Immortal Druid

The reaper was a dark silhouette cloaked beneath a hood that seemed to swallow all light around it. No matter how hard I focused, I could not perceive its features. My spiritual senses slid across its form without finding anything to grasp. It was as though the figure existed and did not exist simultaneously.

Feeling both curious and wary, I continued following behind.

I impressed my consciousness upon the rift and drifted after the procession of souls. The reaper never acknowledged my presence. Whether it had noticed me or simply did not care remained unclear.

The journey felt strange.

Familiar faces walked among the dead. There were cultivators, disciples, and ordinary people alike. Some had perished during the campaign against the Dark Order, while others were people I only vaguely remembered meeting years ago. Yet all of them shared the same vacant gaze, their eyes glassy and expressions empty of joy, sorrow, or anger, reflecting only quiet acceptance.

Occasionally, new souls would join the procession from elsewhere, while others would suddenly depart after exchanging a few words with the reaper. I watched several cultivators from the mass grave disappear entirely, and, frowning, I finally spoke.

"Where did they go?"

The reaper's lantern swayed gently.

Its voice emerged from beneath the hood.

"They went elsewhere."

"Elsewhere?"

"To be judged."

The answer surprised me.

"Judged?"

"They must first face the consequences of their actions. When their sentences conclude, they shall be permitted to walk the Wheel of Reincarnation."

I fell silent as the thought left a bitter ache in my chest. I wanted to follow them, to see where they went and know what happened next, but something deep within me warned against it, so I remained where I was.

Instead, I tried speaking to the souls around me, yet no one answered or even looked my way; they simply continued walking. The journey stretched on for an indeterminate amount of time until an enormous gate appeared in the distance, towering beyond imagination, its ancient black walls stretching endlessly in either direction and massive doors at the center large enough for mountains to pass through.

Guarding either side stood two colossal figures—Ox-Head and Horse-Face—whose mere presence radiated overwhelming authority. The moment they moved, the gates slowly opened, and the dead began filing inside. Not wishing to lose my opportunity, I hastily transformed.

"Wild Shape: Butterfly."

My consciousness shrank into the form of a small butterfly. Flapping my wings, I slipped among the crowd of souls, managing to go unnoticed for approximately three seconds before a gigantic hand suddenly descended from above. Two fingers delicately pinched my wings, causing me to freeze. Slowly, very slowly, I looked upward to find Ox-Head staring down at me.

"..."

"..."

The giant guardian raised an eyebrow, and my disguise instantly vanished as I returned to my elven appearance. Only then did I realize that my body looked translucent and somewhat shapeless. This wasn’t truly me, but merely my consciousness. Ox-Head sighed.

"You shouldn't be here."

I awkwardly rubbed the back of my neck.

"I just wanted to see where they would go."

The guardian remained silent.

I lowered my gaze at the procession of souls.

"I felt responsible for these lives. Most of them fought beside me. I recognize them. Not all of them, but enough."

Memories surfaced one after another of long roads traversed, dangerous missions undertaken, campfires flickering beneath unfamiliar skies, and years spent hunting Dark Order operatives across the continent. I could blame Chen Lin and the Willow Order's lack of preparation all I want, but I was at fault too, for not being prepared.

"Some of them were with me during the early years. We traveled together. We bled together. Some followed me into places they knew they might never return from. I remember their names. Their jokes. Their complaints. I remember watching some of them grow stronger. And now they're dead. I know it wasn't entirely my fault. I know people die. I know I can't save everyone."

I laughed weakly.

"Everyone keeps telling me that. But when I look at them, I can't help wondering if there was something more I could have done. If I had been stronger. Smarter. Faster. Maybe some of them would still be alive. They trusted me. And I failed them."

Horse-Face barked out a thunderous laugh.

"Ha ha ha ha ha!"

The sound shook the surrounding landscape.

"The arrogance of this little guy!"

I winced.

Horse-Face pointed at me.

