Immortal Druid

The herbal tea warmed my hands as I took another slow sip, savoring the earthy fragrance of leaves I had cultivated myself. Wisps of steam drifted lazily into the crisp morning air, mingling with the faint mist hovering above the magnificent lake before my campsite. Beyond its shimmering surface stretched the ever-expanding Hermit Sage Forest, while farther in the distance rested the familiar cluster of mountains where the Serenity Cliff Sect stood. The world felt unusually peaceful.

“Ah, a day off,” I murmured, taking another contented sip. “I love this.”

“Me too, my lord,” Mab replied from across the small camp.

I let out a helpless sigh.

She merely smiled, looking absurdly excited as she prepared to cook instant ramen for me using ingredients I had created from my own quintessence. Here I was, possessing the power of creation. And what did I use it for? Uncooked instant ramen. I suppose I could simply manifest a perfectly cooked bowl, but where was the satisfaction in skipping the process?

Mab's leafy green hair gradually faded into shimmering silver as she shifted out of her Spring form. Her expression became one of utmost concentration, as though she were preparing an alchemical masterpiece rather than instant noodles. She lit the portable stove, placed a pot atop the flame, then gracefully beckoned a ribbon of water from the nearby lake until it filled the pot.

The humble packet crackled pleasantly as she tore it open, releasing the familiar scent of dried noodles and powdered seasoning.

“My lord,” Mab asked nervously, glancing between the instructions and the pot, “am I doing this correctly?”

“You'll be fine,” I assured her with a chuckle. “The instructions are written on the back, and you've been staring at them for the past thirty minutes. At this point, you've probably memorized the entire packet.”

Her ears twitched faintly before she nodded with complete seriousness.

She lowered the noodles into the gently boiling water, watching them soften and unfurl like pale river weeds drifting beneath the current. Into the broth went a handful of foraged mushrooms, several wild scallions she had picked earlier, and a perfectly poached quail egg, which, unfortunately for its original owner, had been stolen directly from a nearby nest. Finally, she emptied the seasoning packet into the pot, allowing the rich aroma to bloom into the surrounding air.

Mab tilted her head thoughtfully.

“I think it might need more seasoning.”

Without a word, I created several additional seasoning packets from quintessence and handed them over.

She accepted them with sparkling eyes before emptying every last one into the broth.

I swallowed unconsciously.

For a brief, glorious moment, I felt like nothing more than an ordinary mortal eagerly waiting for breakfast.

As she stirred everything together with a wooden spoon carved from fallen yew, Mab began humming a strangely familiar pop melody. It took me a few seconds to recognize it as something I had absentmindedly sung days ago. Somehow, she had memorized the tune without understanding its origin.

Steam curled around her smiling face.

Once she deemed the ramen complete, Mab removed the pot from the fire and carefully poured the golden broth into a polished walnut bowl. With delicate birch chopsticks, she lifted a bundle of glistening noodles and turned toward me with an expectant smile.

“Say ah.”

I blinked.

“There are two bowls,” I pointed out. “Also... I can feed myself.”

Mab's expression immediately hardened into a determined glare.

“Ah.”

I stared at her for several seconds before realizing resistance was utterly futile.

I sighed.

“...Ah.”

She gently guided the noodles into my mouth.

The first bite was heavenly.

The broth was rich with umami, carrying the fragrance of mushrooms and herbs while the noodles remained perfectly springy. Every ingredient blended together into something far better than instant ramen had any right to become.

The lake suddenly spoke.

"How curious. Does this mean you're still an infant of your species? The larger female is feeding you after all."

I pretended not to hear it.

Unfortunately, pretending accomplished absolutely nothing. Ever since the Voice of the World began growing, nearly everything insisted on having an opinion.

The chopsticks giggled mischievously.

"Look at him! He's being fed! What a pampered little thing!"

I focused on chewing.

The noodles, however, proved significantly less civilized.

"Ha! Virgin! Idiot! Absolute buffoon! Can't even eat by yourself! Pathetic! Skill issue!"

...

Why were noodles like this?

Who gave noodles the right to have personalities?

I desperately wished I could disable the Voice of the World. Living creatures already possessed enough bizarre quirks to keep me occupied. Apparently, inanimate objects were somehow even stranger.

The teacup resting beside me suddenly cried out in outrage.

"Excuse me! Sip me this instant, or I'll murder you! I'm obviously more delicious than whatever this 'ramen' thing is! What even is a ramen anyway? It sounds suspicious!"

"..."

I slowly turned away from the noodles.

