Immortal Druid

‘Old Black’ was a name given to him by a certain curious owl.

Even now, after so many years, he still remembered the first time she stumbled into his territory. At the time, she had been little more than a ball of gray feathers with oversized golden eyes and an annoying lack of fear. She perched atop a dead branch while staring at him with blatant curiosity, despite the fact that he had already coiled himself around the tree and bared his fangs.

“Have you been to the human world?” the little owl asked excitedly. “What was it like? Were the cities truly bigger than mountains? Did humans really build rivers made of stone?”

Her tiny claws gripped the branch tighter as she leaned forward.

“And… are you truly the last of your kind?”

The question made the black serpent’s eyes narrow dangerously.

At the time, he had been in no mood for idle chatter.

“Another word,” he hissed coldly, “and I will swallow you whole.”

The owl puffed her feathers indignantly. “You’re very rude.”

He had no idea what a spark-touched owl was doing in that part of the wilderness. The forest back then had been filled with ignorant beasts that knew only instinct and hunger. None possessed wisdom. None possessed civilization. They killed, ate, bred, and died like animals were meant to.

It had not been long since he left the Emerald Verdant Forest.

Even now, the memory left bitterness inside him.

His cultivation had suffered greatly because of that decision. There had been times he nearly returned, only for his pride to stop him at the last moment. He had been stubborn then, too stubborn to admit that he missed the place.

Mostly, he missed the Old Turtle.

The old sacred beast had been the closest thing he ever had to a father. The Old Turtle used to laugh in that slow and ancient manner of his whenever he spoke nonsense. “I have always felt a turtle’s soul within you,” the old sacred beast once said. “Slow to trust. Slow to anger. Yet once you choose something, you carry it for life.”

The Old Turtle had taken him in when he was still weak and ignorant. In return, the black serpent looked after the old sacred beast with absolute loyalty.

Unlike most beasts within the Emerald Verdant Forest, the Old Turtle had once been a true powerhouse at the Nascent Soul realm. Entire regions respected him. Lesser beasts worshipped him like a guardian deity. He had been enormous beyond belief, a living mountain resting beneath the lake.

Yet he could have grown even stronger.

He could have lived far longer.

If only he had been selfish.

“The world is declining,” the Old Turtle once murmured while gazing toward the heavens. “The qi grows thinner with every passing century. If I continue to grow, this domain will suffer beneath the burden.”

At the time, the black serpent did not understand those words.

The Old Turtle had already been dying then.

Some ancient injury lingered within him, hidden beneath that vast shell and gentle smile. Eventually, the old sacred beast gave up resisting. He allowed the injury to consume him peacefully, like a candle finally burning out after enduring countless storms.

The entire Emerald Verdant Forest mourned his death.

And shortly afterward, the black serpent left.

Names meant little among beasts. Even among sapient beasts, names were often unnecessary. Titles, scents, bloodlines, and spiritual signatures carried greater meaning.

Even “Old Turtle” had never truly been a name.

Yet somehow, the little owl insisted on calling him “Old Black.” 

Worse, the name spread. 

The owl returned often after their first meeting, always noisier than before. Every few years, she would proudly show off her newest breakthrough before pestering him endlessly.

“Look! I can fly for three days straight now!”

“Look! My feathers changed!”

“Look! I learned a new human word!”

Without fail, he would drive her away.

“Leave.”

“You are noisy.”

“Go bother someone else.”

Unfortunately, the owl never listened.

Over time, the wild forest began calling him Old Black as well, and the culprit behind it all was naturally that infuriating owl.

He finally discovered the extent of her nonsense decades later.

Hidden within a clearing, the owl stood atop a massive stone while surrounded by dozens of ignorant beasts. Wolves, foxes, boars, deer, monkeys, even rabbits gathered around her like disciples listening to a great teacher.

She was teaching them stories about the Emerald Verdant Forest, things like cultivation, and even the possibility of enlightenment.

All beasts possessed unique languages tied to their species. Wolves understood wolves. Birds understood birds. Serpents understood serpents. Communication between species was crude and instinctive unless one awakened true intelligence.

Yet somehow, the owl had bypassed that limitation entirely.

She taught them through bloodline resonance.

It was a technique unique to the sapient beasts of the Emerald Verdant Forest, something refined across countless generations. Even more unbelievable was the fact that she taught it to beasts that had not even awakened their spark.

The sight enraged him instantly.

He nearly crushed her on the spot.

The owl had already reached Core Formation by then. She was no longer little, though compared to him, she still looked tiny.

“You foolish bird!” Old Black roared furiously. “Do not use my name to frighten these beasts into listening to your lectures!”

Several rabbits nearly fainted in terror.

The owl flapped her wings indignantly. “I only said Old Black would eat anyone who skipped lessons!”

“That does not improve matters!”

The gathered beasts trembled harder.

