Immortal Druid

[POV: Nyx]

Nyx had barely survived the voyage.

The ship she had stolen was never meant to endure the waters she had forced it through. It had been constructed by mortal hands, with mortal timber, mortal iron, and mortal craftsmanship, none of which should have been capable of withstanding the fury of the sea she had crossed. Yet the vessel remained afloat through nothing but her power. Every time a wave rose high enough to swallow it, her authority held the hull together. Whenever the winds tore at its sails, darkness wrapped around the masts and forced them back into place. When the sea itself attempted to overturn the ship, Nyx had answered with her own authority and compelled the waters to retreat.

The god of the seas had clearly not taken kindly to her voyage.

By the time she reached the shore, the ship was little more than a floating corpse. Its deck had been split in several places, its mast was bent nearly to the point of collapse, and the sails hung from their ropes in shredded strips.

Nyx stepped onto solid ground without looking back. She almost regretted not accepting Guo Yimu's offer of passage along the sea route he had established. It would have been considerably safer, and she would not have needed to personally wrestle with the whims of an irate sea god.

Almost.

The alternative would have required her to cross two more continents before reaching the route.

That meant more distance, more people, more variables, and more opportunities for something unexpected to delay her. She did not possess the luxury of time. The signs she had encountered along the way had become increasingly difficult to ignore.

The primordial beings from beyond were coming sooner than they should have. Something had shifted in the world, and Nyx had no intention of arriving at the end of everything after the beginning of the invasion had already passed.

Thus, she had chosen the sea.

She had chosen the route she knew best, even if it was also the route most likely to kill her.

There were two ways to reach the Underworld. One could enter through death, allowing the soul to be drawn naturally into that domain, or one could traverse the spiritual plane and enter it while still possessing a living body. The former was simple in principle, although inconvenient for anyone who intended to return alive. The latter was far more troublesome.

The spiritual plane was not a road.

It was a vast existence layered over the mortal world, containing places that had no equivalent in physical reality. The Underworld was merely one of countless domains hidden within it. The boundaries between those places were difficult to perceive, and the paths connecting them did not always remain consistent. A traveler could walk for what seemed like days and emerge centuries after they had departed. A wrong turn could lead somewhere that had never existed in the mortal world, and some places within the spiritual plane were dangerous enough to kill beings far stronger than Nyx.

Yet there was one path that connected the mortal plane directly to the Underworld.

Nyx stood before its entrance.

At first glance, it was nothing more than a cave.

There were no magnificent gates, no divine inscriptions, and no towering statues announcing the significance of the place. The entrance was dark and narrow, concealed within an otherwise unremarkable stretch of stone. Moss grew around its mouth, and ancient roots curled over its ceiling. It looked so ordinary that a mortal could have walked past it without ever realizing what lay beyond.

Nyx knew better.

She approached the cave and stopped before the darkness.

Then she bowed slightly.

"Ancient one who sleeps beneath the roots of worlds, lend me your passage. I seek neither treasure nor dominion, neither death nor glory. I merely ask that the road beneath your ancient breath carry me where mortal roads cannot."

For several breaths, nothing happened.

Then the cave bellowed.

The sound did not merely emerge from its depths. The stone itself seemed to vibrate with the voice, and the ground beneath Nyx's feet trembled as though some enormous creature had awakened after sleeping for an age.

"Those who seek the road must speak with grace,

"Those who seek the dark must know their place.

"Your words have weight, your heart has trace,

"So walk within, and keep your pace."

Nyx smiled faintly.

"I am grateful."

"Gratitude given, passage is made,

"Enter the dark where shadows fade.

"Three questions asked, three answers paid,

"And through the ancient path you shall be conveyed."

The cave fell silent.

Nyx stepped inside.

The moment she crossed the threshold, the mortal world disappeared.

There was neither light nor sound.

Nyx possessed night vision that allowed her to perceive objects in conditions where ordinary eyes would see nothing. Her authority over the night made darkness almost as familiar to her as daylight was to mortals. Yet here, neither ability was of any use. There was no darkness to see through. There was simply nothing for her senses to perceive.

