Immortal Druid

“My lord, you are so handsome like always,” Mab said.

I snorted as I leaned back against the wooden chair inside Jia Ping’s workshop. “You say that every day.”

“And I am correct every day.”

Ever since I learned how to create donuts from thin air through the combination of mana and qi, I had been fooling around with this strange power nonstop. At first, it was only food. Donuts became hamburgers, then french fries, instant noodles, potato chips, chocolate bars, and canned soda. After that came random objects from memory. A ballpen rested beside a screwdriver set. A plastic water bottle stood near a tangled mess of earphones. A half-functional calculator sat beside a stack of sticky notes and a cracked phone charger. There was even a gaming controller on the floor, though none of the people in this world knew what it was for.

The workshop looked less like a cultivator’s research room and more like somebody dumped the contents of a convenience store and electronics shop into it.

Jia Ping nearly had a heart attack the first time I made a toaster.

Now there was Earth junk scattered everywhere. A microwave occupied one corner. A desk fan spun lazily near the windows, literally plugged to a spirit stone that Jia Ping rigged to some contraption. Several manga volumes were piled beside cultivation manuals. I had even managed to recreate a cheap office chair with wheels, which Mab loved rolling around on for some reason.

Meanwhile, I sat at a wooden desk reading through a pile of ancient books talking about the Shén.

Xing Ning and Xing Mei had just left after Jia Ping finished examining Xing Ning. Jia Ping herself departed soon after to report to the Willow Order about my feats of creation and the possibility that Xing Ning himself might be a Shén.

That left only me and Mab inside the workshop.

There were currently three known iterations of the Shén according to the records. The oldest existed during the Dark Ages, though the information surrounding them was inconsistent and fragmented. Most of the stories read more like myths than historical records. Some texts claimed the Shén descended from the heavens while others described them as mortals who stole authority from the world itself.

The second iteration appeared during the First Era.

The third appeared in the Second Era.

And now we stood within the Third Era.

Which apparently made Li Ming and Xing Ning the Shén of this period.

And possibly me too.

Jia Ping called my power of creation something exclusive to the Shén. That realization alone nearly caused her to lose her mind. Frankly, it made me want answers just as badly.

Mab sat nearby with a finished portrait of me leaning against the wall beside her. She had somehow painted the thing absurdly fast. The portrait itself looked majestic enough to belong inside some emperor’s palace.

Now she was casually turning a Rubik’s Cube in her hands.

She solved one side.

Then another.

Then she ruined it on purpose and started over again.

I stared at her suspiciously. “Mab, what else can you tell me about this power?”

As I spoke, I gathered mana and qi together in my palm. The two energies spiraled into one another before condensing into a familiar shape.

A slice of pizza appeared in my hand.

I immediately took a bite.

God, I missed pizza.

Mab watched me chew with mild curiosity. “The energy you just used is called quintessence. Others refer to it as Immortal Qi. The name changes depending on who you ask.”

“Quintessence…” I muttered.

The name sounded ridiculously important.

I swallowed the pizza before asking, “Do you know anything about mana? That’s the other half of this creation thing. I can only make objects when mana and qi combine in a certain pattern.”

Mab shook her head. “I have no idea what mana is.”

That answer honestly surprised me.

“There were countless attempts throughout history to access quintessence,” she continued. “But after the restructuring of the cultivation path, its usage became restricted. Only the Shén remained exempt from that limitation.”

I frowned. “Then what makes me the exception?”

Mab simply smiled at me.

I immediately felt irritated.

She always did that.

Every time we approached an important answer, she either smiled mysteriously or changed the topic entirely. It felt deliberate.

“I swear you should at least give me something,” I complained. “Anything.”

This time, her expression softened slightly.

“Depending on the knowledge I reveal,” she said quietly, “the misfortune surrounding you may grow greater. The more you understand, the heavier your suffering may become. I must be careful with what I say.”

I stared at her.

That was somehow even more concerning.

Mab lowered her gaze toward the Rubik’s Cube resting in her hands.

“I would be sad to see you go.”

The workshop became quiet after that.

I remained seated while slowly replenishing qi within my body. Unfortunately, my recovery speed was terrible. Without a proper core, gathering qi took far longer than it should have. I could still store qi, but the process felt inefficient compared to actual cultivators.