The owl clicked her beak before continuing stubbornly, “Everyone deserves a chance at enlightenment! If the Emerald Verdant Forest could thrive together, why can’t this forest?”

“Because these beasts are ignorant.”

“They won’t stay ignorant forever!”

“You are creating chaos.”

“I am creating opportunity!”

The owl had always loved human books. She collected them obsessively from dead cultivators, abandoned ruins, and stolen caravans. In Old Black’s eyes, those books poisoned her mind with naïve ideals and dangerous dreams.

The ignorant should not wield power.

Whenever fools gained strength, innocent lives suffered first. Those were lessons the Old Turtle taught him long ago. Unfortunately, reality soon proved him right. A demonic beast was born within the forest.

It had once been an ordinary tiger.

Then cultivation twisted it.

The creature devoured everything in its path while growing stronger at a horrifying speed. By the time anyone realized the danger, the beast had already reached Core Formation.

It was enormous.

Its body towered over trees like a walking hill of striped muscle and blood-soaked fur. Black demonic qi leaked constantly from its jaws while madness burned within its crimson eyes.

The slaughter lasted for months.

In the end, it took both the owl and the serpent to bring the monster down.

Even then, victory nearly cost them their lives.

The tiger was stronger than either of them individually. The owl’s wings were torn apart during the battle, while Old Black lost several scales alongside half the flesh around his tail. If not for his cunning, they would have died there.

He still remembered luring the tiger toward a canyon filled with human cultivators.

Greedy fools.

They came seeking treasures after hearing rumors about demon beasts and ancient inheritances hidden within the forest. Instead, Old Black used them as bait.

The tiger descended upon them like a natural disaster.

Screams echoed across the canyon as cultivators died one after another, desperately exhausting their techniques to survive. Spiritual treasures shattered. Flying swords broke. Blood soaked the earth.

While the tiger fed upon the chaos below, the owl attacked from the skies.

Then Old Black struck from beneath.

Together, they dragged the wounded demonic beast into the prepared trap and buried it beneath a collapsing mountain.

Even now, he still remembered the owl lying beside him afterward, bloodied feathers scattered across the ruined earth while laughing weakly toward the sky.

“We won,” she said proudly.

Old Black merely closed his eyes.

No.

They had merely survived the consequences of her foolishness.

Since being taken in by the Old Turtle, he had been taught countless philosophies about survival. The world of beasts was cruel. The heavens were crueler. Mercy existed only for the strong.

The Old Turtle taught him how to hunt without wasting energy. How to conceal killing intent. How to wait patiently beneath muddy waters for days until prey lowered its guard. He taught him when to retreat, when to strike, and when to abandon pride for survival.

“Victory is victory,” the Old Turtle once said lazily while basking beneath the sun. “Only fools care about appearances after death.”

By nature, Old Black was cruel.

By nurture, Old Black became cunning.

Those traits defined him for most of his life.

And eventually, even the foolish owl who caused so much chaos came seeking his guidance.

After the incident with the demonic tiger, the owl finally understood the consequences of reckless idealism and she became obsessed with the idea of the Natural Order. Though she never abandoned her optimism entirely, she began tempering it with caution.

To his surprise, she even repented sincerely.

“I was wrong,” the owl admitted one night while perched beside his lake. “I thought giving everyone power would naturally make things better.”

Old Black snorted. “Power only reveals what already exists inside someone.”

The owl lowered her head slightly.

“So… teach me.”

At first, he refused.

Then she returned the next day.

And the next.

And the next.

Eventually, he relented simply because her persistence became unbearable. That was how their strange friendship truly began. A flood of memories surfaced within Old Black’s mind as he slept beneath the earth.

He remembered the day he finally accepted the ridiculous name she gave him.

The owl had been quieter than usual that night.

Instead of rambling endlessly, she simply stared toward the moon with distant eyes before suddenly speaking.

“You know,” she murmured softly, “I got kicked out of the Emerald Verdant Forest too.”

Old Black opened one eye slightly, never admitting that he left on his own terms.

The owl laughed bitterly.

“It happened because I let a human in.”

She scratched awkwardly at the bark beneath her claws before continuing.

“I was curious. He wasn’t afraid of beasts, and he spoke strangely. So I learned his language. Then I talked to him. Then I learned about him.”

Her feathers puffed slightly in embarrassment.

“And eventually, he tricked me.”

Old Black could already guess the outcome.

The owl sighed heavily.

“Soon afterward, cultivators flooded into the forest calling it a secret realm. They came looking for treasures, inheritances, sacred beasts… all kinds of nonsense. The chiefs of the three tribes fought them alongside representatives from the Beast Court and mysterious cultivators from the nearby village. A lot of beasts died protecting the forest.”

“And you were blamed,” Old Black concluded.

The owl nodded silently.

