Immortal Druid

[POV: Roo]

Recovery efforts around the Hermit Sage Forest had begun in earnest.

Roo might have been a brute, but he was not a clueless brute. He knew he was not particularly good at complicated matters, and he had never pretended otherwise. If someone asked him to decipher an ancient formation, he would probably stare at the formation until it started making fun of him. If someone asked him to calculate the structural integrity of a building, he would have no idea what they were talking about.

But if something was heavy, Roo could help.

That was how he found himself at a construction site with a massive stone slab resting on his shoulders.

“Move!”

Several cultivators immediately scrambled out of his path.

Roo casually walked through the half-constructed settlement, carrying the enormous slab as though it were a piece of furniture. He reached the foundation being prepared by the Renewal Sect and lowered it into place.

Boom!

The ground trembled.

“That good?”

A Renewal Sect disciple stared at the stone.

“It's... perfect.”

“See? Told you I was useful.”

Roo grinned and turned around.

Behind him, dozens of mortals were working alongside cultivators to construct temporary residences. Wooden frames were being erected, roofs were being assembled, and walls were being reinforced with spiritual materials. The settlement was not meant to become a permanent city. It was simply somewhere the evacuated members of the Renewal Sect could live while their homes were rebuilt.

There were too many people for Freedom City to comfortably accommodate.

Freedom City could shelter a tremendous number of mortals, cultivators, and spiritual beasts, but even its enormous capacity had limits. The sudden influx of refugees had pushed those limits hard. Leafhome City had also been reclaimed only recently, and although many of its abandoned residences had become available, the city itself still required extensive repairs.

For a while, it had provided some breathing room.

Now, it was almost filled to the brim as well.

That was why settlements like this one were being established around the Hermit Sage Forest. Fortunately, cultivators possessed one enormous advantage when it came to reconstruction. They were ridiculously strong.

A cultivator could carry materials that would require dozens of mortals to move. They could leap onto rooftops without scaffolding, reinforce walls with spiritual energy, and dig foundations with a single strike.

Unfortunately, physical strength did not make them builders. Roo had watched several cultivators attempt to construct a wooden residence earlier. It had been painful. One of them had somehow managed to put the door on the roof.

Roo had stared at it for a long time before asking, “What is that?”

“A ventilation entrance.”

“That is a door.”

“It serves the same purpose.”

“No, it doesn't.”

The cultivator had looked offended.

Roo had eventually fixed it himself.

He was not a carpenter, but he had spent enough time around beavers to understand the basic principles of building things. Beavers did not make things complicated. They found a suitable place, gathered materials, stacked them together, and made sure the entire structure did not collapse when the river became angry.

It was surprisingly effective.

Speaking of beavers, they had become some of the most valuable workers in the reconstruction effort.

The beavers had taken to construction with enthusiasm.

They carried timber, reinforced foundations, moved mud, arranged wooden supports, and somehow managed to organize themselves into efficient little teams. Their teeth were also extremely useful for cutting through wood.

Before long, they were handling nearly half of the construction work in several settlements.

Roo respected that.

It also meant he had more time to do other things, like finding food.

He walked through a field carrying a basket filled with vegetables, fruits, roots, and various edible plants. Several mortals followed behind him, carrying even larger baskets.

Roo glanced at them.

“You people eat a lot.”

The mortals exchanged awkward looks.

“We haven't eaten properly in days.”

“Then eat grass.”

“What?”

“Grass.”

Roo pointed toward a nearby field.

“There is plenty of it.”

One of the mortals stared at him as though he had just suggested eating dirt.

“We can't eat grass.”

“Why not?”

“Because we're humans.”

Roo frowned.

“That's a terrible excuse.”

The mortal opened his mouth, then closed it again.

Roo continued walking.

“Mortals are such hungry animals, the lot of you.”

He had never understood why humans made food so complicated.

Among spiritual beasts, the situation had become complicated for an entirely different reason.

Since the opening of Freedom City and the rapid growth of civilization among spiritual beasts, eating meat was no longer as simple as hunting whatever happened to cross one's path.

The change had been especially pronounced among beasts originating from the Emerald Verdant Forest, where sapience was far more prevalent.

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Most animals now refused to kill one another indiscriminately.

Carnivores still hunted, of course. Nature had not suddenly forgotten how it worked. But most intelligent predators had developed a clear distinction between ordinary beasts and those possessing the spark.

A beast that could speak was not something they casually hunted. A beast that possessed intelligence, culture, and a place within society was treated as a fellow being. It was called decency.

