share. I grimaced slightly. That looked like far too few.

“Take at least a tenth out of it,” I told him. “Like a commission.”

A few more spirit stones disappeared. I still wasn’t sure whether a tenth of the pile was actually a lot in this world’s economy, but I wanted to be fair. I’d want to give him more, yet I also had to be responsible with my own resources. I wouldn’t know when I might need economic power to solve a sudden problem.

I held out the storage ring I had acquired from that Long Xue guy and willed the remaining spirit stones into it. The pile vanished in a soft shimmer of light.

Xing Ning watched with open curiosity. “Senior… what did you do with the storage rings of those cultivators you defeated? And all their stuff?”

“I kept this one, obviously,” I said, lifting my hand to show the simple silver band. “As for the rest, I sorted through their contents and handed most of them to Li Qing and Guo Yupin to be auctioned. Of course, I inspected every ring first to make sure there wasn’t anything dangerous sealed inside.”

"Oh, so that's what they were talking about," Xing Ning’s eyes widened slightly. “It seems the items from the cultivators you defeated are already being auctioned off. Elder Li Qing told me to tell you that you should expect a huge payoff soon.”

I waved a hand dismissively. “You don’t have to report every little detail to me, Xing Ning. Just the important things.”

He nodded, though I could tell he still took his role as my errand runner very seriously. “Of course, Senior. I’ll keep doing my best!”

I turned back to the cart, already thinking about where to place the new birdhouses tomorrow. The forest felt a little more manageable with each small improvement I made. And with a reliable helper like Xing Ning by my side, even the mundane parts of settling into this world didn’t feel so bad.

Just as I reached for one of the nesting boxes, a wet splat landed squarely on my forehead.

Bird poop.

That was quite ominous.

Xing Ning immediately clamped a hand over his mouth, shoulders shaking as he desperately tried to suppress a laugh.

I stared up at the canopy for a long second, then sighed and raised my hand. “Cleanse Spirits.”

A gentle wave of verdant energy washed over me, erasing every trace of the offending droppings in an instant.

“Maybe, I should delay placing the bird nests after all…”