Reborn as a Demonic Tree - Chapter 302: Selfish Demise

Dorian Lunarshade furrowed his brows in concern. The accursed blood invading his avatar continued to spread despite his best efforts to suppress it, and the demonic tree spreading its roots in his consciousness continued to taunt him with words and hallucinations.

“Mhm, such nice weather today, right? Clear skies and a pleasant breeze. It’s almost a shame we are fighting on such a fine night as this.”

The white fog encircling the edge of Dorian’s consciousness flashed red as it transformed into a raging storm. A sudden gale howled through his mind, rustling the demonic tree’s leaves and bringing in the storm until it entirely clouded his mind.

“I need to… what?” Dorian frowned in confusion. His trails of thought were getting lost in the chaos.

A thousand voices laughed at him. “Are you getting senile in your old age, Grand Elder? Even my Grandpa was more coherent on his deathbed than you.”

Dorian felt shivers down his spine as the storm took on a darker shade, and the wind became bone-chilling.

“Get out of my head!” Dorian raged as he cycled his Qi to fight back. None of this made any sense. He had purged this tree from his mind without difficulty earlier, yet now it felt like an immovable force that had dug its roots deep. Even more bizarre was that the storm and winds didn’t feel like illusions, as wind Qi was invading his mind.

How could this person’s presence carry wind affinity? Wasn’t the cultivator using these trees as proxies for their techniques supposed to be a spatial cultivator? Could such a powerful, unknown Dual-Core cultivator really exist?

“It’s impossible, you shouldn’t exist!” Dorian gritted his teeth, “Such a being would have dominated the war era and become a title holder known to all who walked the realm. This is either a trick or the work of a divine being.”

Unfortunately, he was becoming more convinced that he had somehow earned the ire of the latter from a higher realm. If the ash spider wasn’t enough evidence, the cursed blood infecting his avatar was resistant to being cleansed by the moonlight, which means it has to carry at least a hint of divinity.

Even if I can’t cleanse it with moonlight, I should… what… I can expel it… right? Dorian massaged his temples as he tried to form a coherent trail of thought. What a vile use of wind Qi—to invade my mind and blow away my thoughts and memories. What kind of ruthless being could come up with such a technique?

Dorian flooded his consciousness with lunar Qi to try and get a hold of himself. Sitting on the ground in a crossed-legged pose, he breathed deeply and pulled on the moonlight. “Elders, I need to cultivate to rid myself of this foul blood, protect me…”

Silence greeted his request.

“Feeling lonely under the moonlight, Grand Elder?” the chorus of voices said wistfully. “It’s often on nights such as these that one contemplates the deeper things in life. Have you ever sat in silence with nothing but the rustling leaves to accompany you?”

“Do you ever shut up?” Dorian hissed through his clenched teeth. Not only did this person keep sprouting nonsense, but every word they uttered came with another wave of illusions that tormented him. Also, the many overlapping voices made focusing on anything it said an absolute chore.

“Elders! Come back. Stop fighting the bounty hunters.” Dorian roared to the heavens with Qi-empowered words.

Still nothing.

Confused, he spread out his spiritual sense, and to his horror, he couldn’t feel the presence of a single one of his Elders. Did those bastards flee? No, that was an impossibility. They all knew that if they disobeyed his orders, their entire family branch would be wiped out for the next nine generations.

Which meant there was only one other possibility. The Lunarshade Elders had all been killed within the last few minutes. Dorian stood up in a hurry and resorted to cycling his Qi for now to try and suppress the spreading blood that was slowly turning his lunar avatar into wood.

Not only are my Elders missing, but so is everyone else. Dorian frowned. He was the only one here besides some bounty hunters fleeing to the pavilion. The Duskwalker, Frostviel, Mystshroud, and Blightbane families that had been protecting the spirit tree were nowhere to be seen. Even the giant turtle of red wood that had launched the projectile at him was missing.

“Eerie, isn’t it.” the voices laughed, “Just you and me.”

Dorian was confused. Never before had the battlefield just vanished in its entirety when he wasn’t looking. He clenched his fist before letting it hang loosely at his side. Who was he supposed to throw his fist at if nobody was here? Even the pieces of the spirit tree and the black rock ship were gone.

“What is your goal?” Dorian asked the sky, “Is this a joke to you? How can someone of your status run like this after murdering my son?”

