Immortal Druid

“Hey, Old Black!” I called out toward the enormous serpent coiling lazily around the tree.

The massive snake stirred almost immediately. Branches rustled as his gigantic body shifted, black scales gleaming faintly beneath the afternoon sunlight filtering through the leaves. His golden eyes lowered toward me with surprising gentleness.

“Master,” Old Black greeted respectfully, lowering his head slightly. “This servant greets you. Is there something you require of me?”

It still felt weird to me how Old Black and the local wildlife had been extremely respectful to me.

“There is indeed something I need,” I answered, crossing my arms. “But come on, you could at least do a little ice breaker first.”

Old Black blinked slowly. “What is ice?”

I opened my mouth confidently, but decided to close it.

“…That’s actually a harder question than I thought.”

Old Black waited patiently while I scratched my cheek awkwardly, trying to remember how to explain something so normal back on Earth without sounding stupid.

“Well… ice is what happens when temperature gets too low. Liquid becomes solid.” I crouched down, picking up a rock to gesture with. “It’s like… a chunk of coldness. White sometimes. Transparent too. Really slippery. Maybe someday, if we travel to wintry regions, we’ll see snow as well.”

Old Black’s eyes widened with visible fascination. “Snow…”

“Yeah.”

“Master,” he said carefully, almost hesitantly, “could this servant truly accompany you on such adventures?”

I laughed. “Of course. Everyone’s welcome to join my adventures.”

Old Black’s massive head lowered slightly, his forked tongue flicking out once. “Then why did Master not invite me during the hunt against those Dark Order cultivators?”

“…Ah.”

Right.

I almost forgot Old Black asked me something like that before through Willow.

I rubbed the back of my neck awkwardly. “Well, then you need to train Roo properly first. Somebody has to defend this place in our stead while we’re away. Once that kangaroo stops acting like a complete menace, we can go on adventures sometimes.”

Old Black immediately sounded serious. “This servant understands.”

Camping wasn’t just about surviving in forests or cultivating peacefully. At least, not for me. Part of it had always been about the adventure itself. Exploring unknown places. Seeing weird things. Meeting strange people. Telling stories around campfires.

Honestly, after I got bored enough with this forest, I knew I’d eventually be tempted to leave despite all my misgivings about the outside world.

Old Black shifted slightly around the tree. “Then, Master, what was it that you truly needed from this servant?”

I stared at the ground for a few moments before answering.

“…Could you talk with me for a while?”

Old Black tilted his enormous head.

“I want you to listen to my stories,” I continued quietly. “And… remember them on my behalf.”

The forest became strangely silent after those words.

Even the wind seemed to soften.

After learning that dying, resurrecting myself, or resurrecting other people could cause memory loss, I had been thinking about this for a very long time. I would be lying if I said it didn’t terrify me.

If anything, it scared me down to my bones.

That was how bad it was.

And lately, it had only been getting worse for some reason, almost like a cascading effect from everything I had done so far. Sometimes, I forgot small details. Other times, entire moments vanished from my head without warning. There were even occasions when I heard the voice of the ‘Monster’ whispering mockingly inside my mind.

“Look at you forgetting yourself piece by piece. How tragic.”

Not nice.

Very not nice.

Old Black remained silent, patiently waiting.

So I started talking.

“My name back on Earth was Wally,” I said slowly. “Well… not exactly pronounced like how others do it. Of course, I am growing into Wo Li, but it would be nice if someone knows, you know? Wally. Wa~li. Something like that. There was more emphasis on it. But honestly, I think even I’m starting to forget how it sounded properly.”

Old Black listened attentively.

“I liked superheroes a lot,” I continued with a small laugh. “Movies, comics, cartoons… all of it. I used to imagine having powers all the time when I was younger. Flying around. Saving people. Fighting monsters.”

I paused briefly.

Funny enough, I got exactly what I wanted.

Just not in the way I imagined.

“My parents were…” I frowned slightly, trying to remember. “Good people. I think. My mom used to nag me a lot. My dad was quieter.” My expression slowly stiffened. “I… can’t remember their faces anymore.”

That one hurt.

Even after all this time, it still hurt.

“I had friends too,” I continued quietly. “School friends. Online friends. We used to joke around a lot. Waste time talking about games and anime and dumb stuff.” I chuckled weakly. “Back then, I thought life was boring.”

Old Black lowered his gigantic head closer, silently listening.

