Immortal Druid

Five years ago.

The moment I learned through the findings of the two sects that Lu Jing might be within the Serenity Lake Domain, I did not hesitate. I returned home at once and informed Li Qing, leaving the continuation of the search in their hands. From that day onward, a restless unease settled deep within my chest. Every waking moment reminded me that a dangerous cultivator roamed free, a quiet but unrelenting voice urged me to act, to fulfill a duty I could neither define nor ignore. It followed me even as I stepped back into my forest, reclaiming my robes and my ring, as though the land itself expected something of me.

It was there that the Old Crow confronted me.

“You should slow down,” he croaked from his perch, his beady eyes glinting with something far more knowing than before.

“There is too much to do,” I replied without hesitation, my voice tighter than I intended. “And it feels like there is not enough time.”

The Old Crow tilted his head, studying me in silence before he spoke again, his tone shifting into something heavier. “I know you, Wo Li. Far more than you think. This is not the first time we’ve crossed paths.”

His words stopped me cold. I turned toward him fully, my thoughts momentarily unraveling. What followed was something I had never expected to hear. He spoke of another world, one beyond this realm, and of a past life where he had been nothing more than a pet to a warlock I had slain. The revelation struck me with equal parts disbelief and clarity. For so long, I had questioned the nature of my existence, haunted by the fragmented memories of a life that felt like a distant dream.

“So, Legacy World Online had been a real world, too, huh?”

Hearing the Old Crow speak so matter-of-factly about that world grounded me in a way I had not anticipated. It meant I was not imagining things. It meant I was real.

And yet, that truth did little to quiet the unease within me.

“You should take it easy,” the Old Crow continued, his voice lowering. “Or you might lose your way, just like my master did. He was consumed by the dark arts in the end, blind to everything else.”

I frowned, unable to place the figure he spoke of. I had taken countless quests in that other world, slain enemies without number. As the ‘player,’ I had always felt detached, as though none of it truly mattered. Even now, with thousands of years of inherited memories from my game character, the same detachment lingered. Faces blurred together, names faded into nothing. His master could have been anyone.

But that did not matter.

“I must do this,” I said, my voice steady despite the storm within me. “I cannot stop. There are things I can do, and so I will do them. If I had been more active? If I had taken responsibility sooner? Then perhaps none of this would have happened. Not to me, and not to the people around me.”

I clenched my fists, anger flickering beneath the surface. “This is not a fantasy. This world does not bend to my wishes. I have power, yes, but I have also seen my own weakness. And I refuse to ignore it. Just as I am responsible for my actions, I am responsible for this world.”

The Old Crow stared at me for a long moment, his silence stretching until it nearly became oppressive. Then, at last, he gave a low, rasping chuckle.

“Very well,” he said. “Then remember this, my murder will be by your side.”

From that day forward, I wandered the continent, moving from one hidden base of the Willow Order’s intelligence network to another. I gathered information, uprooted threats, and prepared myself for whatever lay ahead.

And now, five years later, the sky itself bore witness to my actions.

A canopy of crows cawed above, their dark forms blotting out the heavens as they circled overhead in a churning mass. Before me, a mountain lay ensnared by my Thorn Whips, its surface cracked and splintered as flames consumed what remained from bombing the place with Sunlight Orbs. The air reeked of ash and charred earth, the aftermath of yet another eradicated threat.

This was just one of the many confirmed bases of the Dark Order.

A soft flutter broke through the distant cawing as Willow descended, her owl form graceful as she landed upon a nearby branch.

“Master,” she said, her voice calm and clear, “none have survived this time.”

I exhaled slowly, the tension in my shoulders easing just slightly. “Thank you for the report,” I replied. Then, with a faint shake of my head, I added, “But you do not need to call me master. It feels… strange, especially when you were once my teacher.”

Willow’s golden eyes regarded me with quiet amusement. “You are the master of every forest now,” she said simply. “Titles need not be so rigid. If it troubles you, then we can both be masters.”

I let out a soft breath, choosing not to argue further.

Around us stood dozens of cultivators from the Willow Order, each at the Core Formation realm, their white robes marked with the emblem of a willow tree upon their backs. They had come as support, a silent assurance in case the situation had turned beyond my control.

In other words, babysitters.

“You are dismissed,” I said, my voice carrying across the scorched battlefield.

In unison, they cupped their fists and bowed. Without a word, they departed, their figures disappearing into the distance as swiftly as they had arrived, leaving me alone with Willow.