“What strange wording. Who said I ran?”

“Then what would you call this?” Dorian gestured to the silent battlefield. Despite the craters and bloodstains, not a single corpse had been left behind. Blazing fires dotted the landscape like candle flames, and there were piles of melting ice. The Qi in the air was thick and chaotic, with many competing types at war to reclaim control over the environment.

Evidence of a fierce battle between dozens of high-realm cultivators was everywhere. So where were the people?

“All I see is an upcoming construction project,” the voice said with a hint of amusement. “Your dungeon of sin appears to have not survived under the wrath of your big feet.”

Dorian looked around, and the voice was right. This area of the city had been thoroughly destroyed, including his gambling house.

“Ashfallen Sect, right? Just you wait, I will find your hiding hole soon enough and pull you out kicking and screaming with my bare hands and make you pay for those you have killed.” Dorian said spitefully.

“I’m sure we will see each other soon, and to be honest, I would be very surprised if you could make me kick or scream.”

Dorian huffed in annoyance as illusionary screams carried by wind Qi filled his mind due to the voice’s words. Talking with it seemed pointless, so he ignored the taunting and gathered himself.

This bastard can flee all he wants, but I will end the Ashfallen Sect. I put my name and title on it as the Grand Elder of the Lunarshade family. I will not rest or falter until this spatial cultivator is dead.

Dorian pulled on the moonlight to teleport to his family’s residence. His ears popped as he reappeared in a serene moonlit courtyard.

But first, I need to rid myself of this cursed blood and restore my cultivation base. Tracking down the Ashfallen Sect, even with the help of the pavilion, may take days, if not weeks, so I should recover until then—wait, what’s that?

A slab of black rock about the size of a person floated above his residence, and Dorian could feel spatial Qi surrounding it. Someone was floating it there with telekinesis. Dorian narrowed his eyes and saw the shadow of something moving on top of it.

“Who’s there?” Dorian called out as he flexed his cultivation, “Show yourself.”

The shadow paused before it poked its head over the edge of the floating rock. A large snake with golden eyes peered down at him curiously. Its scales seemed to shimmer in the moonlight as if they were doused in ink, and strange ancient runic engravings covered every inch of its body.

“Who are you?” Dorian asked in confusion. What would such a mythical-looking snake be doing floating over his family’s residence? He stepped backward and almost tripped over something. Huh, what is this? A tree root? Glancing around, he noticed his residence had become overrun with black roots as if this place had been abandoned for years.

“Wait, where are all the maids? Why can’t I feel the presence of anyone here and the runic formations… they are all destroyed.” Dorian glared at the floating snake, “Did you do this?”

The snake looked down at him with what could only be described as contempt as if he had bothered its evening somehow.

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Did I anger another divine being? Dorian wondered.

“Welcome home! You killed my Ents, destroyed my Bastion, and hurt my people,” a thousand voices that had sounded amused before thundered in his mind, “So I returned the favor. Everyone who held the Lunarshade name has been slaughtered, and your residence has been overtaken. Branch families fell, the maids were dragged off kicking and screaming, and every heir, whether young or old, was devoured. You alone remain as the sole survivor of your bloodline. Everything you have ever cared for is gone.”

Dorian felt his heart sink as the reality of the cultivator’s words set in. The residence could be replaced, and the maids were expendable, but his carefully nurtured Elders were missing, and branch families took time to raise. Generations—centuries of effort gone in a single night. Spreading out his spiritual sense, he confirmed the cultivator’s words. There were signs of a fight here, with far more lunar Qi than normal floating about alongside pockets of spatial Qi, likely from the opening and closing of rifts.

“How is this possible?” Dorian muttered. Where had it gone wrong?

“Your selfishness was your own downfall,” the voices mocked him. “You summoned every Elder to your side, leaving the weaker ones with nothing but runic formations to defend them. All I had to do was break inside, and the rest is history—just like your bloodline is about to be.”

Dorian ground his teeth in rage, “How can you utter such nonsense to my face? Does the title Phantom Moon’s Heir mean nothing to you? I have dominated the realm for centuries, a title holder from the war era! Does my presence not shake your soul to its core—”

“No, it does not. After experiencing multiple life cycles and fighting off cultivators from all the nine realms, someone like you is nothing but an annoyance that’s in the way of my ascension.”

