Immortal Druid

[POV: Zhen Ai]

That day, Wo Li died.

The heavens did not hesitate, nor did they show mercy. The Heavenly Tribulation descended like an unrelenting verdict, bolts of divine lightning tearing through the sky as if the firmament itself had been split open. Each strike carried the weight of judgment, each roar an echo of cosmic displeasure. It poured into him with merciless abandon, devouring flesh, bone, and spirit alike, leaving nothing untouched by its wrath.

Wo Li did not resist.

There was no defiance in him, no futile struggle against the inevitable. As the lightning consumed him, he simply endured, his consciousness flickering like a candle in a storm. It hurt far beyond what words could capture, but even as agony claimed him, a quiet acceptance settled deep within his being.

It was fine, he thought.

After all, he had helped a good person. He had acted in accordance with his heart, with the fragile, ever-shifting balance he sought to preserve. That alone was enough. That alone gave meaning to his end. This was his Path as a Druid to nurture, to give, and, when required, to return everything back to the cycle.

Zhen Ai stood at a distance, her body trembling as she watched.

Awe and fear warred within her eyes, neither yielding ground to the other. The sheer might of the heavens left her breathless, yet it was Wo Li’s quiet acceptance that unsettled her the most. He did not scream. He did not curse. He simply… remained.

And then, he was gone.

When the storm finally ceased, when the heavens withdrew their fury as abruptly as they had unleashed it, nothing remained of the man who had once stood there. There were neither body nor bones left, only a scattered mound of ash, still faintly warm, whispering of a life that had just been erased.

The world grew still.

Even the wind seemed hesitant, as if unwilling to disturb what remained.

Then, from that ash, something stirred.

A fragile sprout pushed its way upward, trembling as it broke free from the gray remains. It was small, insignificant even, but it carried within it a stubborn vitality that refused to be denied. Before Zhen Ai’s disbelieving eyes, it grew.

Slowly at first, then with gathering momentum.

Roots dug deep into the scorched earth, anchoring themselves with quiet determination. A slender trunk rose, pale and thin, bending ever so slightly as though burdened by an invisible weight. Branches stretched outward, delicate and sparse, adorned with narrow leaves that quivered at the slightest touch of wind.

It became a willow tree.

Yet it was not a majestic one. Its form was frail, its presence subdued, as though a single harsh gust could strip it bare and end its existence. It stood there, fragile and alone, a silent testament to what had been lost and what had, somehow, endured.

The crows gathered soon after.

They perched upon its thin branches, their dark forms stark against the pale bark. One by one, they began to caw, their voices rough and mournful, echoing through the quiet landscape like a funeral dirge.

Whether they mourned the man or welcomed the tree, none could say.

….

..

.

A naked woman stared at me with tear-stricken eyes.

She knelt on the ground, one hand clutching her belly as if trying to hold something together that had already been lost. Her shoulders trembled, her breaths uneven, and yet her gaze never wavered from me.

I had no idea how I could perceive her.

I was a tree.

A very cool tree, if I did say so myself.

I stretched my branches outward and let my leaves sway gently with the wind. There was something oddly satisfying about it, like moving without actually moving. Effortless. Natural. Elegant.

Yeah. Definitely a cool tree.

…Wait.

Why was the naked woman still here?

She kept staring at me, her eyes filled with something complicated. Gratitude? Sorrow? Longing? All of the above? It was honestly making things awkward. I mean, I didn’t even know her. At least, I didn’t think I did. Also, and more importantly…

Why wasn’t she wearing clothes?

“Thank you,” she said, her voice hoarse as she bowed deeply.

Then she kowtowed.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

I froze.

Not that I could move anyway, but still, the intention was there. Do I even know you? I wanted to ask. Was I supposed to respond? Was there some kind of tree etiquette I was unaware of?

In the end, I did the only thing I could.

I stayed still.

It wasn’t like I had a choice. Trees weren’t exactly known for their conversational skills or mobility. So I remained there, silent and unmoving, the very picture of what I imagined a dignified tree should look like.

A cool, dignified tree.

Eventually, she left.

And I wasn’t going to lie, her presence had been making me uncomfortable. There was just something about being stared at by a crying, naked person that didn’t sit right with me. Also, seriously, weren’t humans supposed to wear clothes?

…Wait.