“Thank you,” I said quietly. “For joining me in this.”

She inclined her head, accepting the words without ceremony.

In truth, I had seen more killing and crippling in these five years than I had ever imagined possible. At first, each life taken had left a mark, a lingering echo that refused to fade. But over time, that hesitation dulled. Ruthlessness became a necessity. If I could, I would strip cultivators of their power, leave them alive but harmless. Yet killing… killing was easier. Simpler. Cleaner. It frightened me how natural it had become, how little I felt when it was done.

There was no satisfaction, no regret. Only a hollow apathy that stretched endlessly within me. I knew where it came from. The inherited memories of my former self, the countless battles fought as a detached ‘player,’ and the presence of that ‘monster’ within me. They had shaped me into something colder than I ever intended to be.

Willow’s voice cut gently through my thoughts. “What is next, Master?”

“A funeral,” I answered without hesitation. “I’m gonna attend a funeral.”

She studied me for a moment before asking, “Do you want me to come with you?”

I shook my head. “It is fine. Give my regards to the others. Also, ask Li Qing about their progress on the cultivator I asked her to find. I’m losing patience.”

“I understand, I shall tell her,” Willow’s feathers shifted slightly as she continued, “Zhen Ai and Old Black have both expressed their desire to join you in your fight against the Dark Order.”

A faint frown touched my lips. “Zhen Ai cannot. She has a son. The boy needs her more than this war does.” I paused briefly before adding, “As for Old Black, I would rather he remain in the forest. Someone has to keep it in check while I am gone.”

I glanced at her, another thought surfacing. “What about Roo?”

For the first time, something akin to amusement flickered in her gaze. “The kangaroo has begun wandering beyond the forest. He has taken to picking fights with passing cultivators.”

I winced, pressing a hand lightly against my forehead. “That sounds like him.”

Roo had always been… unpredictable. It was part of his charm, but also his greatest flaw. A quiet concern stirred within me despite myself. “Hopefully, he does not get himself killed because of his own antics,” I muttered.

Straightening, I let the moment pass. “Make your report to Li Qing,” I instructed. “And begin preparations for the next target.”

Willow tilted her head slightly. “Do you require rest?”

I let out a faint breath, almost amused by the question. “I do not even get tired.”

Before she could respond, I shifted my focus inward, calling upon the familiar transformation.

“Wild Shape: Eagle.”

The world shifted in an instant as my body reshaped, my vision sharpening, my form becoming light and swift. With a powerful beat of my wings, I took to the sky, the swarm of crows rising with me as though drawn by an unseen tether. They had become constant companions over the years. They were loyal and ever-present. Wherever I went, they followed, a dark tide against the heavens.

By the time we reached the Steel Mountain Domain, the gathering below was already vast. Figures filled the area, their auras steady and restrained, the atmosphere heavy with grief. I descended from the sky, releasing my Wild Shape as my feet touched the ground just beyond the crowd. The crows dispersed at once, melting into the surroundings as though they had never been there.

As I stepped forward, people began to part, their gazes lingering on me. Some recognized me, no doubt. My ears alone were enough to set me apart. Whispers stirred, but none dared approach.

Among the crowd, I caught sight of familiar robes, the cultivators of the Stone Spire Sect.

“Wo Li!” a voice called out.

I turned to see Kang Wen making his way toward me, recognition clear in his expression. “I will lead you to the Sect Leader,” he said, already gesturing for me to follow.

I gave a small nod and walked beside him, the murmurs fading into the background as we moved through the gathered cultivators. It was not long before I stood before two figures whose presence commanded the space around them.

Sect Leader Xu Ping of the Stone Spire Sect stood with his usual composed demeanor, while beside him was Sect Leader Xing Mei of the Steel Sky Sect. I inclined my head briefly toward Xu Ping in greeting before turning my full attention to Xing Mei.

“I have safeguarded your son’s body,” I said, my voice steady despite the weight of the moment. “And I did everything I could.”

The memory lingered of the spells I had cast, the attempts I had made. Resurrection techniques, soul-calling rituals… all had failed. Either his soul had already passed on, or he had chosen not to return. I really tried my best.

I plucked the storage ring from my finger that once belonged to Xing Ning and held it out to her.

Xing Mei accepted it with both hands, her composure wavering just slightly. “Thank you,” she said, her voice soft but sincere.

There was nothing more to say.

The funeral began shortly after.