More than a week passed before Jia Ping finally returned.

This time, she brought someone with her.

The old woman standing beside her possessed an air of calm authority. Her gray hair was tied neatly into a bun, and despite her age, her posture remained perfectly straight. She wore layered green robes embroidered with willow branches along the sleeves.

The moment she entered the workshop, her eyes immediately swept across the piles of Earth objects surrounding the room.

The microwave.

The desk fan.

The pizza box.

The office chair.

The Rubik’s Cube in Mab’s hands.

The old woman’s expression did not change, but I noticed the slight twitch near her eye.

“This old one is Chen Lin, Consul of the Willow Order,” she said respectfully as she cupped her fist toward me. “I greet the Sage.”

I returned the gesture. “There is no need to be overly formal. What brings Consul Chen here?”

Chen Lin raised her head slightly. “I came to confirm whether you truly wield the power of creation. And if possible, I wish to witness a demonstration.”

When wielded by a Shén, the power of quintessence was referred to as the Privilege of Creation. The wording itself already implied exclusivity.

Apparently, ordinary cultivators were never meant to touch this power at all.

I leaned back slightly while studying Chen Lin. The title of Consul sounded important. Definitely someone high within the Willow Order. Honestly, I was more surprised Li Qing was not the one here instead.

Over the past several days, I had conducted extensive experimentation with quintessence. The conclusions were straightforward enough.

I could create almost anything I remembered from Earth.

The clearer my understanding of an object, the less quintessence it consumed. Simpler items required very little energy while complex objects drained me rapidly. Food was easy. Electronics were harder. Machinery became ridiculous.

And some things were simply impractical.

Like nukes.

Technically, I suspected I could create one if I possessed enough quintessence and sufficient scientific understanding of its structure. Of course, that sounded catastrophically reckless. I briefly considered whether tossing one into outer space counted as responsible experimentation.

The main issue was that I still had no reliable method to undo my creations afterward, which honestly felt like a pretty important limitation.

I raised my hand toward Chen Lin.

Quintessence flowed through my fingers as mana and qi intertwined into familiar patterns. Moments later, a bouquet of flowers materialized in my grasp.

Fresh lilies.

I handed them toward her.

“For you.”

Chen Lin accepted the bouquet carefully. The moment she inspected it, her eyes subtly glowed with strange light.

“She possesses special eyes,” Jia Ping explained proudly. “Elder Chen Lin can perceive things others cannot.”

Chen Lin immediately coughed into her sleeve.

“Consul,” she corrected calmly. “Not Elder.”

Jia Ping blinked innocently.

“And my eyes are hardly special compared to others within the Order,” Chen Lin continued. “They merely allow me to perceive the five elements and the souls of living beings.”

Her gaze returned toward the flowers.

The faint glow in her eyes deepened slightly.

“…This power is genuine.”

There was surprise in her voice and also doubt as though part of her still struggled to accept what she witnessed.

Mab suddenly raised her hand from nearby. “If you do not need the flowers, may I have them?”

Chen Lin looked mildly confused. “I do not.”

Mab immediately reclaimed the bouquet with a bright grin before hugging it against her chest like she won a priceless treasure.

I watched the exchange with mild amusement.

From what I could tell, Chen Lin and Jia Ping were both Nascent Soul cultivators. That placed them firmly within the category of people I absolutely did not want to fight if I have the choice. I’d rather be at peace with everyone, regardless of there cultivation or what they think of me.

Chen Lin’s expression gradually turned stern. “Sage Wo Li, what are your intentions?”

The way she stared at me made it feel less like a question and more like an interrogation.

I frowned slightly. “I don’t really like your tone. You sound hostile.”

Jia Ping quietly looked away.

Chen Lin remained silent.

I sighed before continuing. “But if you really want to know, I mostly just want to be left alone. Maybe do good where I can. Help forests thrive. Help people if possible.”

I shrugged.

“And honestly, I just want everyone to be chill.”

Chen Lin stared at me blankly.

“…Chill?”

“Ah.” Jia Ping adjusted her glasses. “That is one of Sage Wo Li’s slangs. It means to remain at peace and not take things too seriously.”

“I see,” Chen Lin said slowly.

