Reborn as a Demonic Tree

Vincent couldn't help but grin despite the pain of being impaled as he looked around. He was encircled by floating islands, all glowing with different types of Qi. They had shields and what appeared to be supercharged flowers pointing his way. There were also more of those monsters created from twisted wood standing on a few of the islands silently watching him.

However, a far larger island than the others floating right before him dominated his view. It was wreathed in cosmic Qi, and he could see many cultivators, likely all part of the elusive Ashfallen Sect, staring at him with fear or surprise.

A small chuckle escaped his lips, and he placed a hand on the giant sword that impaled his body. It had clearly been aiming for his spiritual heart, but what chance did a physical weapon have of killing something spiritual?

"Is this some kind of sick joke? The Ashfallen Sect, deemed a Divine Level sect by those bastards at the Eternal Pursuit Pavilion, and this is the best you can manage? I wasn't fighting back, and with all this supposed 'firepower,' the pinnacle of your efforts amounted to this? Pathetic."

In truth, he was quite severely injured. His soul was too unbalanced, and he was on the cusp of going supernova. Somehow, most of his illusion Qi had been taken from him, and he only had a little gravity Qi left to work with. His vessel was also on the brink of death, with a lot of his spirit roots destroyed, causing him to leak Qi.

This is bad. I need to empty my soul of gravity and illusion Qi. Recultivating them in the future will be difficult when my soul is dominated by blood Qi, but it's better to focus on one Qi type when my soul is this unbalanced.

Of course, he had no plans to let his enemy know this. False confidence was a cultivator's greatest strength. If they believed him to be more dangerous than he was, they would be more cautious rather than going for the finishing blow. After all, there was no way for them to know his true state.

A hundred overlapping laughs echoed in his mind, which seemed to originate from the sword impaling him.

"You lie."

Vincent grimaced as the chorus of voices thundered through his broken consciousness. This must be the leader of the Ashfallen Sect, he thought. He narrowed his eyes as he noticed the sword through his body was being held by an ethereal-looking root extending out of the floating island before him. It's that darn tree again, isn't it?

"This land will become your graveyard." The chorus of voices continued, and it seemed the Ashfallen Sect leader's words carried meaning as he began to see illusions of himself failing... dying. "You will become nothing but a nameless tombstone, and your legend will fade in the annals of history."

"Let's see about that," Vincent said defiantly as he flicked his wrist and unleashed almost all of the gravity Qi he had left on his surroundings. The air shuddered, and the very clouds overhead dropped upon them as he increased gravity by a hundred times. The floating islands buckled under the pressure, and as their shields shattered, they plummeted like meteors to the forest below.

Within a mile radius, the only thing that refused to yield to his might was the large floating island before him. Besides its size, the only thing he could see that made it special was that the tree growing from it radiated a divine presence.

Tree, trees, more trees. How has my life devolved to the point that a spirit tree of all things is what stands in my way? He escalated the gravity further, but the floating island remained defiant and refused to fall at his feet. The strange tree on the island simply blazed with more power, and the golden hair-thin roots spreading across the island's surface glowed with a blinding brilliance. How is that possible? Vincent wondered as his gravity Qi ran out. He lowered his hand, and the air stopped shuddering, followed by his torn-up robes fluttering as the fallen clouds rose back into the sky.

"Done? If so, it's my turn." The voices said, and the ethereal root began to twist the sword in his torso.

Vincent tightened his grip on the blade and tried to shatter it, but to his surprise, the metal sword easily resisted his attempts to crack it in half no matter how much blood Qi he directed to his muscles. What metal is this made of? Wait, is this Bloodiron? That cursed metal that devours lifeforce? If that's so... Vincent smirked, "To use Bloodiron, a metal soaked in the blood of fallen warriors on ancient battlefields, against a blood cultivator is quite foolish, don't you think?"

Pulling on the sword's strange veins, he extracted the life force out of it. He felt power flood his body and laughed. He kept absorbing more and more, yet the Ashfallen Sect leader made no effort to reel back the sword or stop him. If anything, they were replenishing the sword with more life force.