Even her spiritual perception encountered an emptiness that refused to yield.

She continued walking.

The passage seemed to stretch endlessly ahead of her, although she could not actually see the path. Her feet touched stone, and that alone told her she was moving. Time within the spiritual world flowed differently from the mortal plane, its passage generally slower by comparison. Within the Underworld, that difference became even more pronounced. A moment there could possess the weight of years elsewhere, while years could pass without leaving more than the impression of a brief instant upon the mortal realm.

Nyx had long since stopped trying to measure time in places such as this.

She simply walked.

Then the cave spoke again.

"What food do you favor most,

"Traveler wandering through my host?"

Nyx almost laughed.

"Meat buns."

The answer came without hesitation.

"A meat bun was among the first actual foods I remember eating. Its appearance was simple, almost laughably so, yet I have never forgotten it. The bun itself was soft and warm, its surface smooth and pale from the steam that had cooked it. When I tore it open, heat escaped from within, carrying the fragrance of seasoned meat, flour, and the faint sweetness of the dough. The filling was minced meat, tender enough to break apart beneath the slightest pressure of my teeth, mixed with herbs and seasoning that gave it a savory depth without overwhelming the natural flavor of the meat."

She paused, remembering.

"The best part was the contrast. The outer dough was soft and slightly chewy, while the filling was moist, rich, and almost oily from the fat released during cooking. Each bite carried the warmth of the steam trapped inside, and the juices soaked into the dough until there was no wasted flavor. It was not a delicacy fit for an emperor's table, nor was it some heavenly fruit cultivated by immortals. It was simply a meat bun."

Her voice softened.

"But it was the first food I truly remember tasting."

Silence followed.

The cave seemed to contemplate her answer.

Nyx could almost imagine the ancient thing chewing upon her words despite having no mouth she could perceive. Perhaps it was thinking. Perhaps it was merely lonely enough to enjoy the sound of another being speaking within its endless darkness.

The cave might have been older than Nyx herself.

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It might even have been older than her sisters.

That thought alone made the place one of the most profound locations in the entire cultivation world.

In this life, this was only the second time Nyx had walked through it. Yet the memories she had accumulated from previous lives made the journey strangely familiar. She had experienced this place again and again, iteration after iteration, sometimes remembering more than she did in others. The questions changed frequently. The wording changed. Occasionally, the cave surprised her.

Most of the time, however, it did not.

It always asked three questions.

"What is the color of your hair?"

Nyx continued walking.

She had long suspected that the cave possessed neither eyes nor the means to observe the outside world. That was likely why its questions were so simple. It could not look at her, so it asked her to describe herself. It could not witness the world beyond its stone walls, so it learned through the answers of those who entered.

Over countless journeys, Nyx had come to regard the cave as something resembling a friend.

Or perhaps a very old, very strange elder brother.

She liked to believe that it asked questions because it was lonely.

There was certainly nothing else to do within a cave that had existed for longer than most civilizations. Asking questions was its way of communicating with the travelers who crossed its domain.

Besides, answering was convenient.

Nyx remembered the last time she had refused to answer one of its questions. The cave had not appreciated her arrogance. What should have been a short passage had become an ordeal that seemed to stretch without end. She had walked for what felt like an eternity before finally reaching her destination.

She had learned her lesson.

If answering a few questions could shorten the distance between the entrance and her destination, she would gladly indulge the ancient cave.

"My hair is black," Nyx answered. "Not merely the black of ink or charcoal, but the dark curtain of night drawn across the heavens during a sleepless night, when even the stars seem reluctant to reveal themselves. It possesses the deep beauty of polished onyx, absorbing light into its depths while retaining a subtle luster upon its surface. When light touches it, it does not become bright. Instead, it reflects that light with a quiet sheen, like obsidian beneath the moon."

She touched a strand of her hair.

"It is the color of the night that refuses to end."

Silence followed once more. This time, it lasted considerably longer. Nyx waited patiently as the cave remained quiet. Eventually, the ancient voice emerged from the darkness.