Dorian clung to every word, and things began to fall into place.

“I knew it! You are the reincarnation of a divine being from the higher realms! As a title holder, I wouldn’t lose to anyone in the Nascent Soul Realm in such a shameful way.” Dorian weirdly felt relief. Even if he were to fall here, he would not curse the heavens in death. Losing to someone weaker would be shameful, but if a divine being wanted him dead? What was he, as a mere mortal in comparison stuck down here on the lowest realm of creation, supposed to do against that?

He controlled multiple affinities and was able to command divine beasts. My lunar Qi cannot suppress his blood or presence, and his words carry the wrath of wind Qi. Even his Qi reserves seem unfathomable, blanketing an entire city despite being far away. Such a cultivator should not exist, as they would have dominated the war era.

“To think the heavens have taken such offense to my exploits that they have sent one of their heralds to punish me,” Dorian smiled wearily, “But if you think I will go without a fight, then you are sorely mistaken.”

“Fight or not, the outcome will be the same.” the chorus of voices declared, “By sunrise, the Lunarshade bloodline will have ceased to exist.”

A sudden and familiar weight bore down on him—it was the technique used by the spirit tree that had prevented his passage through the moonlight earlier.

“Did you think I would try to run?” Dorian grinned at the snake, looking down at him as if he were a lesser being. One of the scales near its cheek had vanished, exposing its liquid ink body beneath.

“If you think this snake is enough to defeat me, then you are quite short-sighted for a divine being—” Dorian’s eyes widened as the snake leaped into the air, and every single one of his scales flashed with golden light before being consumed.

Reality shuddered as Qi from heaven knows where gathered to form hundreds of techniques of varying affinities. The sky lit up with a myriad of colors. Blazing crimson flames, raging balls of clear blue water, howling gales filled with razor-sharp leaves… there were too many.

“What the fu—” Dorian raised his arms in terror as it felt like the combined wrath of reality slammed into him. His lunar Qi glowed as he greedily drew on both his Star Cores to try and resist the onslaught. Layers of lunar Qi he had spent countless nights interloping under the moonlight to acquire were purged in an instant, and he found himself thrown back.

He slammed through the wall of his residence’s courtyard and groaned in pain. His arms were destroyed, reduced to bloodied messes of flesh and bone. His lunar Qi weakly flowed through the mess, trying to repair the damage.

“Ugh,” Dorian groaned as he blinked away the dizziness. The once serene courtyard was frozen over, on fire, and covered in water and leaves. Large gashes also scared the floor, likely from spatial attacks.

The now scaleless ink snake sneered at him before slithering away through a portal. The piece of rock it had been perched on unceremoniously crashed to the ground, cracking the ice.

Dorian looked up to the sky full of stars. Is this the last time I will see this beautiful sight? There’s no way they would just let me go, right? A shadow loomed over him, and a spider of ashen silver and many red eyes looked down at him. Ah, the reaper has somehow recovered and come for me.

Its maw descended on him, and to his surprise, instead of turning him to ash, it picked him up as if he were a big bone and carried him across the courtyard. A rift rippled into existence, and Dorian groaned as his ears popped. The pressure changed again as he was taken through.

Thrown onto the ground, Dorian’s face ate a mouthful of dirt and purple grass. Groaning again, he looked up and saw the greatest demonic tree he had ever seen. Its charcoal black trunk rose to the heavens, and its canopy of scarlet leaves blocked the night sky. The whole spirit tree blazed with wrathful spatial flames, and a godly pressure with a hint of divinity bore down on him.

The trunk began to crack down its length before slowly splitting open to reveal an eye that contained otherworldly insight as if gazing straight into his soul. It made the remnants of his infant soul flicker and his Star Core quake.

So, this is the divine being behind my family’s eradication. I have heard of the world tree but never a demonic spirit tree with divinity…

A bubble of pure light Qi suddenly expanded out from the tree, blinding Dorian and snuffing out the remnants of the lunar Qi he had protecting his ruined body.

“Any last words, Grand Elder Lunarshade, the Phantom Moon’s Heir?”

Dorian had many questions, but the one burning in his mind was, “What are you?”

“Just a tree doing his best to protect those he cares for,” the divine being replied.

“Do you have a name?”

“They call me Ashlock.”