Roo thought it was reasonable. He had no interest in eating someone who could complain about being eaten.

Besides, he had discovered that vegetables were perfectly fine.

When Roo was not carrying stones or helping search for food, he could usually be found patrolling the surrounding settlements. Sometimes he went through Leafhome City. Sometimes he walked through Freedom City. Other times, he wandered through the temporary settlements scattered around the Hermit Sage Forest.

He had effectively become a walking patrol.

One afternoon, Roo passed through a settlement where several cultivators were repairing a damaged wall.

“Roo!”

One of them waved.

Roo stopped. “What?”

“Could you help us with this?”

The cultivator pointed toward a large wooden beam.

Roo walked over, lifted it with one hand, and placed it into position. “Anything else?”

“No. That's all.”

Roo nodded. “Good.”

He continued walking.

Another group of cultivators spotted him and immediately became quiet.

Roo glanced at them. “What?”

“N... nothing.”

“You're staring.”

“We weren't.”

“You were.”

The cultivators exchanged nervous looks. Roo sighed. He knew why. Everyone knew what had happened at the cursed gallows. He was the only one who had been successfully resurrected from that place.

Well, perhaps there was an exception in Lady Li Qing and Guo Yume, but Roo tried not to think about that too much. The memory of the gallows still lingered in his mind. He preferred not to dwell on it.

As he continued his patrol, he came across a group of mortal children playing near a newly constructed house.

One of them pointed at him. “Is that the kangaroo?”

Roo stopped. “Yes.”

“Are you really a spiritual beast?”

“Yes.”

“Can you fight?”

“Yes.”

“Can you jump really high?”

“Yes.”

“Can you beat a dragon?”

Roo considered the question. “Probably.”

The children gasped.

One of them immediately ran toward him. “Can I ride you?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because I'm not a horse.”

The child looked disappointed.

Roo continued walking.

Behind him, another child shouted, “Thank you for helping us!”

Roo raised one hand without turning around. “Don't mention it.”

A group of spiritual beasts also greeted him later that day.

A deer bowed its head. “Lord Roo.”

Roo waved dismissively. “Don't call me lord.”

“But you are one of the Sage's people.”

“So?”

The deer hesitated.

Roo stared at him. “You can just call me Roo.”

“Yes, Roo.”

“That sounds better.”

Not everyone was so comfortable around him. Some beasts still became nervous whenever he approached. Roo could hardly blame them. He was enormous compared to most ordinary animals, and his physical strength was absurd even among spiritual beasts. His reputation did not help either.

There were whispers about the kangaroo who had returned from the cursed gallows. Some believed he could not die. Others claimed he had become something completely different after his resurrection. Roo ignored all of it, since he knew what he was. He was Roo. That was enough.

As evening approached, Roo stopped on a hill overlooking the forest. For a moment, he simply watched. Then lightning flashed in the distance.

Boom!

Thunder rolled across the forest. Roo's ears twitched. He knew what that meant. Far within the Hermit Sage Forest, the Sage was working. Every so often, the sky would erupt with thunder and lightning deep inside the forest. It had become a familiar sight to everyone living around the area.

Wo Li was bringing back the dead.

Whenever another resurrection succeeded, the newly restored individual would wander through the forest in confusion. Some remembered their lives immediately. Others needed time. Some did not know where they were or why they had returned at all.

The recovery teams would find them, escort them back to the cities, and begin the process of registration. Names were recorded. Identities were confirmed. Families were searched for. Friends and acquaintances were contacted.

Those who had nowhere to go were given temporary homes. Those who needed food received food. Those who required guidance were given someone to guide them. It was messy, exhausting, and probably going to take a very long time, but it was working.

Roo looked toward another distant flash of lightning.

“Keep going, Sage.”

He scratched his cheek.

“We'll handle things here.”

…

..

.

[POV: Guo Yimu]

The leadership of the various organizations within the Circle had never been more chaotic.

The death of so many leaders had left entire factions struggling to find their footing. Archon Li Qing had lost her memories and could no longer act as the leader of the Willow Order, leaving her people without the woman who had once been their pillar. Fortunately, they still had Shén Li Ming and Chronicler Jia Ping to rely on, and the two had done their best to keep the Willow Order functioning amid the turmoil.

The death of Sect Leader Xu Ping of the Stone Spire Sect had plunged its cultivators into mourning, yet his son, Xu Lei, had managed to hold the sect together. His father's death had been devastating, but Xu Lei refused to let the sect collapse with him.