How did I know that?

I paused, or at least I tried to.

That thought felt strange, like a memory brushing against the edges of my mind without fully revealing itself. But before I could dwell on it, I reassured myself of something far more important.

At least I wasn’t naked.

My bark had me covered. Stylish, natural, and honestly, pretty impressive. It was like wearing armor and clothing at the same time. Trees had it good.

Suddenly, it began to rain. Soft at first, then steady. Droplets fell against my leaves, slid down my branches, and seeped into the earth around my roots. A cool, refreshing sensation spread through me, and I couldn’t help but feel… relieved.

Ah. Nice.

I was thirsty.

“Gulp… gulp… gulp…”

Of course, that was only happening in my head, but still, it felt accurate. I imagined myself greedily drinking it all in, like someone who had just run a marathon in the middle of summer.

Time passed.

The day faded into night, and the sky transformed into a vast canvas of stars. I gazed upward and found myself appreciating the view. Not bad. Not bad at all. Though “gazing” felt different now, more like sensing, I appreciated this. This weird tree perception thing? I could get used to it.

Slowly, I felt something just beyond me.

A presence, slithering closer.

I focused, and soon enough, I saw a massive black snake making its way toward me. Its body was thick, its movements slow and deliberate. If I had to describe it honestly…

Was it just me, or was it kind of fat?

“It seems the circle has indeed taken you back,” the snake said, its voice low and almost contemplative. “Hopefully, in the next cycle, you won’t have it worse.”

Whoa.

The snake could talk.

I immediately tried to respond. “Hey! Yeah, I can hear you! Also, what do you mean by that? And what circle? And—”

Nothing. No sound came out. Right. Tree.

The snake continued, completely unaware of my internal panic. “I was conflicted about what to do with your friend. In the end, I decided to bring him here instead.”

Friend?

Before I could process that, the snake opened its mouth.

And then it started regurgitating something.

I watched in horrified fascination as a human body slowly emerged, covered in slime and partially digested remains. It was, without question, one of the most disgusting things I had ever witnessed.

Yuck.

Wait.

Hold on.

Maybe… maybe this was a good thing?

Trees needed nutrients, right?

When the snake finally finished, it pulled back, leaving behind the body of a bald man. His skin was scorched and uneven, riddled with burns and boils that made him look like he had barely survived something catastrophic.

“This is as far as I will go,” the snake said calmly. “I’ll leave it here.”

And just like that, it turned and left.

A part of me was concerned. Another part of me was still stuck on something far more important. So… was this fertilizer, or was I supposed to do something about this baldy here? I stared at the bald man lying near my roots and wondered what, exactly, I was supposed to do with him.

I mean, I was a tree.

There were limits to what I could realistically contribute to this situation.

The crows, however, had no such limitations. They gathered quickly, black feathers rustling as they descended upon the body like a council convening for something deeply questionable. They perched on branches, on the ground, even on the poor guy himself, tilting their heads as if evaluating quality.

Then they started talking.

“We’ve been on guard duty for hours,” one crow cawed, its tone dripping with annoyance. “A little snack wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

“Snack?” another snapped back. “Are you blind? The snake clearly left this for the Master of the Forest. You want to steal from him?”

“Master, shm-aster. I don’t see anyone here except a skinny tree and a corpse.”

“That ‘skinny tree’ is probably him, you idiot!”

“That makes no sense. Since when do masters turn into trees?”

“Since always, probably. Cultivators are weird.”

Their argument escalated quickly, voices overlapping, wings flaring, beaks snapping in agitation.

“I’m telling you, we should just take a small bite!”

“And I’m telling you that’s how you get cursed for ten lifetimes!”

“It’s just one eye!”

“YOU ARE NOT EATING THE EYES!”

I listened, increasingly baffled.

Master of the Forest? Who were they talking about? There was just a clearing, a corpse, a bunch of loud crows… and me. A very cool tree, yes, but still just a tree. “Oi! Fuck off!” I tried to shout at them. “Leave the poor guy alone! He’s been through enough!”

Silence.

Well, not actual silence. The crows were still arguing like their lives depended on it. But none of them reacted to me.

Right.

Tree.

Despite that, I couldn’t help but feel a strange familiarity with the bald man. I didn’t know why. It wasn’t like I had memories, at least not clear ones, but something about him felt… close. Enough that the thought of these feathery hooligans pecking him apart didn’t sit right with me.

