[Vol. 6] Chapter 254: Decayed Wood
Time flows silently in the void.
The [Apothecary] suddenly recalled many things. His life before he became the [Apothecary], the bonds he once formed, and the reason he set out on this path.
Centuries had passed, feeling both endlessly long and fleetingly short. He walked an unending road, carrying the curse left behind by those before him, all for the sake of an almost absurd obsession. Chasing after a distant, illusory goal. Even if it meant throwing himself into the fire, even if it meant losing all morality, he did everything he could to reach it.
As he pursued his goal, he slowly became twisted, obsessive, maddened, yet pure in his singular purpose. He had forgotten his original intention, yet, at the same time, he never truly forgot it. In the end, he became a lingering wraith, forever bound by his pursuit.
The [Apothecary] may die, but the [Apothecary] will never truly disappear.
How many [Apothecaries] had there been before him?
He didn’t know. But he still remembered a different set of memories. His own past before he took on this title. Each [Apothecary] was the same, yet different. And yet, their actions were always eerily alike.
Because the very first [Apothecary], the one who had long since disappeared, had passed down a will so strong that it overshadowed all personal desires. That past, buried in the depths of history, resurfaced once more in this moment.
It was a belief devoid of selfishness, free from desire. Pure and untainted.
Medicine exists to save people. That is its purpose. That is why the [Apothecary] was born.
But then, why does medicine fail to save lives?
Why must life end?
How many experiments must be done? How many bodies must be replaced before reaching that ultimate, sacred state, the same state as Spirit Fox Shrine Maiden, and finally creating a medicine that can truly save everyone?
Human strength is so small, so laughably insignificant. In the face of fate and the cycle of life and death, it is as powerless as an ant trying to shake a mighty tree.
And so, he ran endlessly down this path, chasing after an unseen figure, an unreachable future.
Then, suddenly, a thought crossed his mind.
Perhaps… the [Apothecary] had long grown weary of it all.
Otherwise, why would he insist on venturing deep into [Mirror Valley], despite the warning from the revered Spirit Maiden?
Was the so-called "true death" she spoke of merely an empty threat?
Many powerful individuals had attempted to break into the valley’s depths, hoping to establish contact with the “benefactor”, yet it seemed that only he had truly reached this place. Even the other [Seven Heavenly Demon Lords], including [Bone Immortal], [Hidden Fog], and [Silver Hunt], had all been stopped by formidable forces outside the valley.
Spirit Veil Immortal Island had clearly prepared for this, it was beyond doubt. But why had they allowed him alone to enter the valley?
The [Apothecary] did not understand, but he didn’t care. Nothing else mattered to him anymore, except for his final goal.
Not even the life or death of his so-called "companions."
A man who had already cast aside his own life, willing to sacrifice everything in pursuit of his path. Why would he care about the joy, sorrow, or fate of others?
The [Apothecary] never had companions. There were only temporary alliances born from shared interests.
And so, he stepped into the valley alone.
Then…
Then what happened?
Ah, he remembered now.
In that vast, empty crystalline valley, like a giant mirror, he used the artifact gifted by the [Eyeless], the leader of the wicked beings. Through it, he heard a voice from beyond this world.
It was not a will.
It was not a whisper.
It was pure rhythm.
It was breathing, yet it had no breath.
It was pulsing, yet it did not change.
It wished to awaken from its slumber, yet it had no heart.
His soul trembled and wailed in the presence of that indescribable rhythm. Even the unconscious ripples of its existence could overturn the heavens and distort all creation.
In that moment, the [Apothecary] understood.
The so-called destruction, the so-called wicked beings. They were nothing more than mere ripples, tiny offshoots extending from its infinite form.
It could not be understood.
It could not be surpassed.
It could not be defeated.
It could not even be touched.
It finally understood what the Spirit Maiden’s story had been trying to tell him.
It was… It was…
The Eighth Day of Creation, the one existence beyond the cycle of life and death. The final [Apocalypse].