“The chiefs exiled me.”

For a while, neither of them spoke.

Everyone carried stories, and some with regrets.

The owl was no exception.

Years later, another disaster struck the forest they lived in together. A plague spread through the wilderness without warning. Beasts weakened. Some went mad. Others died rotting beside rivers and caves. Panic spread faster than the disease itself.

Many believed the forest was doomed, yet it was the owl who stepped forward.

She used scraps of medical knowledge gathered from stolen human books and fragmented memories from wandering healers. She quarantined the sick away from healthy beasts, identified poisonous water sources, and searched tirelessly for medicinal herbs.

For weeks, she barely rested.

Even Old Black assisted her silently from the shadows. Some beasts survived only because the owl force-fed medicine into their mouths herself. When the plague finally ended, the entire forest looked at her differently.

That was the day she gained her title.

Wise Owl.

Much later in life, she encountered a mysterious sage, a strange pointy-eared human who eventually gave her another name. 

Willow.

Old Black slowly opened his eyes. The storm of memories faded gradually like ripples settling upon still water. He remained within his cave. Time had become strange after reaching higher realms of cultivation. Sometimes he slept for months. Sometimes years. He would awaken briefly before returning to slumber once more.

Occasionally, visitors came. Most often, it was Sage Wo Li. Other times, it was the mysterious woman called Mab, the former master of the Emerald Verdant Forest.

“Who goes there?” Old Black asked calmly.

“It’s me,” Sage Wo Li replied cheerfully. “Just checking up on you, buddy. I’m not disturbing you, right?”

Beside him stood Queen Mab herself.

Unlike before, the ancient spirit looked genuinely pleased.

“Congratulations, little snake,” she said with a smile. “You’ve succeeded.”

Old Black instinctively attempted to rise, but he stumbled awkwardly. Something felt wrong amd different. He looked downward and froze completely. He had limbs. Human limbs. Also, his skin, was a different shade of black, which was weird.

“What…?” His voice trembled slightly. “W-What happened to me? Where’s my beautiful scales?”

Mab folded her arms elegantly.

“It is the Enlightenment of the Six Paths,” she explained. “Your shape can no longer hold you back. Whether it is Heaven, Asura, Human, Beast, Ghost, or Hell, you may now walk among them freely.”

Her emerald eyes gleamed faintly.

“And should you successfully traverse those paths and overcome fate itself, you may even qualify for the title of Sage.”

She paused briefly before shrugging.

“Of course, that is less impressive once you realize it involves traveling across three worlds while surviving destiny’s attempts to kill you.”

Old Black swallowed nervously.

“I don’t know about becoming a Sage,” he admitted honestly. “I just want to become stronger.”

Wo Li tilted his head slightly.

“And why do you want strength so badly?”

Old Black remained silent for several moments, and answered quietly.

“One day… I want to fix the disorder of this world.”

Even speaking the ambition aloud felt absurd.

“The qi continues declining. Domains weaken. Lands decay. If this continues long enough, cultivation itself may disappear.”

His fists clenched unconsciously.

“I want to stop that.”

Wo Li stared at him briefly before smiling warmly.

“That sounds ridiculously difficult,” the sage admitted. “But hey, you’ve got my support every day.”

Mab nodded thoughtfully.

“Also,” she added casually, “the name ‘Old Black’ feels somewhat lacking now.”

Old Black blinked.

“You may require something closer to a human name moving forward.”

The newly ascended sacred beast hesitated awkwardly before glancing toward Wo Li.

“Then… could you give me one?”

Wo Li grinned immediately.

“Sure. But first, show us your true form.”

Old Black took a single step forward and the world blurred. Instantly, he appeared outside the cave. Cold mountain wind brushed against his skin. He looked down briefly and realized he was completely naked. Neither Wo Li nor Mab seemed bothered.

“So this is Nascent Soul…” Old Black murmured softly while flexing his fingers.

Wo Li whistled loudly.

“Damn. That movement technique was smooth.”

Mab nodded in agreement.

“Indeed. Even I am impressed.”

Old Black closed his eyes slowly as he reached inward. Power surged from the depths of his being like a tidal wave breaking free from ancient restraints. Spiritual pressure exploded outward, shaking mountains and bending clouds.

When he opened his eyes once more, his vision split strangely.

Or rather, he now possessed two perspectives.

Above the mountain floated a black turtle whose shell resembled a fragment of night itself. Ancient runes shimmered faintly across its body while monstrous spiritual pressure radiated from every breath.

Wrapped around the turtle was an equally enormous black serpent.

The snake’s golden eyes burned like twin suns.

Wo Li stared upward for several seconds as he pointed dramatically toward the sky.

“HOLY SHIT!” he shouted at full volume. “THAT’S A VERY COOL TURTLE!”

For the first time in many years, Old Black felt genuinely embarrassed.

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