"What is the fear that makes your spirit quake,

"The deepest terror your heart cannot forsake?"

Nyx stopped.

Her expression became solemn.

That question was different.

In every iteration she could remember, the cave had never asked her that.

A strange uneasiness settled over her.

It was frightening not because the question itself was particularly threatening, but because of what it implied. Why had the cave asked it now? Had it noticed something? Had it sensed the changes spreading throughout the world? Or was this simply another question chosen at random by an ancient existence that had existed long enough to witness countless civilizations rise and disappear?

Nyx had questions of her own.

She wanted to ask the cave why it had changed its question. She wanted to know what it had sensed. She wanted to know whether the ancient being beneath the mountain had seen what was coming.

But she restrained herself. Questions could wait. What mattered now was her answer.

Nyx lowered her gaze and remained silent for several breaths before finally speaking.

"The end of the world."

Her voice was quiet, yet it carried through the endless darkness.

"That is what frightens me the most."

She did not elaborate.

Nyx had seen too many worlds perish.

She had watched civilizations vanish beneath disasters that immortals could not prevent. She had witnessed heavens collapse, seas dry, stars extinguish, and countless lives disappear without leaving even a name behind. She had lived through enough endings to know that death itself was not the greatest terror.

The true terror was an ending from which nothing could return.

"The end of the world," she repeated softly. "That is the one thing I fear above all else."

When Nyx finally left the cave, she found herself standing upon a beaten pathway.

The ground beneath her feet was dry and firm, worn smooth by the countless beings that had traversed it throughout the ages. Far ahead, she could see the silhouette of enormous gates rising from the darkness. They were so immense that even from this distance, they seemed capable of swallowing mountains whole. The gates of the Underworld.

Nyx glanced behind her.

The cave was gone.

Nyx did not linger.

She hurried toward the gates.

The border between the spiritual plane and the Underworld was not a place she wished to remain in for long. Too many things wandered within these transitional regions, creatures and spirits that did not belong to either side yet possessed enough power to prey upon travelers. Even beings like her could die if they encountered something sufficiently foul.

She had taken only a few steps when her heart suddenly clenched.

Pain exploded through her chest.

Nyx stumbled.

Her knees struck the ground, and she barely managed to catch herself with one hand. Her breathing became ragged as an unbearable ache spread through her body. It was not an injury. No physical wound had been inflicted upon her, yet the pain was so profound that it seemed to reach into the very foundation of her existence.

Tears streamed down her cheeks.

"Mab?"

Her voice trembled.

"What happened to you?"

The Sisters of Destiny were bound by an innate connection that identified them as a singular existence. Though each sister possessed her own body, consciousness, personality, and authority, something deeper connected them. They were fragments of one existence divided into several individuals, and that connection could never truly be severed.

The death of one was pain shared by all.

Nyx gritted her teeth. Her hands trembled as fury began to replace the shock. She reached through the connection. The last moments of Mab's existence surfaced before her consciousness.

And then she understood.

Mab had perished to Yu Gan.

Nyx's pupils contracted.

"Yu Gan?"

That had never happened before.

Not once.

Across all the memories she had accumulated, across all the iterations she had endured and all the histories she had witnessed unfold, that particular event had never existed. Mab's past deaths had never occurred in this manner.

Something had changed.

Nyx clenched her jaw and forced herself to breathe as another wave of pain struck her. Her connection with Mab felt strange. It was there, yet distant, as though something had interfered with the natural process that should have followed her sister's death. The severance was not clean.

It was delayed.

That realization made Nyx's expression turn grim.

"This is bad," she muttered through gritted teeth. "Changes are beginning to appear from the known history."

She wiped the tears from her face, although more continued to fall.

"This could be good news or bad news."

She did not know which.

A deviation from history could mean that fate was finally becoming less rigid. It could mean that the future was no longer destined to repeat itself exactly as she remembered. Perhaps this change would create an opportunity that had never existed in her previous lives.

Or perhaps it meant that everything she knew was becoming unreliable.

Nyx endured the pain and forced herself back onto her feet.

She could not afford to remain distracted.