A colorless, lightless veil was unraveling. A will both chaotic and twisted yet boundless in its vastness was awakening with a deafening roar.
“BOOM!!!!”
It let out a sigh. But that will dissolved into nothingness, unheard by anyone.
[Ah… so this is the legendary realm that only exists in myths.]
From the sky descended a breathtaking nine-tailed fox, its silver fur shining like divine metal. Its radiant, awe-inspiring eyes carried an undeniable hostility and hatred.
An overwhelming pressure blanketed the heavens, crushing everything beneath it. Even the very fabric of space trembled, cracking apart under its immense power.
There was no doubt. This was a force beyond what could be called [Hidden Immortal], just like that girl from Cangyun Mountain whom the previous [Apothecaries] had encountered.
In front of such a being, he should have been nothing. Helplessly fleeing or dying like an insect, unable to resist.
But now… things were different.
[Is it really attached to the body of this world? How disgusting. What is it this time?]
From the nine-tailed fox’s eyes, filled with loathing and disdain, the [Apothecary] saw his own reflection.
A towering creature, nearly a hundred meters tall. Just as massive as the Fox God itself.
His human form was gone, the fabric of his clothes long since vanished. Instead, his entire body was covered in overlapping layers of what seemed to be both scales and hardened flesh, twisting and contorting in grotesque patterns.
His arms had transformed into two elongated, flexible branches, capable of bending and twisting at will. His lower body had rooted itself into the earth, like an ancient tree greedily drawing nourishment from the world. Behind him, a luminous arc rose, radiating an unnatural divinity.
He could feel his own existence, his purpose.
This was one of the final dreams of the end. The Withered Tree that would guide the world into eternal slumber.
In its deep slumber, It had bestowed this body with its power, entrusting it with the mission of bringing decay to all things.
And as the Withered Tree took root…
The first to be drained of life were none other than the [Apothecaries] scattered throughout the [Ancient Spirit Realm]. Hundreds of them, spread across the land.
Through his connection to this place, he could feel it. All of them, at the exact same moment, withering away like rotten fruit, crumbling into dust and dirt.
The Spirit Maiden had not deceived him.
The [Apothecary] had obtained the power he had long dreamed of. One that transcended the mortal realm.
But the first to perish… was the [Apothecary] himself.
Even so… the mission would still be fulfilled.
Raising its massive, twisted arms, it summoned countless monstrous appendages from the earth. They erupted violently from the ground, lunging toward the colossal nine-tailed fox in the sky, seeking to entangle and overwhelm it!
[Petty tricks!]
The fox’s nine tails flared, unleashing a storm of dazzling silver blades. They tore through the air in an instant, raining down like a celestial tempest.
The writhing, withered branches were severed and shattered. Cleaved apart in a single breath. The blades did not stop there. They streaked toward the monstrous tree itself, aiming to destroy its very core!
"BOOOOMMMMMMMMMM!!!!"
The explosion thundered through the heavens. Under the divine assault, nearly half of the Withered Tree's body was obliterated.
Its broken remains crashed to the ground, soaking in the crimson rain, melting into the earth like decayed flesh sinking into filth…
And yet, more twisted branches and gnarled trees began to sprout from the ruined husk!
[?!]
The nine-tailed fox leapt back into the sky without hesitation, evading the grotesque growths surging toward it.
Yet, the divine beast did not immediately strike again.
It could see it clearly now.
The land below, drenched in blood, was changing at an unnatural speed. Wherever the monstrous roots spread, the ground itself withered into a dry, lifeless husk.
The Withered Tree was alive, pulsing with boundless energy. But that energy came at a horrifying cost.
It was draining the very life from the land itself.
All that thrived and all that existed were being consumed in exchange for its grotesque regeneration.
Even the part of its body that had been obliterated by divine power, nearly a third of its form, was already twisting and reforming, as if completely unscathed.
This… was the ultimate creation. One that would bring death to the world.
[The Immortal Withered Tree.]
The battle between It and Her has just begun.