I kept talking about school, food, rainy afternoons, staying awake too late watching random videos online, and how weird Earth would probably sound to people here.

At some point, I realized something strange.

I thought this conversation would feel depressing.

Instead, I found myself feeling energized and validated. Yes, I couldn’t even remember my own surname anymore. I couldn’t remember the faces of my parents. Some memories felt fragmented, like pieces of paper drifting apart in water.

But speaking about them aloud made them feel real again.

Like they existed.

Like I existed.

We spent hours wandering around the forest while talking, changing locations whenever the scenery started feeling stale. Old Black was incredibly respectful the entire time, carefully listening to every word and committing everything to memory. Occasionally, he would ask curious questions or let out amused hissing laughter whenever I told particularly ridiculous stories.

When night finally arrived, I prepared a bonfire near the riverbank.

The flames crackled warmly beneath the dark sky while embers drifted upward like tiny stars.

And still, we continued talking.

Sometimes Roo would suddenly appear out of nowhere, aggressively shadowboxing the air nearby as though demanding attention for his latest “ultimate martial technique.” Unfortunately for him, a single disappointed stare from Old Black was enough to make the kangaroo immediately shrink away in defeat before hopping off into the darkness.

The crows occasionally joined us too.

Other animals as well.

Small creatures gathered around the fire curiously, listening to my stories about another world. Some asked questions. Others simply listened quietly, fascinated by tales of skyscrapers, airplanes, superheroes, and oceans of lights stretching endlessly through cities.

They treated my words like wisdom.

I didn’t dare call them that.

They were just stories.

This continued for days, weeks, and somehow, months.

I talked endlessly about Earth, my childhood, random memories, and things that probably sounded nonsensical to creatures born in this world. Sometimes Zhen Ai would come with her son, quietly sitting near the fire while listening with genuine fascination. I rambled about movies, cities, videogames, schools, and the absurdity of internet arguments.

I had so much to tell.

And honestly?

It felt good.

Someday, when I ran out of Earth memories to share, I thought I would start telling Nevle’s stories too. The memories of his world. The life before the ‘Monster.’ The experiences that belonged to the other half of me.

Because lately, I wasn’t sure anymore who I really was.

Nevle?

Or the Earthling?

At the beginning, I had been inclined to believe I was the Earthling wearing another person’s skin. It was easier that way. But after everything that happened, after all the memories and emotions tangled together because of the ‘Monster,’ I slowly began seeing myself as both.

Though admittedly…

I cherished my Earth memories more.

Well, apparently not enough to keep living there considering I literally committed suicide, but still. My childhood especially was something I treasured deeply, even if I only realized its importance after losing pieces of it little by little.

One night, after another long storytelling session beneath the stars, I leaned back against a fallen log and let out a tired sigh.

“Thanks for listening, Old Black.”

The gigantic serpent rested his head beside the bonfire, golden eyes reflecting the dancing flames.

“No, Master,” Old Black answered respectfully. “It is this servant who must thank you. I have learned much from your stories.”

I chuckled softly. “Learned what exactly?”

“That such a life could exist without the blessings of heaven.”

I blinked.

Old Black continued slowly, sounding genuinely awed.

“A world without qi. Without cultivation. Without spiritual beasts. Yet people still reached the skies, crossed entire oceans, and built mountains of steel.” His tongue flicked thoughtfully. “Master speaks of Earth as though it were ordinary, yet to this servant, it sounds like a mythical realm.”

Honestly, hearing Earth described like that felt surreal.

My old world probably would’ve laughed itself to death if someone called it mythical.

Old Black lowered his voice slightly. “Could a snake like this servant live such an incredible life too?”

I stared quietly into the bonfire.

Incredible or mythical…

I really had no idea about that.

Earth had its own problems after all. Corruption, loneliness, violence, greed, depression. People romanticized worlds they had never lived in.

Still…

I smiled faintly.

“I don’t know,” I admitted honestly. “But if it’s a matter of choice, then you can have that too.” I poked the bonfire with a stick while using phytokinesis to pull more dried leaves and wood into the flames. “In this world.”

The fire crackled brighter.

Tonight, there were no guests.

No crows.

No curious wildlife.

Just the two of us beneath the dark forest canopy.

Old Black became unusually quiet after that, his intelligent eyes reflecting the flames with a strange spark hidden deep within them. Excitement. Real excitement.

Eventually, the enormous serpent spoke again.