Somethings wrong. Vincent stopped pulling on the sword's life force. Not only was the Ashfallen Sect Leader's lack of action suspicious, but he also realized the life force he had been absorbing wasn't healing him at all.

The voice laughed, "You fool. There's a reason they call it a cursed metal. "

Vincent looked within himself, and sure enough, the life force was corrupting him.

"The lifeforce fed to Bloodiron rejuvenates the damned souls that refused to move onto the afterlife due to their intense hatred for the living. What you absorbed was not lifeforce; rather, it was fragments of these souls."

Curse the heavens. I have only ever read of this metal in books. Who the hell would make a weapon that had to be fed one's life force?

All of the strange flowers on the floating island aimed at him began to power up.

Vincent snorted, "Do you think an attack from those will do anything?"

The voice didn't answer as beams of cosmic Qi erupted from the flowers. He quickly raised his hand, wreathed in a layer of blood, and blocked the attack. "Weak." He spat to the side, but it had been anything but. He had almost lost his hand and failed to its trembling.

This vessel can't hold out much longer. I must free myself from these roots burrowing into my body and this sword.

As the flowers powered up again, he waited for the perfect moment. As the beams shot out again, this time, he didn't block with his hands and twisted his body. The pain was immense, but he didn't care. The cosmic beams burned through his body, freeing his upper torso from his lower half, along with the mass of vines and void tendrils that had been devouring him from within.

Soaring into the sky, his two spiritual hearts pounded as blood Qi exploded from his torso and flesh knitted itself together. Now, to get rid of this cursed life force. Pulling on his link with the million mortals below, he fed them the corrupted life force invading his body that was full of bloodlust, hatred, and an aura of slaughter.

"Ah," he released a sigh of relief as he rid his ruined body of everything plaguing it. He was not in a good state. Two of his affinities were effectively gone, and he only had around half of his blood Qi reserves left. I need to move fast. His head tilted, and he looked at Red Vine Peak. Through the pathetic attempt at an illusion array around the peak, he met the gaze of the spirit tree staring up at him. Stella Crestfallen can come later. I didn't plan to go to war with the Ashfallen Sect over her, but it seems I need to uproot the source of my opposition. The question is, how can I deal with that void array?

It seemed an army of strange beings was holding back his horde of puppets. Mhm, I had hoped their presence would bring out Stella Crestfallen. Maybe if I give some of the puppets more strength, they could break through and reach the peak?

Expending a little more blood Qi, he focused on a small group on the far flank of the mountain range so they would be out of direct shooting range of the floating island.

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"Next, I should—woah!" He floated backward to barely dodge the Bloodiron sword as it whistled through the air. If not for the aura of slaughter radiating from it, he might not have noticed it in time. How did it move so fast? Spatial acceleration? The giant sword suddenly changed trajectory and came back at him. Vincent answered the attack by parrying it with a sword he hastily conjured out of blood Qi. Curse the heavens. Vincent's arms were trembling. How can he have such power and speed? It was like I just tried to parry the weight of a planet traveling at the speed of a lightning bolt.

His spatial ring flashed, and the toughest sword he owned appeared in his hand. Knowing that wouldn't be enough, he coated it in layers of blood Qi. I just need to buy time until the puppets reach the void array. Then, I can switch targets to the tree.

What followed was a brutal melee. Blood Qi possessed insane regeneration and could strengthen his body. If not for these factors, he would have been pulverized into a bloodied paste by this flying sword. Every attack he parried caused a sonic boom and explosion, and the sheer weight of the attacks destroyed his arms, just for them to quickly regenerate.

If I had my old body at its peak condition, I could handle this. But despite my upgrades, Valandor had only cultivated his body up to the peak of the Star Core Realm. I don't know how much longer I can keep parrying. Wait. What if I went on the attack instead?

Vincent's focus switched to the ethereal root holding the sword. While it was mostly being moved around by telekinesis, if he were to cut the root, surely he could wrestle away control of the sword?