"Failed them? Because you couldn't bring them back to life? Do you think you are the Holy Emperor or something? You are far from it. You are merely a gnat who was granted a second chance you did not deserve. So don't think too much of yourself."

"I know."

Horse-Face snorted.

"I don't think you do."

I lowered my head. Perhaps he was right. For ten years, I had obsessed over bringing them back, and somewhere along the way, I had begun believing it was my responsibility. That I should have been able to save everyone, that I should have been strong enough. The thought now seemed ridiculous.

Even so, I said quietly, “I just want to know where they’ll go. I want to know they'll be okay."

Ox-Head's expression softened. "They shall be brought before the Goddess of Oblivion."

"The Goddess of Oblivion?"

The guardian scratched his chin. "She gives them tea. Or perhaps soup? I cannot remember."

Horse-Face rolled his eyes. "It's tea."

"I thought it was soup."

"It has always been tea."

Ox-Head grunted. "Regardless, it helps them forget."

"The bad memories?"

"The good memories, too."

I looked toward the distant souls, realizing that they would forget everything from their victories, their failures, their friendships, their families, and their lives. I swallowed hard.

"Can I see where they end up after this?"

Horse-Face immediately snorted. "You should know your place."

The answer stung.

Before I could speak again, Ox-Head gently shook his head. "Perhaps someday."

My eyes widened. "Really?"

"When you are strong enough, probably," said Horse-Face dismissively.

The guardian's gaze seemed to pierce through me. "When you possess the authority required. Then perhaps you may observe the paths taken by those who have reincarnated. But right now, you are not qualified."

"...Fair."

Ox-Head chuckled softly, then carefully released me. As he lowered me, I caught one final glimpse of the procession entering through the gates, where a familiar figure briefly turned his head. It was Sect Leader Ding Yahui. Unlike the others, a faint spark of awareness flickered in his eyes for a fleeting moment as he looked at me and smiled.

“Thank you, Sage Wo Li… for all the good you have done. Thank you for walking beside us through shadow and flame on this long journey. And above all, thank you for everything you have sacrificed for our people.”

Sect Leader Ding Yahui’s voice grew quieter, yet carried a deep, resonant warmth. “Please… continue watching over the Mortal Plane. Continue protecting those we leave behind. May your light never fade. Nurture this world with your presence as you always have, and leave it brighter and more flourishing than when you first arrived. That is my final wish for you.”

Then the spark in his eyes vanished, and they became glassy once more. Without another word, Sect Leader Ding Yahui turned and walked through the gates alongside the others. I stood there silently, watching until he disappeared from sight.

Suddenly, the world blurred and twisted around me. The gates, the souls, and the entire Underworld faded away until I found myself back inside my body. My eyes snapped open as I staggered backward, the enormous tree supporting my weight while I disconnected from the forest.

Using my staff as a cane, I slowly steadied myself, my heart pounding fiercely. Fragments of countless forgotten conversations lingered at the edge of my memory; I had spoken to those two guardians many times before, across every death, every rebirth, and every return, though most of those memories had faded beyond recovery.

A rueful laugh escaped my lips. It really had been nothing but greed. My curiosity was never justified. I had simply wanted to know whether the people buried beneath that monument would have a better life next time. That was all. I closed my eyes and turned my attention to the Dark Sun of Misfortune within me.

"..."

I stared, filled with complicated emotions, at the mere sight of the thing that had doubled in size.

"You're kidding me."

Apparently, merely learning more about that place had increased my misfortune. Wonderful. Absolutely wonderful. When I opened my eyes again, Mab was standing nearby, her face filled with concern.

"My lord, is there a problem?"

"Come here."

Mab blinked in surprise but obediently walked closer. The moment she reached me, I wrapped my arms around her. She froze completely, her face immediately turning a deep shade of red.

"M-My lord?"

I rested my chin atop her head.

"Stay still."

Mab's ears twitched nervously.

"Is there a problem?"

"No."

"Are you certain?"

"Yes."

She looked even more confused.

"Then why are you hugging me?"

I closed my eyes.