“Master… it seems this servant has experienced a breakthrough.”

I looked toward him immediately.

Old Black’s voice carried restrained anticipation. “It is almost time for this servant to molt. I will need to hunt much food before entering deep slumber. I may be away for some time.”

Ah.

That meant he needed to leave for a while.

Unexpectedly, the thought made me feel a little lonely.

Somehow, I had grown used to these nightly conversations.

Old Black observed my silence before speaking again.

“If Master does not wish it, this servant shall remain.”

I shook my head immediately.

“No, no, it’s fine.” I laughed softly. “Come on, buddy. Follow your instincts. Become more. There’s no need to shy away from growth.” I pointed at him firmly. “Just remember not to lose your path.”

Old Black lowered his massive head respectfully.

“This servant thanks Master.”

Old Black began slithering away.

I watched quietly for a few moments before suddenly remembering something.

“Hey, Old Black!”

The massive serpent stopped. His gigantic head slowly turned back toward me, golden eyes glowing faintly beneath the moonlight.

“Yes, Master?”

I scratched my cheek awkwardly before speaking.

“You know… before you leave.” I pointed toward him lazily. “Could you stop talking so formally all the time?”

Old Black blinked once.

I continued, “Like the whole ‘this servant, this servant’ thing. It feels weird.”

The serpent remained silent.

I smiled faintly at him. “Just talk normally like before. Like old times.”

For a brief moment, Old Black looked genuinely stunned.

“Old times…” he repeated quietly.

“Yeah,” I answered. “Back when I asked you to teach me. Remember that?”

How long ago was that already?

Back then, Old Black had felt mysterious and terrifying to me. An ancient serpent hidden deep within the forest who spoke strange truths and watched me with unreadable eyes. I still remembered how unsure I was when I approached him for guidance.

Old Black lowered his massive head slightly, almost thoughtfully. The firelight reflected across his dark scales while the forest grew quiet around us.

Finally, he spoke again.

“…Alright.”

I blinked.

That response alone already sounded different. It was less distant and less ceremonial.

Old Black’s forked tongue flicked briefly as he looked toward me with an oddly complicated expression. “I got used to speaking that way because you became someone important to the forest.” His voice softened slightly. “But if you dislike it, I’ll stop.”

I laughed. “See? That already sounds way better.”

A low rumbling hiss escaped the enormous serpent. It almost sounded amused.

“You really are strange, Wo Li.”

Hearing him say my name so casually after months of endless “Master” this and “Master” that honestly felt refreshing.

I leaned back against the log with a grin. “There we go. Much better.”

“Until next time, Master.”

“Oh, come on!”

Soon afterward, the enormous serpent slithered away into the darkness between the trees. Not long later, distant sounds of animals fighting echoed faintly throughout the forest.

I winced slightly.

Old Black probably found his first prey already.

I felt a little bad for them, but that was the Natural Order for you. Predator and prey. Survival and death. The forest had its own balance.

I just hoped Old Black wouldn’t overhunt or anything. Honestly, I was really getting used to forest life, huh? I sat beside the bonfire alone while roasting several locust skewers over the flames. The insects crackled deliciously as they cooked, giving off an oddly savory aroma.

Ironically, the local wildlife had recently learned they could sometimes escape being eaten by literally begging for their lives. More often than not, they managed to trigger my sympathy.

Pulling the innocent wildlife card was absurdly effective.

I was pretty sure Roo taught them that strategy.

I sighed deeply.

That kangaroo could really be disturbingly creative.

The carnivore part of me was really suffering, but that was a small price to pay if it meant a little bit of peace of mind.

Invasive species were a different matter, though.

I bit into one of the roasted locusts.

Crunch.

Strangely enough, it tasted really good. Kind of like crunchy chicken. The taste probably had something to do with my elven biology.

A frog suddenly croaked beside me.

“Can I have some?”

I glanced downward.

“Oh. Sure. Feel free.”

The frog immediately hopped toward a bucket woven entirely from twigs and roots using phytokinesis. Inside was an entire pile of roasted locusts waiting to be eaten.

Froggy wasted no time stuffing his face.

I pointed a skewer toward him. “Just remember, if your group starts overpopulating, I’m hunting you guys too and eating frog legs.”

The frog gave me a thumbs up.

A gesture they learned from me.

I stared at him silently for a few seconds.

…The animals in this forest really had lackluster attitudes sometimes.