Apparently, my expression had twisted into something deeply conflicted.

“My lord?” Mab asked with visible concern. “Did it taste bad?”

“Nope,” I answered immediately before shaking my head. “It's just... never mind.”

How exactly was I supposed to explain that my breakfast had just insulted my love for ramen, while my tea threatened homicide out of jealousy?

Some things were better left unsaid.

Mab looked unconvinced, so she sampled the ramen herself.

Her silver eyes widened.

“It tastes perfectly delicious!” she exclaimed happily. “I did it! I actually made something worthy of serving you, my lord!”

The pride in her voice was so genuine that I couldn't help smiling.

“You did.”

She beamed with satisfaction.

Wanting her to enjoy the meal instead of fussing over me, I reached for the second bowl and poured half of the ramen into it.

The instant I picked it up, Mab's eyes widened in alarm as she reached for my wrist.

“My lord!” she cried. “Please wait! I was going to feed you with that bowl too!”

“I’m a grown elf,” I said with an amused smile. “I can feed myself just fine.”

Mab reluctantly released my wrist, though she continued watching me as if I might somehow forget how chopsticks worked. I could only shake my head before taking another mouthful.

Honestly, the tea and ramen combo low-key kicked.

The herbal tea washed away the lingering richness of the broth, leaving behind a refreshing aftertaste that somehow made me crave another bite immediately afterward. We sat quietly by the lakeside, enjoying the gentle breeze while sunlight danced across the rippling water. I watched the forest sway peacefully, trying to empty my thoughts and achieve some semblance of inner peace.

To my surprise, the voices gradually faded.

The lake stopped commenting.

The tea stopped threatening me.

Even the noodles finally shut up.

It took me a moment to realize how comforting true silence actually was.

Several hours passed without either of us noticing.

Or perhaps I simply lost track of time because Mab had somehow gone through packet after packet of instant ramen in every flavor I could create with quintessence. Curry, seafood, spicy beef, chicken, miso, cheese... she insisted we experience them all.

Eventually, I leaned back with a groan.

"I think I've had enough."

Despite possessing no biological need for food anymore, I was somehow stuffed beyond belief. I honestly hadn't expected my appetite to be this monstrous. The experience itself, however, had been worth every bite.

Together, we cleaned the picnic area. The bowls, chopsticks, portable stove, picnic blanket, and remaining supplies disappeared neatly into my storage ring until only the large tent remained upon the cleared patch of earth.

“I’ll gather some firewood,” I said.

“I shall accompany you, my lord.”

Mab's hair had returned to leafy green as she joined me by my side.

We walked into the woods side by side.

I could have commanded the nearby animals to collect branches for me. I could have simply manipulated surrounding vegetation with phytokinesis or conjured a campfire outright with pyrokinesis. Instead, I found myself wanting to wander through the forest the old-fashioned way, searching beneath ancient trees for fallen branches and dried twigs.

Apparently, the twigs had opinions about that.

"Over here! Pick me!"

"No, choose me! I've been lying here for weeks!"

"Please... I'm already dying... At least let me become useful before I return to dust..."

Some of them were surprisingly dramatic. Following their incessant directions, I gathered an armful of perfectly dry branches with almost no effort. It remained strange. I could hear the voices of rivers, stones, trees, teacups, noodles, and even pieces of dead wood.

Yet the dead that qualified as 'people' remained forever silent.

I tried not to dwell on it.

Lately, I'd become increasingly desperate without even realizing it. This camping trip... the ramen... roasting marshmallows... pretending life was ordinary...? Perhaps I was only trying to imitate something I'd always wanted but could never truly have.

A voice suddenly whispered behind me.

"Just an imitation."

I froze.

"A poor imitation of the life you wished you could live."

My heartbeat quickened.

"You've never looked more pathetic."

Hope instinctively surged inside me, thinking of the existence within me that had gone absurdly quiet for some time now.

"Supreme Monster?"

The answer came in the form of laughter.

"Ha ha ha ha ha ha~!"

I slowly looked down.

An eye had opened upon my forearm.

Rows of sharp teeth surrounded it where eyelashes should have been, and it stared back at me with mocking amusement. Without hesitation, I engulfed my own arm in crimson flames. Pain exploded across my flesh as pyrokinesis devoured the grotesque eye along with skin and muscle alike.

"My lord!"

Mab appeared before me almost instantly, the bundle of branches tumbling from her arms onto the forest floor.

“What happened?”

Her leafy green hair transformed into icy blue as she assumed her Winter form. Cool spiritual energy flowed from her palms, suppressing both the flames and the burns before frost gently soothed the damaged flesh.