I stood among the gathered cultivators, observing in silence as the rites were carried out. The body was placed upon a prepared platform, adorned with simple offerings such as incense, spirit talismans, and tokens of remembrance. One by one, individuals stepped forward to pay their respects, bowing deeply, their movements solemn and deliberate.

I followed suit when the time came.

Stepping forward, I mimicked what I had seen, such as cupping my fists and lowering my head in a respectful bow. I lit a stick of incense and placed it among the others, watching as the thin trail of smoke curled upward into the air.

I took a seat with Kang Wen, Kang Kong, and Long Xue at one of the low wooden tables arranged along the edge of the gathering. The air was thick with the scent of wine and incense, grief mingling with forced attempts at normalcy. Cups were already half-filled, their surfaces trembling faintly with each careless movement.

Kang Kong leaned forward with an eager grin, his cheeks flushed from drink as he raised the wine jar. “Young Master Long Xue, it is an honor to share a table with you. Truly, the future of the Stone Spire Sect shines brightest in your hands!”

Without waiting for a response, he hurriedly poured wine into Long Xue’s cup, his movements slightly unsteady but filled with exaggerated reverence.

Kang Wen immediately reached over and smacked the back of his nephew’s head. “Have you no shame? Acting like this in front of a guest?” he scolded, though his own slurred tone betrayed how much he had already drunk.

Grumbling under his breath, Kang Kong turned and filled Kang Wen’s cup next, muttering, “Then Uncle can drink more and calm down.”

Long Xue chuckled faintly at their antics before his gaze shifted toward me. Despite the alcohol in his system, there was still a trace of clarity behind his eyes. He picked up the wine jar and tilted it slightly. “Senior Wo Li, would you like a cup?”

I nodded once. “Thank you.”

He poured carefully, the wine flowing in a steady stream before he handed it over. I accepted it, the warmth of the cup seeping into my palm as I lifted it slightly, though I did not drink immediately.

My gaze drifted beyond the table.

Xing Mei stood beside her son’s resting place, her figure unmoving, her expression carved from quiet sorrow. Even from a distance, the weight she carried was unmistakable. The world around her continued, voices rising and falling, cups clinking, yet she remained isolated within her grief.

Long Xue exhaled slowly, his shoulders slumping as he stared into his cup. “I tried,” he said, his voice thick with alcohol. “I truly did. I looked into Xing Ning’s disappearance… searched every lead I could find.” He let out a bitter laugh. “But I found nothing. Not a single trace.”

His words hung heavy in the air.

I remained silent, but I understood. If he and Xing Ning had managed to meet back then? If their peace talks had succeeded? Perhaps the war between their sects would have ended far sooner. Perhaps things would have turned out differently.

Regret was not his alone.

Xing Ning had been the first friend I made in this world. And yet, when it mattered most, I had not been there.

Kang Kong waved a hand dismissively, nearly spilling his drink. “None of that was your fault,” he said, his tone firm despite his drunken state. “You did what you could. Blaming yourself now won’t change anything.”

Long Xue did not respond, only lowering his gaze further.

Beside me, Kang Wen suddenly leaned in close, his breath heavy with wine as he slung an arm over my shoulder. “Senior Wo Li,” he said loudly, his voice brimming with intoxicated fervor, “when you find the bastards responsible for this, let me join you this time! Those Dark Order scums deserve to die!”

Before I could respond, something solid jabbed into my back.

“I’M ALIVE! I’M ALIVE! PLEASE STOP MY FUNERAL!”

The voice rang out clearly in my mind. It was panicked, desperate, and unmistakably familiar.

My body stiffened.

Without hesitation, I shoved Kang Wen away, my movements abrupt enough to nearly send him tumbling from his seat. The presence behind me vanished just as suddenly as it had appeared, leaving a hollow silence in its wake.

Kang Wen blinked at me, thoroughly confused. “What was that for?” he asked, rubbing his shoulder.

I did not answer.

Instead, my gaze locked onto the sword at his waist.

Blackedge Eclipse.

The sword I had once given to Xing Ning.

My hand moved before my thoughts could catch up. I reached out and grasped the hilt, pulling the sword free in one smooth motion. The weight was familiar, grounding, yet my heart stirred in a way it had not in years.

I held it close, my grip tightening slightly.

“Is that you, Xing Ning?” I asked, my voice low but steady. “Are you… alive?”

“YES! YES FUCKING DAMN IT! SENIOR, I’M ALIVE!”