The image of countless souls walking beyond the gates lingered in my thoughts.

"I just needed a hug."

Mab blinked.

"That's all?"

"That's all."

For several moments, she stood motionless, but then her expression softened as she slowly and carefully returned the embrace.

"Very well, my lord."

Neither of us spoke afterward, for sometimes words were unnecessary and a hug was enough.

"...Sorry."

The words slipped out before I could stop them as Mab tilted her head. Only after the emotions had settled slightly did I realize what I had done: I had simply reached out and pulled her into an embrace without considering how she might feel about it.

"I hugged you without asking for permission. I shouldn't have done that."

I loosened my arms and tried to step back, but before I could, Mab suddenly tightened her hold. I froze as her face immediately became even redder than before.

"M-Mab?"

She refused to meet my eyes as she buried her face against my chest.

"It's okay. I didn't mind. In fact, I rather liked it."

For a moment, neither of us moved. Then I awkwardly patted her head, causing Mab to immediately stiffen as her ears wiggled. I almost laughed, but instead simply continued gently stroking her hair. The forest around us remained quiet; for once, even the plants seemed to understand the mood.

After several minutes, Mab finally spoke again.

"My lord."

"Hm?"

"You look sad."

"I suppose I am," I said with a tired smile. "Honestly, I think today just took more out of me than I expected."

Mab's ears drooped slightly. "Then you truly are unwell."

"Not unwell," I corrected gently. "Just exhausted. Mentally more than physically."

She looked unconvinced.

"My lord, those are usually signs that something is wrong."

A small laugh escaped me.

"Perhaps. But I'll be fine."

I gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

"I just need some time to recharge my energy, clear my head, and rest for a bit. That's all."

Mab studied my face for a few moments, as if trying to determine whether I was telling the truth.

"And if that is not all?"

"Then I'll deal with it when the time comes."

"My lord..."

"I promise I'm not falling apart."

She narrowed her eyes.

"That is exactly what someone who is falling apart would say."

I couldn't help but chuckle.

"Fair enough. Then let me revise that statement. I'm only slightly falling apart."

Mab let out an exasperated sigh.

"That is not reassuring."

"It wasn't meant to be."

Despite her words, some of the tension left her shoulders, and the worried look in her eyes softened.

"Just don't push yourself too hard," she said quietly.

"I'll try."

"Try harder."

"Yes, ma'am."

That finally earned a small smile from her.

The following days settled into a comfortable rhythm.

After everything that happened, I threw myself back into training and cultivation. Strength remained important. The Dark Order was gone, but the world had never stopped being dangerous. There were still mysteries hidden beyond the horizon, foreign continents waiting to be explored, ancient powers buried beneath forgotten ruins, and apparently an entire Underworld that managed the cycle of reincarnation.

Aside from cultivation, I devoted a significant portion of my time toward developing the Touch Grass Sect.

New Willow City underwent its greatest transformation yet as I officially changed its name to Freedom City and opened its gates. While the old name carried deep history, the new one better reflected the vision I held for its future.

The gates remained open at all times, allowing trade to flourish as visitors arrived daily and merchants traveled from distant regions. Spirit beasts and humans now walked the same streets in harmony, while new roads stretched through the forest, connecting previously isolated settlements and breathing fresh life into the entire region.

At times, I felt as though I was watching civilization bloom in fast-forward.

The sapient beasts of the forest proved surprisingly enthusiastic students.

Using memories from Earth, I spent countless hours recreating textbooks and educational materials. Mathematics, engineering principles, agriculture, biology, geography, philosophy, economics, architecture, and countless other subjects gradually filled the shelves of Freedom City's library.

The collection grew larger every year.

Several spirit beasts practically moved into the library, and I suspected they might actually live there now. Though I wasn’t entirely sure and was frankly afraid to check. Meanwhile, some of the more mechanically inclined spirit beasts eventually caught my attention, which immediately became Jia Ping’s problem. I quickly introduced them to her and then ran away before she could protest.

