Immortal Druid

The inside of the mysterious cave had finally fallen silent. For all its strange beauty from the sky-like ceiling carved from ancient stone, shimmering faintly as if mimicking the heavens, and the jagged formations that concealed countless secrets… I could not bring myself to appreciate any of it. My mood would not allow it. The Spirit of the World Tree faded behind me, its presence dissolving into nothingness along with my Wild Shape. My body returned to its natural state, that of a silver-haired elf, bare and exposed in the aftermath of battle. There had been no time to retrieve my garments when that creature reeking of undeath had found me. The Garments of the World Listener should still be where I had left them, sealed within that tree.

I exhaled slowly, surprised at how quickly my emotions settled. The anger remained, but it no longer clouded my thoughts. Kneeling beside Xing Ning’s corpse, I inspected his wounds with a steady gaze. Even without Druidic Insight, the truth was obvious to me. A single, precise strike from behind was what ended Xing Ning’s life. My jaw tightened as I took a slow breath, anger stirring on his behalf. Yet anger alone could not halt the turning of the world.

Life moved on, as it always did, indifferent to loss.

I removed his storage ring and swept my spiritual sense through it, only to find it empty. Whoever had done this had taken everything of value. With a quiet sigh, I stored Xing Ning’s body within the ring. It was the least I could do for him now.

Retracing my steps deeper into the cave, I followed the path from where I had first been summoned, back when I chased the thing that had defiled his soul. It did not take long to find the headless corpse of the woman. Without hesitation, I stored her as well.

Eventually, I arrived at the mural chamber. The aftermath of my earlier battle greeted me with all of the blood, flesh, and shattered remains of cultivators scattered across the ground. The stench lingered, thick and oppressive. I searched through the remains until I found a set of ragged but mostly intact robes. Slipping them on, I restored what little dignity I had left.

With a flick of my will, phytokinesis answered. Roots and soil rose, embracing the fallen as I buried them beneath the earth. It was not a proper burial, but it was better than leaving them to rot where they lay.

My gaze lifted to the mural. It depicted a young man with dark hair, his expression serene, almost divine. Activating Druidic Insight, I examined the chamber carefully, supplementing instinct with what little “gamer logic” I still carried from my past life. The pictograms and paintings revealed fragmented truths, but they were enough.

This was a tomb. And more than that, it was a place where resurrection had been attempted… through necromancy of all things!

If I wanted answers, there was only one option left.

I retrieved the headless body of the woman and placed it before me. “Revive Life,” I uttered. The ground responded, swallowing her form whole. Moments later, the earth shifted again, and her body was returned, whole and alive.

Her eyes fluttered open.

Before she could react, Thorn Whips erupted from the ground, binding her limbs with ruthless efficiency. I stepped forward and embraced her, my grip unyielding as I released Slumber Pollen into the air. The particles drifted around her, but she resisted, her body tensing as confusion overtook her.

“What… what is this?! Why am I—?!” she struggled against me, her voice sharp with alarm and disbelief.

“Wild Shape: Primal Nature Elemental.”

My body transformed, skin turning into silver wood as life itself bloomed across my form. Vines, leaves, and flowers unfurled, wrapping around us both. At that very moment, the heavens responded to the very act of resurrecting her.

A bolt of Heavenly Tribulation tore through the cave ceiling, crashing down upon us with divine fury. I endured it, invoking the innate protection of my form to nullify the attack entirely. The energy dissipated harmlessly against me, leaving the chamber trembling in its wake.

“Lifepulse,” I cast into the woman, ensuring the healing-over-time spell would allow her to survive the Heavenly Tribulation.

“Ah, ah, it hurts~! It hurts!”

“I know.”

When she faltered, weakened just enough, I released her and immediately cast Entanglement. Roots surged upward, coiling around her body and locking her in place.

Then, without hesitation, I struck.

The Thorn Whips pierced through her navel, burrowing deep as they sought out the corruption within. I felt the vile seed embedded inside her. With a single, decisive motion, I destroyed it, crushing her core along with it.

Her scream echoed through the chamber.