Though judging from her face, she absolutely did not see. A brief silence followed before Chen Lin exhaled quietly and composed herself. “My apologies,” she said with a small bow. “I allowed my worries to affect my conduct.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine… We all get too ahead of ourselves, sometimes.”

Chen Lin she turned toward Jia Ping. “Please lead the way to the Sky Steel Sect.”

…

..

.

[POV: Chen Lin]

Chen Lin arrived at Sky Stone Cave through the teleportation gate array.

The cavern pulsed faintly with spiritual light as ancient characters carved into the stone walls dimmed behind them. The teleportation formation released waves of residual qi into the air before slowly settling back into silence.

Jia Ping stepped out first while adjusting her robes.

“Are you satisfied with what you saw now?” Jia Ping asked. “Honestly, what you did earlier was reckless.”

Chen Lin remained quiet for several moments.

Within the Willow Order, the position of Chronicler existed outside the normal hierarchy. Even Chen Lin with her position held immense respect toward them. Though Jia Ping appeared to be a youthful maiden, the truth was that she was over twice Chen Lin’s age.

“Apologies, Chronicler Jia,” Chen Lin said respectfully.

Jia Ping sighed immediately.

“I told you already, I am merely an apprentice,” she complained. “My master has yet to ordain me with the proper title, so I shall forever remain an apprentice, because the stupid bastard just vanished like that on us. Oh, Heavens. Apologies. My nerves are getting the better of me. Just being reminded by them is making me so angry.”

Chen Lin almost smiled at the familiar response.

“I know you have always harbored doubts toward this immortal,” Jia Ping continued. “But there is no need for concern. If you are worried, I will personally keep watch over him.”

Chen Lin’s expression darkened slightly.

“My concern lies with you placing yourself in danger.”

“I will be fine,” she replied calmly, pushing her glasses against her face. “Your priority right now is confirming the existence of the Shén known as Xing Ning. I can’t believe that the Steel Sky Sect Leader kept that information about her pregnancy hidden away from us. We must gain there trust, so that we can protect Dusk this time.”

The two continued walking through the tunnel paths of Sky Stone Cave.

It had been a very long time since the Willow Order lost its soulmark upon the Shén of Dusk.

The previous generation of Shén from the Second Era brought terrible conflict upon the Willow Order itself. The resulting war nearly destroyed the organization from within. Entire factions rose against one another over ideology, purpose, and authority.

That catastrophe became one of the primary reasons the Willow Order withdrew from the cultivation world and concealed itself among isolated villages.

When an organization no longer possessed external enemies, eventually it began devouring itself.

The catalyst had been differing beliefs.

Chen Lin often wondered whether her own generation would eventually suffer the same fate.

If anyone alive still understood what the Willow Order truly looked like during the era of the previous Shén, it was likely Jia Ping, which made her existence both reassuring and deeply unsettling.

Frankly, the visit to Sage Wo Li had been unnecessary.

Whether the bizarre immortal possessed the Privilege of Creation or not changed very little about the overall situation. His existence alone already disrupted common sense.

Yet Chen Lin still insisted on verifying it personally.

Perhaps because some part of her needed certainty.

Or perhaps because uncertainty frightened her more.

Eventually, the tunnel widened into a massive cavern illuminated by rivers of glowing spiritual ore embedded throughout the walls.

Jia Ping glanced ahead before speaking.

“We have arrived,” she announced. “The Sky Steel Sect.”

…

..

.

We stopped before the massive gates of the Ruins of the Forgotten. Or at least, that was what I preferred calling it. According to the weathered signboard hanging crookedly above the entrance, the actual name carved into the ancient characters was New Willow City.

Mab stared up at the sign for several moments before wrinkling her nose. “This place needs a new signboard.”

“It’s ancient,” I replied.

“It is ugly.”

“That too.”

She placed both hands on her hips while examining the walls critically. “The city also requires a better name. Something grander. More elegant. More fitting for your magnificence.”

I immediately regretted letting her start talking.

“What would you even rename it to?”

Mab’s eyes sparkled ominously. “Mab City.”

“No.”

“The Eternal Kingdom of Wo Li.”

“No.”

“The Divine Garden of Endless Romance.”

I rubbed my forehead. “I’ll think about it.”