I focused on the body and thought, somewhat desperately, “Wouldn’t it be nice if he just… wasn’t dead?”

The ground answered.

Without warning, the soil beneath the bald man shifted and swallowed him whole.

The crows froze.

“What—what just happened?” one of them shrieked, hopping backward in alarm.

“Did the ground just eat him?!”

“Is this the Master’s doing?! I knew it! I told you not to touch the body!”

Before their panic could settle, the earth stirred again. The ground split open and spat the man back out. He landed with a dull thud, but something was different. The burns were gone. The boils had vanished. His skin, once ravaged and broken, was now whole and unmarked, as if he had never been injured at all.

“I call dibs on the eyes—” one crow began greedily.

The bald man’s eyes snapped open.

“AAAHHH!” the crow screamed, flapping backward in sheer terror.

The others scattered, cawing in alarm as the man jerked upright, his breathing ragged, his gaze darting wildly from one crow to another.

“W-Where am I?” he stammered, voice trembling. “Why am I here? Who… who am I?”

He looked down at his hands as if they belonged to someone else, his confusion deepening into panic.

“I don’t… I don’t remember anything…”

Then, as if the weight of that realization crushed him all at once, he let out a broken cry and stumbled to his feet.

“I don’t know! I don’t know!” he shouted, turning and running blindly into the distance.

The crows hovered in the air, watching him go.

“Hey! Come back!” one of them called, as if expecting a response.

Of course, he didn’t hear them. I watched him disappear and felt… amused. Well, that worked out nicely. He was alive again, and he got away without becoming crow food. Good for him.

…Wait.

Why were dark clouds gathering above me?

They rolled in silently, swallowing the moonlight, thick and oppressive. The air grew heavy, charged with something ominous, and faint sparks of lightning flickered within the clouds like restless serpents.

“It’s a Heavenly Tribulation!” a crow shrieked in pure panic. “RUN!”

What even was a Heavenly Tribulation?

“Wait, wait—why are you all flying away?” I tried to call out.

The answer came in the form of thunder.

A bolt of lightning crashed down from the heavens and struck me directly.

Pain exploded through my entire being.

“AAAAAAAHHH—WHAT THE HELL?!” I screamed internally, my thoughts erupting into a string of frantic curses. “WHAT DID I EVEN DO TO YOU?! LEAVE ME ALONE, DAMN IT!”

Another bolt followed.

And another.

Each strike felt like I was being torn apart, reduced to splinters and ash all over again. The agony was indescribable, a relentless assault that left no part of me untouched. Just as suddenly as it began, it stopped. The clouds dispersed. The night returned to its quiet stillness. I took a moment to… exist. Then I assessed the damage.

“…Huh.”

I think I just lost a few more leaves.

That was it?

I mean, it hurt like hell, but in terms of actual damage… I still had my trunk. My branches were mostly intact.

Still, if this kept up, I might end up bald like that guy earlier.

That would be tragic.

Days passed.

Then nights.

Then more days.

I lost track of time somewhere along the way. It wasn’t like I had anything better to do than stand here and photosynthesize. Counting days felt unnecessary when your entire existence revolved around just… being.

Eventually, though, something changed.

I sensed movement again.

New visitors.

Three figures approached the clearing. There was a young woman, an old woman, and an owl perched comfortably nearby, guiding them along.

“I’m telling you, this is the place,” the owl said, her voice calm and certain. “Zhen Ai told me herself. This is where the Master of the Forest perished.”

The young woman frowned slightly. “It doesn’t look like much, Willow.”

“Appearances can be deceiving,” the old woman replied, her tone measured.

“Grandmother, I’m not blind,” the younger one muttered. “I just expected something… grander.”

“Li Ming, someone died here,” the old woman said dryly, “so I expected you to complain less.”

“I don’t mean that, it’s just I can’t see Senior Wo Li perishing…”

The owl let out a soft hoot. “Focus, Li Ming, Li Qing. We’re close.”

I listened quietly, piecing things together. Li Ming. Li Qing. And the owl… Willow. Master of the Forest. Perished. The words individually made sense, but strung together? I’m having a hard time making sense of them.

…Wait.

They weren’t talking about me, were they?