“No—! What have you done?! My cultivation—my core—!” Her voice broke into sobs, raw with pain and fury. “You… you monster…! Do you have any idea what you’ve taken from me?!”

She writhed against the bindings, tears streaming down her face as her strength bled away, her sobs devolving into something broken and hollow.

I stood before her, unmoved, my wooden form creaking softly as the flora around me swayed in an unseen wind.

“I know,” I said quietly. “Now, talk.”

The woman absolutely lost it.

“You filthy, tree-fondling bastard! I’ll peel your skin layer by layer and wear it as a banner! I’ll dig out your eyes and feed them to carrion beasts while you scream! I’ll violate your corpse, grind your bones, and scatter your ashes into the lowest pits of hell so even your soul cannot find peace!”

I remained unmoved.

“Think very carefully about what you just said,” I told her calmly, my wooden voice carrying a faint creak. “Think about how you died. Think about how I brought you back. Now imagine this… how many times do you think I can repeat that process? Revive you, let the lightning from above embrace us both, and then do it all over again.”

I gestured upward with my staff toward the jagged hole in the ceiling, where faint remnants of Heavenly Tribulation still lingered. Through my Druidic Insight, I had already grasped the nature of this cave. It was… different. The tribulation felt weaker, its destructive force dampened, as though the cave itself absorbed and devoured the heavens’ wrath.

“You won’t get your cultivation back,” I continued, my tone even. “That much is certain. But right now, you have a choice. Cooperate… or don’t. Refuse, and you can look forward to either exquisite torture or a meaningless release. I’m fine with either.”

With a subtle motion of my finger, the Thorn Whips tightened and spread her limbs wide, forcing her into a crucified position. Vines coiled around her wrists and ankles, pulling until her body strained against them.

“I can be very creative,” I said, tilting my head slightly. “I can rip your bones out one by one, snap your limbs and let them regrow crooked, or guide these vines beneath your skin and let them bloom from within you. Don’t test my patience.”

I raised my staff and brought it down once against the ground.

“One.”

Her eyes widened, trembling with fury, indignation, and pain.

“Two.”

“No—wait! Please! Forgive me! I was wrong, I was wrong!” she howled, her earlier arrogance shattering as panic took hold. Tears streamed down her face as her body shook violently. “Please don’t—!”

I lifted my staff again, ready to bring it down for the final count.

“I’ll cooperate! Please, I’ll cooperate!” she screamed, desperation clawing its way into every syllable.

The staff paused midair before I lowered it slowly.

Turning, I pointed it toward the mural. “Who is he? Tell me everything you know.”

She followed my gaze, her breathing ragged. “That… that is Lu Jing,” she said, her voice trembling. “The founding father of the Dark Order. An immortal from ancient times, someone who reached the very pinnacle of cultivation. They said he stood above all others… untouchable, invincible.”

Her eyes flickered with a strange mixture of fear and reverence.

“But he was not satisfied,” she continued. “He sought to go beyond the immortal path and to become something greater. Heaven itself struck him down for that arrogance. He was destroyed, made into an example so no one would dare follow in his footsteps.”

I listened in silence, though my thoughts churned.

There was far more I wanted to ask about the Dark Order, their structure, their reach, but time was not on my side. Every moment Lu Jing remained free was another step closer to him becoming a problem I could no longer contain. There was something deeply wrong about him, something that gnawed at my instincts. It wasn’t like the seeds. It was… worse.

“What will Lu Jing do now that he has escaped?” I asked.

For a brief moment, triumph flashed across her face. Joy followed, ugly and defiant.

“He escaped!? I’m done talking,” she sneered, summoning her courage back. “Once my ancestor recovers his cultivation, he’ll crush you like the insignificant ant you are. You have no idea what you’ve unleashed.”

I exhaled softly, unbothered.

“The vessel you prepared for him has already been destroyed,” I said. “Lu Jing is on the run. He’s weakened by time, and by me. Whatever he plans to do, it won’t be easy. He’ll need massive resources to even begin recovering.”