“Ashlock, eh?” Dorian grinned as he started going supernova, “Well, Ashlock, I always hated trees. They grow where they aren’t wanted and dare to block the lunar goddess’s loving light.”

Lunar flames poured out his mouth as his Soul Core began to break down. If he was going to die here, he would take this spirit tree and everything it cared about with him by blowing up this entire region.

“You cultivators are all the same,” Ashlock said.

Dorian felt his breath leave his lungs as something impaled him. Looking down, he saw a void tendril buried deep in his chest. Strength left his body, and he fell on his face. The light realm burning him retracted, and he was back on the mountain peak. Turning his head to the side with all the strength he could muster, he came face to face with his son’s corpse, staring at him with wide but soulless eyes.

“Albis…” Dorian wheezed out as soul flames leaked out his eyes and ears. His son’s corpse did not answer his call.

In a pile behind his son were his Elders and all his family. Though the many mortal maids he had employed were missing. Seeing his centuries of work laid out for him like this made him grimace.

The divine being had not lied. Dorian Lunarshade’s bloodline really was wiped out in a single night before sunrise. Something he had thought impossible had been done so easily.

Black vines emerged from the ground below and wrapped around his body. The thorns impaled his skin, and he felt sticky fluid begin to dissolve him alive. The pain was unlike anything he had experienced in all his life as his body was dissolved and his soul broke down.

He howled as he was dying in both body and spirit.

“Goodbye, house Lunarshade,” Ashlock said, colder than the moon’s dark side as a void tendril appeared between him and his son and rammed into his face. “You will not be missed.”

***

“Celestial Warden, Grand Elder Lunarshade has likely perished to the Ashfallen Sect.”

Tiberius frowned at his Sage Advisor’s words, “This is concerning on many levels. I intended to watch quietly from the sidelines and use Dorian to gauge this Ashfallen Sect’s strength, but to think he would actually lose.”

“Are you not glad that old fool is dead, though?”

Tiberius eyed the newest of his disciples sitting across from him in the room. It seemed that the young man was still clueless about the world.

“Why would I be? Dorian Lunarshade was a good puppet and kept the city in order when I left on business. Now, if I leave the city, who will protect it from Vincent Nightrose if he chooses to attack?”

A wave of murmurs spread through the room.

“Then what should we do about this upstart sect, Celestial Warden?” one of the more senior Sage Advisors asked while stroking his white beard, which ran down to his waist.

Tiberius stood from his seat, the scraping of his chair on the floor drawing everyone’s attention. “Dorian seemed convinced the leader of the Ashfallen Sect was the reincarnation of a divine being from the higher realms before he was dragged off by the spider. Angering such a person would be unwise. Increase the threat level of the Ashfallen Sect in our records to that of a divine and treat any members from that sect with the utmost hospitality.”

“But Master—”

Tiberius flexed his cultivation, and everyone fell silent.

“This Ashfallen Sect is potentially powerful beyond measure. They wiped out an old family from the war era without their leader even stepping foot in the city. We will keep them at arm’s length until we understand the extent of their capabilities. Do I make myself clear?”

“Is that possible, though?” A Sage Advisor sitting in the corner of the room spoke up, “They seemed antagonistic, and our bounty hunters interfered in their battle.”

Tiberius hummed in thought, “I believe they only unleashed their wrath upon the Lunarshades when that girl called Stella got injured. She was wearing the outfit of a bounty hunter and seemed after Albis’s bounty, so she is likely to understand we are not at fault for the acts of the bounty hunters.”

“We should bump up that girl’s priority level within the pavilion,” the Sage Advisor mused.

“I agree,” Tiberius nodded. “For now, we play nice until we figure out if we truly face a divine being or not.”

A wave of agreeable mummers spread through the room.

“Meeting adjourned,” Tiberius announced, and the room was vacated. In the silence, he strode to a window and looked over Nightshade City.

“It would seem a new era may be upon us,” Tiberius muttered, looking at the overgrown and destroyed Lunarshade residence on a far mountain peak. A family that had dominated the war era, commerce, and the Tainted Cloud Sect for centuries was wiped out in a single night.

All over a single girl’s life being threatened. Tiberius frowned. Such actions were truly those of a divine being. When Stella inevitably returns to hand in Albis’s bounty, I should have a pleasant chat with her. After all, she is the one who cursed my dear Nox.