The Steel Sky Sect had suffered casualties as well, although their losses were not permanent. The dead could still be brought back to life. Shén Xing Ning and Sect Leader Xing Mei had therefore continued to serve as symbols of strength, moving from one crisis to another and assisting wherever they were needed.

Among all the members of the Circle, however, the Serenity Cliff Sect had suffered perhaps the cruelest blow. Their recently inducted Sect Leader had perished. One of his grandsons had died alongside him. And now, with the sect's leadership vacant once again, its future had never looked bleaker.

Guo Yimu stood alone for a long while, staring toward the forest.

His grandfather had been a good man.

More importantly, he had been a good leader.

He had carried the Serenity Cliff Sect through countless difficulties and had always stood at the front when danger came. Now he was gone, and someone had to take his place.

The problem was that no one wanted the position.

Considering the string of misfortunes that had befallen the Sect Leaders of the Serenity Cliff Sect, who could blame them?

One after another, their leaders had died.

The position had practically become cursed.

Eventually, Guo Yimu made his decision.

“Father, we need to talk.”

His voice carried toward the lone hut standing at the edge of the forest. For several moments, there was no response. Then the wooden door creaked open.

A man stepped outside.

He had stubble covering his face and wore ragged clothing that looked as though it had not been properly maintained in years. His hair was unkempt, and the spiritual pressure that had once surrounded him was almost nonexistent.

This was Guo Yume.

Guo Yimu's father.

The man glanced toward his son.

“I already renounced my cultivation,” Guo Yume said quietly. “I have sworn myself to isolation and repentance. I will spend the rest of my days here, atoning before our ancestors.”

“Father, someone needs to lead the sect.”

Guo Yume sighed.

“You should lead it.”

Guo Yimu froze, unsure if he heard that correctly.

Guo Yume continued. “You are talented. You are well connected. You have accomplished things that made our people look up to you. Son, you should do it.”

Guo Yimu felt his breath catch.

'Son.'

The word struck him harder than any insult could have.

For all the time that had passed, he had not forgotten what Guo Yume had once said to him. He had not forgotten the anger in his father's eyes or the words that had been thrown at him in the heat of an argument.

“You said I am not your son.”

Guo Yume lowered his head.

“I know.”

His voice became hoarse.

“I am sorry.”

Guo Yimu stared at him, looking at his son with a mixture of remorse and sadness.

“I did not mean it. I said it in the heat of my emotions, when I should have kept them in check. Those words should never have left my mouth. You will always be my son, Yimu'er. No matter what I said, that will never change. But sometimes, blood is thicker than bond.”

Guo Yimu's expression softened.

“I will always be your son,” he said quietly. “And I will always be Guo Yute's brother. I will always be Grandpa Guo Yupin's grandson.”

His father looked away.

For a brief moment, neither of them spoke.

Then Guo Yume shook his head.

“I can't do it.”

His voice trembled.

“I... I can't lead the sect.”

He clenched his hands.

“My abilities are average. I have little talent, and even less luck. I have never possessed what it takes to stand at the front of a sect. Yimu'er, you have to do it.”

Guo Yimu's heart tightened. He wanted to lash out and call his father a coward. He wanted to demand that Guo Yume stand up and shoulder the responsibility left behind by his own father.

But he could not find it in himself.

“Wait here.” Guo Yume turned around and entered the hut.

Guo Yimu remained outside.

After a short while, his father returned carrying a long scroll. He walked toward Guo Yimu and held it out. “This scroll proves your bloodline.”

Guo Yimu frowned. “No. I don't need it.”

Guo Yume shook his head. “Use it.”

“I said I don't need—”

“The sect will benefit from it.”

Guo Yimu fell silent.

Guo Yume held the scroll firmly between them.

“As you know, your grandfather left with Consul Chen Lin of the Willow Order to accompany King Hu Gang on a diplomatic mission to the Purple Flame Sect. Things became complicated during the journey, however.”

His eyes became distant.

“Your grandfather eventually returned here carrying this scroll.”

Guo Yimu stared at it.

“Misfortune struck soon afterward. He was caught in the crossfire during the Heavenly Domain Sect's invasion. And the rest is history.”

His father's voice became quieter.

“All of these coincidences could have been avoided. Your grandfather could have remained here. He could have refused that mission. The Heavenly Domain Sect could have attacked somewhere else.”

Guo Yume sighed.

“But perhaps that was fate.”

Guo Yimu slowly accepted the scroll. He opened it. The parchment unfolded with a faint rustling sound. Blood-red characters appeared across its surface. His name was written there. Guo Yimu.

His eyes widened.

Beside his name was another.

A name he knew all too well.

Hu Gang.

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