Immortal Druid

The lessons I received from my teachers were invaluable, each filling gaps in my understanding, shaping the way I viewed not only the world but myself.

And yet…

Something still felt incomplete.

Visiting Zhen Ai helped. Her lake had become a place of pause for me, separate from the structured teachings of Willow and Old Black, and the relentless intensity of Roo. With her, things were… different.

Sometimes, we talked.

Sometimes, we didn’t.

There were days when she would take to the skies, her massive form cutting through the clouds while I followed alongside, with Willow gliding not far behind. Other times, she would remain in her human shape, and we would simply share a meal in silence.

Willow had been the one to suggest it.

A dragon’s wisdom, she said, was worth its weight in gold.

So I kept going, hoping the mysterious dragon would offer me some.

It was like every other day. Dappled sunlight fell across my face as I walked the familiar beaten path. This time, though, I didn’t come empty-handed.

Through Guo Yimu, I had acquired several storage rings from Leafhome, the nearest settlement. I had distributed the storage rings among my teachers, each containing a few items I thought they might find useful, or at the very least… interesting.

I also have one for Zhen Ai, filled with carefully selected clothes, considering how often she preferred her human form.

Oh, also a few baby supplies.

I wasn’t entirely sure why I felt the need to include those, but hopefully, it would mean something. I mean, she was carrying, so it kind of made sense to me. I didn’t know if a dragon would appreciate them, though.

My steps slowed as I approached the clearing, my gaze immediately drawn to the figures gathered near the water.

There were five of them. All of them were cultivators. Four stood slightly behind, their auras steady at Core Formation. The fifth was an old man with Nascent Soul cultivation. And in his grasp was Zhen Ai. His hand was wrapped tightly around her throat, lifting her slightly off the ground as if she weighed nothing. Her expression was strained, her usual composure fractured under the pressure of his grip.

I raised my voice.

“What is the meaning of this?”

The old man did not loosen his grip on Zhen Ai. His fingers remained coiled around her throat as though they had grown there, immovable and absolute, while his gaze shifted toward me with the weight of someone long accustomed to being obeyed.

"This matter does not concern you. Leave now, and you may yet keep your life."

I let out a slow breath and thumped my staff against the ground. The sound echoed, low and heavy, as if the forest itself acknowledged the gesture. My will spread outward, threading through roots, vines, and soil that had long since become extensions of myself.

“Thorn Whips,” I commanded. “Rise.”

They surged upward in response, tearing through the earth with controlled violence before arching high above us. Countless vine-like tendrils twisted together, weaving a living canopy that swallowed the open sky. Only fragments of sunlight filtered through, scattering dim flickers of gold across the clearing.

The thorny vines had embedded themselves deep into the ground for some time already, settling into a strange harmony with the surrounding plant life. Nothing resisted them. Nothing rejected them. After all this time, the forest and I had already reached an understanding.

I lifted my gaze and met the old man’s eyes.

"Zhen Ai is under my protection, and no harm shall come to her unless I permit it."

For a brief moment, there was silence.

Then the old man covered his face with one hand, and laughter spilled out from behind his fingers, unrestrained and sharp.

"A mere beast dares to claim a name? Zhen Ai, you say? How amusing."

His laughter deepened, turning cruel as his eyes narrowed at both of us.

"And you… what are you? Some delusional fool who picked up a stray and mistook it for something precious? Perhaps, you thought taking her in as a pet might have been entertaining, but unfortunately for you, she already belongs to someone."

I blinked, the words settling in my mind without quite fitting into place.

Belongs?

Pet?

What was wrong with this old man?

Before I could even begin to unpack the layers of absurdity in that statement, his expression turned cold, all traces of amusement vanishing like mist.

"Kill him."

The four Core Formation cultivators moved immediately. Steel rang as their swords were drawn in unison, their auras flaring outward with practiced coordination.

"An ignorant fool who does not know his place."

"You should have crawled away when Elder showed mercy."

"Now, you will learn what it means to offend the wrong people."

One of them vanished from his position and reappeared before me in an instant, his blade already descending. His speed exceeded the Core Formation cultivators I had faced before, refined and sharpened through better techniques and experience.

Still, he was not faster than a Nascent Soul cultivator.

And certainly not beyond my reach.

“Entanglement,” I uttered.

Roots erupted from the ground beneath him, twisting around his limbs and torso before he could complete his strike. The momentum of his attack halted abruptly, his body locked in place as the roots tightened.

Shock overtook his expression, quickly followed by fear.

I stepped forward and placed a hand against his face.

“Slumber Pollen,” I cast.

A faint shimmer passed between us. His struggles weakened almost instantly, his eyes losing focus before rolling back entirely as his body went limp within the grasp of the roots.

This spell had always been unreliable at range, frustratingly so, failing more often than it succeeded against those at or above Core Formation. However, direct contact changed everything. With touch, innate resistance became the only deciding factor.

And his was not enough.

The remaining cultivators surrounded, seemingly frustrated that one of their own was taken down just like that.

"Damn it, he dropped like a moth to the flame!"

"What kind of trick was that?!"

"Stay focused, do not underestimate him!"

Three of them remained, and this time they did not hesitate. They moved together, converging from different directions with precise timing as they declared their technique.

"Formation: Severing Wheel!"

Their qi surged and intertwined, forming a rotating pattern around them as they advanced. Blades aligned, movements synchronized, their presence transforming into something resembling a spinning wheel of steel, intent on crushing anything caught within.