It was a bluff, playing on what little arrogance she had left. For one thing, I have no idea if Lu Jing could recover his cultivation or what manner of resources he’d need.

Her expression shifted instantly.

“Yes… yes, of course,” she said, almost eagerly, as if clinging to certainty. “The Dark Order will handle that. We will gather a hundred thousand souls for him. With that offering, we will raise him back to his rightful status. He will return to his peak… and when he does, all of you will kneel or die!”

It seemed I broke her too thoroughly, judging from the way her eyes looked around or scrunching in fear, pain, and delusion. I wondered how much of what she was saying was delusion or the truth?

But a hundred thousand souls?

It sounded… serious.

I let out a quiet breath and gave a small nod. “Thank you for your cooperation.”

The woman’s expression turned sullen, defeat and despair settling deep into her eyes as whatever pride she had left crumbled. Without another word, I loosened the Thorn Whips and guided her down, easing her body gently into the ground.

She blinked, confusion overtaking her grief. “What is the meaning of this?” she asked hoarsely. “Kill me.”

“I’d rather not.”

“No, no, this is not what you promised!”

“I didn’t promise anything.”

Before she could react, I raised my staff slightly and refined my control. The Thorn Whips shifted inward. With delicate precision, I guided them beneath her skin. My spiritual sense spread through her body, mapping every meridian, every pathway of qi, and every fragile root of cultivation she possessed.

Then, I destroyed them.

The vines slithered through her like silent executioners, crushing meridians, unraveling spiritual roots, ensuring nothing remained that could ever reconnect her to the path she once walked.

“Stop—! Stop it! Please—stop!” she screamed, her voice tearing apart as her body convulsed under the invisible devastation. “It hurts—! What are you doing to me?!”

I said nothing. I simply continued until there was nothing left to break.

When it was over, the vines withdrew. Her body collapsed forward onto her knees, trembling faintly. No tears came this time, only emptiness.

“You… monster…” she rasped, her voice hollow. “Why… why would you do this to me? What did I do to deserve this?” Her hands clawed weakly at the ground. “I only wanted to cultivate… to pursue the immortal path… Why do you have to stand in the way of my Order? Why give me such a cruel punishment…?”

Her head lowered further.

“If you won’t let me live as a cultivator… then kill me.”

“I refuse.”

The answer came without hesitation.

This was the most fitting punishment for her kind.

Death would have been mercy. Release. A clean severance from consequence. This, however? This forced her to live. To breathe. To exist in a world where she once held power, knowing she would never grasp it again.

“I don’t care if you choose to kill yourself afterward,” I said calmly. “But if you don’t, then you’ll spend the rest of your mortal life remembering what you once had. You stood at the threshold of everything. Power, longevity, transcendence? And you lost it all because you chose to meddle with things beyond your place.”

My gaze hardened slightly.

“The seeds. The necromancy. The Dark Order. You reached too far.”

I tapped my staff lightly against the ground. “You didn’t deserve it. Not cultivation. Not longevity. Not any of it.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and unyielding.

Cultivators… they needed to learn their place. Power was not a right. It was a responsibility. And if I deemed someone unworthy of wielding it, if they disrupted the Natural Order for their own selfish pursuits, then I would not hesitate.

I would tear them apart if I had to.

Leaning forward slightly, I lowered my voice into a quiet whisper as if to intimidate her.

“Preferably, don’t kill yourself,” I murmured. “I’ll have more questions for you in the future. If you do die… I’ll simply bring you back again.”

A faint pause.

“And that will not be a pleasant experience for you.”

Straightening, I considered her briefly. Someone of her standing within the Dark Order would undoubtedly be useful. The Willow Order could benefit from this as well.

…Huh.

So I did care if she died, after all.

Not for her, but for what she could provide.

“What is your name?” I asked.

She hesitated, her lips trembling before she finally spoke. “Z-Zhao Yan…”

I nodded once, then reached out and gave her shoulder a light pat.

“Zhao Yan,” I said, almost conversationally, “you should cherish life.”

My hand lingered there for a moment before withdrawing.

“Because without it… what are you, really?”