Hopefully, one day they would figure out how to recreate Earth’s technology; if they successfully reverse-engineered modern conveniences, I would happily take full credit, but if they accidentally blew up half the city, I would pretend I had nothing to do with it.

The city also required proper protection, so dedicated guards were assigned throughout Freedom City, with various beast clans volunteering members and several cultivators settling permanently within the growing settlement.

Even Nyx’s Shadow Elementals became involved, a development that still surprised me. They had once terrified everyone who saw them, yet now they were slowly integrating into society, some working as night guards, others helping monitor the city walls. Most astonishingly, one particularly friendly Shadow Elemental had somehow become popular among the children. I wasn’t sure how, considering it looked like a living nightmare, but every afternoon dozens of them climbed all over it while the creature patiently endured their antics. Children truly were strange creatures.

Roo became responsible for martial education and, for reasons beyond my understanding, took the role very seriously. Every morning, large groups of spirit beasts gathered in the training field, where Roo stood atop a wooden platform, signboard in hand.

"Today, we learn the fist!"

The crowd cheered.

"Why do we learn the fist?"

Nobody answered.

Roo immediately brandished his signboard.

"WRONG! Because fists are awesome! AND EVERYTHING CAN BE A FIST! SO EVERYTHING IS AWESOME!"

The crowd erupted into applause.

Nearby, Xuanwu quietly attended every lesson. The massive turtle-snake sat among enthusiastic rabbits, wolves, foxes, bears, and monkeys while diligently taking notes. Watching a legendary divine beast receive martial arts lectures from a kangaroo never stopped being amusing.

One day. I overheard Roo speaking.

"True martial arts begin in the heart."

Xuanwu nodded solemnly.

"I see."

"Then they continue into the fist."

"I understand."

"Then you punch someone."

"..."

"..."

"..."

Xuanwu slowly wrote something down, but I didn’t ask what it was. Some knowledge was simply too dangerous to inquire about. Meanwhile, education continued to expand in other areas as well. I established a school and eventually convinced Zhen Ai to become a teacher; though she initially resisted, once she discovered her students, she became unstoppable.

A fox cub nervously raised a paw.

"Teacher, why is the sky blue?"

Zhen Ai launched into a two-hour lecture, leaving the poor fox cub who had asked the question deeply regretting its curiosity. When another student inquired about geography, three maps instantly appeared; when a third asked about cultivation, several books materialized on the spot. The spirit beasts quickly learned that asking questions around Zhen Ai came with risks, yet they still adored her.

The city gradually developed its own lively daily rhythm. Merchants haggled over prices in bustling marketplaces, spirit beasts sold medicinal herbs, and humans purchased enchanted goods. Children chased one another through the streets while restaurants served mixed crowds of cultivators and beasts. A squirrel’s attempt to establish a nut monopoly failed spectacularly, but a pair of rabbits opened a thriving bakery, and a family of badgers became respected construction experts.

Somehow, it all made perfect sense. One afternoon, I watched a wolf lose a heated negotiation for vegetables to an aggressively bargaining goat. On another day, a turtle professor and a monkey engineer spent six enjoyable hours arguing over bridge construction. The city felt truly alive.

From above, carried on powerful wings in my Wild Shape: Eagle form, I soared over Freedom City and took in the bustling streets, busy workshops, schools, training grounds, libraries, markets, and homes below.

Different races, species, and backgrounds lived together. Of course, not perfectly, given the occasional disagreements, arguments, fistfights, and one particularly baffling incident involving three raccoons, a panda, and a cabbage that no one would explain.

Yet there was something undeniably beautiful about it all. Warm sunlight washed across my feathers as a small smile formed on my beak. Not gonna lie. I felt proud.

Proud of the city, its people, the spirit beasts who had embraced change, and everyone who worked each day to build something better. For all my failures and mistakes, for all the lives I couldn’t save, this at least had been worth it. Freedom City stood as living proof, and as I watched children laughing in the streets while merchants haggled beneath fluttering banners, I hoped this future would endure long after I was gone.