“It’s fine,” I said, forcing a smile. “I just... overreacted.”

She searched my face for several long seconds.

The blue gradually faded from her hair as Spring returned, restoring her warm smile, though I could still glimpse the worry hidden beneath it.

“My lord,” she said softly, “if something is troubling you... You can tell me.”

For a moment, I almost told her everything.

The words hovered on the tip of my tongue, heavy and dangerous. I nearly spilled it all from the eye that watched me from within, the voice that slithered through my thoughts like smoke. And worst of all, how desperately I wished it had been the Supreme Monster speaking instead, because at least that horror would have made sense. At least then I could have named the terror.

She looked at me, concern softening her features, waiting for whatever confession I might offer. Her lips parted slightly, as if to gently coax me forward.

But the moment passed. I swallowed the truth like broken glass and simply shook my head.

“Nothing,” I murmured. “It’s nothing.”

"..."

“It’s already getting dark,” I said. “We should head back.”

“As you wish, my lord.”

She quietly picked up the fallen branches before following beside me.

Back at camp, we arranged the firewood into a neat pile before igniting it. Warm orange flames crackled cheerfully beneath the evening sky as darkness slowly settled over the forest. We sat together upon two logs, listening to the insects and distant birds welcoming the night.

Mab watched the dancing flames with quiet fascination.

“Is this something people often do in your world, my lord?”

“Some do,” I answered. “I've actually been wanting to do things like this more often lately. Just... ordinary camping trips. Though that might be difficult.”

She nodded thoughtfully.

Using quintessence, I created a bag of marshmallows out of thin air.

The bag appeared with a soft pop.

I tore it open before skewering a marshmallow onto a stick and holding it over the fire.

“If Li Qing ever found out what I was using quintessence for,” I said with a laugh, “she'd probably be completely befuddled.”

Mab smiled.

“It is your power, my lord. You are free to decide how to use it.”

The marshmallow gradually puffed and turned a beautiful golden brown.

After blowing gently to cool it, I pinched the toasted shell apart. Sticky strands stretched between the halves like molten sugar before I popped one piece into my mouth.

It was sweet, soft, and ridiculously satisfying.

I extended the stick toward Mab.

“Here, have a taste. Go on. This is actually my first time roasting marshmallows, too. Just... be careful. They're kind of sticky.”

She accepted the toasted marshmallow, examined it curiously, then ate it.

Her eyes brightened.

Without saying a word, I skewered another marshmallow and handed it to her. She happily accepted the stick and began roasting it over the fire while I prepared another for myself.

“What comes next, my lord?” she asked.

“I'll probably need to have a long talk with Hu Gang—”

She shook her head.

“I meant after eating this gooey substance.”

I laughed.

“Oh. Maybe we tell scary stories around the campfire.”

Her eyes sparkled.

“Please tell me one.”

I wasn't exactly brave when it came to horror movies.

Word-of-mouth stories, however?

Those I could handle.

“Well... there's an old tale from my world called Bloody Mary.”

I told her about the legend of a ghostly woman who appeared inside mirrors when her name was spoken repeatedly in the darkness. I described nervous students daring one another in school bathrooms, the fear of hearing footsteps behind them, and the irrational terror of looking into their own reflections afterward.

When I finished, Mab simply blinked.

“That sounds like a vengeful spirit,” she concluded matter-of-factly. “One would simply hire an exorcist.”

...

That was it?

Back in high school, stories like that had terrified entire classrooms. Now, it just sounded childish. To wash away the lingering sweetness of the marshmallows, we each brewed another cup of herbal tea.

As I sipped mine, I gestured toward Mab.

“My turn is over. Your story.”

She smiled.

“I know one.”

She leaned slightly closer to the fire.

“It is about a cultivator who repeatedly ignored the warnings of an elder spirit. Eventually, the spirit became angered... and removed the man's ability to produce descendants.”

I frowned.

“…What?”

“The spirit castrated him.”

“…Excuse me?”

“He survived,” Mab continued calmly. “Unfortunately, the spirit found the punishment amusing and continued doing it to every male disciple who entered the mountain.”

The smile slowly disappeared from my face.

“The mountain was eventually abandoned. To this day, wandering men who trespass there are said to return... lighter than when they arrived.”

A cold shiver crawled up my spine.

I stared blankly into the campfire.

“…Mab.”

“Yes, my lord?”

“That was way scarier than Bloody Mary.”

She smiled innocently.

“I am pleased you enjoyed my story.”