It was a single decisive strike coming from three directions.

That was what it looked like.

“Wild Shape: Primal Nature Elemental.”

The transformation spread across my body in an instant. My skin took on a silvered, wooden texture, smooth yet unyielding, while faint veins of green light pulsed beneath the surface. Flowers bloomed along the edges of my robes, their petals unfurling as though awakened by an unseen spring.

The impact came with a resounding thunk.

Their combined strike landed, yet it failed to cut through. The force dispersed against my transformed body, absorbed rather than resisted.

They had more techniques, I was certain of that. Flashier ones, perhaps even dangerous if given the chance to unfold.

I did not intend to give them that chance.

The Thorn Whips above shifted, their color paling into an ivory hue as my strengthened connection through Primal Nature Elemental poured power into them. They descended like judgment, swift and merciless.

Each vine snapped downward, wrapping around limbs, torsos, and weapons before the cultivators could disengage. The force alone was enough to crush Core Formation defenses, and here it was used merely to restrain.

They struggled, but it did not matter.

I walked up to each of them in turn, placing a hand against their heads.

“Slumber Pollen,” I repeated.

One by one, their bodies slackened, their resistance fading into nothing as they joined their fallen companion in unconsciousness.

The clearing grew quiet again.

I turned back to the old man, meeting his gaze beneath the dim canopy of living vines.

"There is no need for this to get violent. Let us talk."

The old man studied me more carefully this time, his earlier amusement vanishing as he addressed me. "A hidden expert of your caliber must have some renown. Tell me, who are you?"

I did not answer him immediately. My gaze shifted instead to Zhen Ai in his firm grip.

Something was wrong.

Her eyes, which were usually clear and quietly observant, had turned glassy. There was no recognition in them, no curiosity, no subtle warmth that I had come to associate with her presence. She looked… empty. Not unconscious, not resisting, just there, suspended like a puppet waiting for its strings to be pulled.

A faint unease crept into my chest.

"What happened to her? She is roughly at the same cultivation as you, but she is not fighting back. Why?"

The old man did not hesitate.

"It is a binding spell that allows me to control her. Is this enough proof of my sect’s ownership of her?"

Ownership? The word landed poorly on my ears.

"But you cannot own her. She is a person—"

The old man guffawed loudly, his laughter cutting through my words without restraint.

"Person? Her? She is a beast! Hah! I see now. You are of a different race, are you not? Pointed ears, strange spells, and barely any spiritual pressure to speak of. Curious. I wonder what species you belong to."

His eyes narrowed slightly, though not with hostility. It felt more like idle curiosity, the kind one might show toward an unfamiliar insect.

"Regardless, I have no desire to quarrel over you. I am only here to retrieve what is ours. My sect is powerful, and its reach is vast. I suggest you think very carefully before you do anything reckless."

There it was again.

Ours?

I exhaled slowly, forcing my thoughts to settle despite the growing irritation gnawing at the edges of my mind.

"Can you enlighten me on how you have come to the ownership of this… woman?"

The old man sighed, as though burdened by my ignorance.

"You truly do not know your place, do you? Though I suppose that is to be expected in a backwater such as this, one that has not seen an Immortal or even a Soul Transformation cultivator for ages."

He straightened slightly, his tone shifting into something almost performative.

"Very well. I shall display magnanimity and enlighten you. This woman is the daughter of the Sea Dragon King. She was gifted to my sect by the Sea Dragon Palace as part of a transaction."

His lips curled faintly.

"If you still insist on opposing me, you will not only offend my sect, but the Sea Dragon King himself. This insignificant domain of yours would be drowned beneath the sea, while heavenly lightning descends upon it from my Heavenly Domain Sect. I have no time to waste here. This bitch must be disciplined so that she may continue fulfilling her duties. Her dragon bloodline is of immense value to my sect. Her scales, bones, tendons, and marrow are resources that will sustain us for years."

My stomach twisted as the old man continued.

"Better yet, if she can be bred, the benefits would be even greater. Do you understand now how valuable she is?"

The words lingered in the air, heavy and suffocating.

It reminded me of Shén and how a certain Li Ming was almost kidnappened by another power. It was the same logic. The same detachment. The same way a living, thinking being was reduced to nothing more than a collection of materials and potential output.

Something about it made my blood boil.

Where was the balance in any of this?

It felt absurd.

It felt wrong!

The old man suddenly paused, his gaze dropping to Zhen Ai’s abdomen. His expression shifted instantly, fury igniting within his eyes.

"What is this? She is… pregnant! Did you do this?"

His killing intent flared, sharp and immediate, directed squarely at me.

"No," I said.

"Do not lie to me, boy. You dare defile what belongs to my sect? Hmph… no matter. This can be dealt with later. Release my subordinates at once."

The demand came cold and absolute, as though my compliance was already assumed.

I raised my hand slightly.

The Thorn Whips responded.

They slithered across the ground and coiled around the necks of the unconscious cultivators, tightening just enough to lift them slightly off the earth. Their bodies dangled limply, swaying under the dim canopy of ivory vines.

"No," I said.

There was no flourish.

No hesitation.

The Thorn Whips constricted.

In a single, precise motion, their heads separated cleanly from their bodies. The cut was so smooth that for a brief instant, nothing seemed to happen.

Then blood followed.

Their corpses collapsed back onto the ground, lifeless and still, while their severed heads rolled quietly across the forest floor.

The clearing fell silent once more.

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