She smiled triumphantly like she already won.

As we approached the gates, I reached for Mab’s hand. The invisible barrier surrounding the city shimmered faintly the moment we touched it. Since the city recognized me as its master, the barrier allowed her to pass alongside me without resistance.

The sensation felt strange every time, like the city itself was alive and aware of who entered its domain.

We walked through the empty streets together while I quietly thought about the city’s future. I still had not decided whether I should allow the sapient wildlife to enter this place. The idea sounded good in theory, but the more I considered it, the more complicated it became.

Territory disputes already existed naturally within forests.

That was survival.

But a city?

How exactly would that even function?

What would happen if different sapient species began competing over districts? What if predators and prey tried living near one another? What if they accidentally activated ancient mechanisms hidden beneath the city? Do I have to make some form of government or something?

The place was already dangerous enough.

And what use did wildlife even have for a city?

Would deer suddenly start paying taxes?

Would wolves open restaurants?

Would giant bears begin arguing over property rights?

The entire concept gave me a headache.

Maybe eventually I would open parts of the city, but not yet. The various sapient communities still needed time to intellectually develop further. The recently established currency system alone already represented a massive leap for them socially.

Civilization did not happen overnight.

“Um,” I eventually said, “you can let go of my hand now.”

We were already quite far from the entrance.

Mab looked down innocently.

Our fingers were fully interlocked.

“Oh,” she said softly. “But I like holding your hand.”

I stared at her.

“It feels warm,” she continued shamelessly. “And intimate. It makes me happy.”

“…You are way too comfortable saying things like that.”

“I merely speak honestly, my lord.”

She somehow tightened her grip slightly afterward.

I decided it was not worth arguing over anymore.

Eventually, we arrived at the enormous palace situated at the center of the city. Even after all this time, the structure remained absurdly massive. Towering pillars supported layered roofs of black stone while ancient lanterns lined the pathways leading inward.

We passed through the throne room.

The six colossal statues still stood around the chamber like silent guardians watching over the empty hall.

Mab glanced around curiously. “What are we doing here?”

“This place has a library,” I answered. “I figured I should take a few books and read through them.”

“Ah,” Mab replied knowingly. “Forbidden ancient knowledge.”

“Or maybe tax records. Honestly, it could go either way.”

The library itself was enormous.

And dusty.

Very dusty.

Bookshelves stretched endlessly into the darkness while scattered scrolls littered the floor. Some shelves had collapsed entirely while others leaned dangerously sideways. The place looked less like a sacred repository of knowledge and more like a disaster zone abandoned for ten thousand years or more.

I stared at the mess for several seconds.

“…I’m too lazy to clean this place,” I admitted. “I’ll just grab a few books.”

I began scanning nearby titles.

Seven Harmonies of the Verdant Soul.

Foundations of Quintessence Manipulation.

The Forty-Seven Heavenly Paths.

Dual Cultivation for Enlightened Couples.

I paused.

“…Okay.”

Beside it sat another book.

The Immortal Tyrant’s Secret Bedchamber Arts.

Then another.

Proper Meridian Alignment During Intimate Dao Exchange.

“…Why are there so many of these?”

Mab meanwhile looked delighted.

“Oh, this one sounds interesting,” she said while pointing at a thick crimson book, the title embossed on the spine.

I read the title slowly.

“The Lustful Skeleton King’s Forty-Nine Nights of Bone-Rattling Desire.”

I stared in awe and disbelief.

“What the hell is this library?”

Mab held the book carefully like she discovered priceless treasure. “May I take just one romance book?”

“Nothing about that title sounds romantic!”

“The skeleton king may possess hidden emotional depth.”

“He possesses a pelvis!”

Mab looked thoughtful. “A very passionate pelvis, perhaps.”

I sighed heavily.

Eventually, I gave up arguing and reached toward the suspicious skeleton book. The moment I pulled it from the shelf, the entire library trembled violently. Dust exploded from the ceiling. Ancient mechanisms groaned deep beneath the floor as bookshelves rattled around us.

A section of the ground slowly split apart. Stone slid sideways with deafening force, revealing a hidden staircase descending into darkness below.

“...”

I stared downward blankly.

“…Goddamn it,” I muttered. “What is it this time?”

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