Whatever had happened to Mab, there was nothing she could do about it at this moment. Her sister's death had already occurred, and the strange delay in their connection only made the situation more concerning. Nyx needed to understand why it was happening, but there were more immediate matters demanding her attention.

Wo Li could use every bit of help he could get.

He needed to fulfill his purpose.

Nyx had not crossed the sea, traversed the spiritual plane, and entered the Underworld merely to stand around grieving. Whatever had happened to Mab, she would deal with it later.

For now, she had to find Wo Li.

She continued forward.

The enormous gates grew larger with every step until they towered over her like a pair of mountains. Two titanic figures stood before them.

Ox-Head.

Horse-Face.

The two eminent guardians of the Underworld remained at their posts, their immense forms making even Nyx appear insignificant by comparison.

Nyx approached them and bowed slightly.

"Lord Ox-Head, Lord Horse-Face, I've returned—"

She stopped. Her eyes widened. Only then did she notice what lay before the gates. Corpses. There were so many that the ground seemed buried beneath them. Nyx stared. Every corpse had the same face.

Dozens of bodies lay scattered before the gates, each one bearing a perfect resemblance to the Wo Li she knew. Some were mangled beyond recognition, while others appeared to have suffered deaths so grotesque that Nyx's expression twisted with disbelief. Yet regardless of their condition, there was no mistaking them.

They were all him.

"What happened here?"

Her voice rose.

"Where is he!?"

Horse-Face snarled and lowered his gaze toward her.

"Look at this little thing. What? Are you picking a fight?"

Nyx flinched.

The difference in their stature and aura was overwhelming, yet she forced herself to maintain a brave front. She refused to allow fear to dictate her actions, especially when she had no time to waste.

Ox-Head answered before the exchange could escalate.

"He went ahead."

Nyx's expression changed.

"You let him in!?"

She practically screamed.

Horse-Face snorted.

"He was invited."

Ox-Head added.

"Before that, he was... raising hell. As you can see, his efforts were futile. However, even his voice could reach far and wide if he shouted loudly enough. The Sovereign had deigned to invite him to learn his plight and hopefully to shut him up."

Nyx froze.

Her mind immediately filled with questions.

Why had Wo Li been invited into the Underworld? Who had invited him? Why were there so many corpses bearing his face outside the gates? More importantly, what had the ruler of this place decided concerning him?

But first, she had to find him.

This place was far too dangerous for Wo Li.

Most immortals in the mortal plane believed immortality represented the highest ceiling that could be reached. To them, becoming an immortal meant escaping the limits of mortality and standing at the pinnacle of existence. That belief brought both despair and ignorance. Those who reached immortality often stopped looking upward because they could no longer imagine anything above themselves.

They were wrong.

There was a realm above immortality.

That realm had existed since the investiture of the gods, when the divine order had been established, and beings of genuine authority had been endowed with power far beyond what ordinary immortals could comprehend.

The ruler of the Underworld was among the most powerful gods Nyx had ever laid eyes upon.

Nyx had come here intending to speak with the denizens of the Underworld, speak with the Ward, and raise awareness of the approaching threat from beyond. Instead, she had suddenly found herself facing an entirely different crisis.

"I must meet him at once."

Nyx stepped toward the gates.

She barely managed to take two steps before Horse-Face lowered his rake.

The enormous weapon struck the ground before her with a heavy clang.

At nearly the same moment, Ox-Head brought his axe down beside him, blocking the path from the opposite side.

Nyx stopped.

Horse-Face's eyes narrowed.

"You come and go as you please, little thing. Did you really think the Underworld was some roadside inn where you could enter whenever you fancied and leave whenever you pleased?"

His voice carried a mocking edge.

"You have displeased the Sovereign."

Nyx's expression hardened.

Horse-Face continued.

"Your actions have accumulated, and the Sovereign has already made a decision. There will be no more coming and going for you."

Nyx stared at him.

"What decision?"

Ox-Head's massive voice followed, devoid of Horse-Face's mockery.

"From this day forth, you are exiled from the Underworld."

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