He had thought it was due to the sword's size, but through their godly exchange of hits, he noticed that the Ashfallen Sect leader's technical swordsmanship was... lacking. But he made up for it with the quality of his weapon and unusual fighting style supported by his usage of spatial Qi.

It's as if he is an amateur swordsman. Quite strange, as any old monster at his strength should be a master swordsman. I can't even imagine how devastating his swordsmanship would be to face if he actually had skills on my level. I'd certainly be dead by now.

Accelerating his mind with Qi, Vincent pushed his spiritual perception to its absolute limit. Here it comes.His super fast but predictable overhead smash—Vincent didn't meet the attack with his sword. Instead, he sacrificed his arm and shoulder to eat the strike. With the sword briefly wedged in place, he swung his sword with his other arm and cleanly cut through the ethereal root.

"Mine now," Vincent grinned as he surrounded the sword with his spiritual pressure and overpowered the telekinesis wrapping it. Reaching up, he pulled the immense sword free from his body and gave it a swing. "Truly a sword befitting a god... such as me."

With the sword seized and no resistance from the last remaining island, Vincent's gaze shifted toward Red Vine Peak. His lips curled into a snarl. The group he had imbued with surging blood Qi and the cursed life force siphoned from the Bloodiron sword were pressing the advantage despite the strange warriors putting up a weak resistance, yet their advance was maddeningly slow.

The peak loomed just ahead, tantalizingly close, yet each second dragged like an eternity.

"Move faster," he hissed under his breath, his fingers twitching with impatience. I have to do everything myself. As always, I alone am the strongest. Vincent looked at the sword he had just taken and had an idea. Bloodiron is known to be one of the strongest metals if empowered. I wonder how it would do against the void? I guess there's only one way to find out.

He floated toward Red Vine Peak with the Bloodiron sword in hand. His mere approach sent ripples through the air, his spiritual presence a crushing force against reality itself. The spatial illusion array surrounding the peak trembled, warped, and finally buckled under his approach.

"Come on, Ashfallen Sect!" Vincent laughed as he swung the sword in a wide arc and obliterated the remnants of the spatial illusion and the wall of mist, exposing Red Vine Peak to the world. "What a bunch of imposters. A Divine level sect, yet you can only cower in fear when faced with a god such as myself?"

The giant eye, embedded inside the looming demonic spirit tree that dominated the peak, swiveled to look at him. It did not seem fazed by his approach, and he hated the prickling feeling as if it were stipping him down and staring straight into his soul.

"You're not welcome here," the voice said with a strange calmness as if his words contradicted his true thoughts. The Ashfallen Sect leader wanted him here.

Vincent quickly raised the sword as his honed sense of danger tingled, and he was glad he did as multiple bolts of void lightning silently struck through the air. They deleted the layers of blood Qi surrounding the sword but were unable to fully penetrate the metal before he replenished the layer of blood.

"I go where I please," Vincent sneered, his voice dripping with contempt as he strode forward. The air crackled with menace, void lightning splitting the air and lashing at him. Each bolt struck the Bloodiron sword and erased more of his blood Qi, yet he continued. Relentless and defiant, his every step was a reaffirmation of his will. He would chop down this symbol of Ashfallen and bathe in Stella Crestfallen's blood. That he decreed, no matter what fate said about it.

However, as he stepped under the demonic tree's canopy and the void lightning ceased, it was as if the world had gone silent, and he had intruded onto another's domain. His advance faltered as doubt gnawed at the edges of his mind for the first time in centuries. Here, beneath the endless expanse of branches, divine energy coiled around his feet, and that dreaded feeling of Qi that gnawed at his body was all around. To make the feeling worse, that darn eye looked down at him with seeming amusement. Somehow, despite the steel of his arrogance, a primal chill spread through his core.

I shouldn't be here.Yet... here I am. Standing before a godly tree. Vincent's grip tightened around the handle of the stolen Bloodiron sword.

"Vincent, you know deep down I won't give you what you came for," the voices said simply. "That doubt you feel, listen to it. Turn away."

Vincent smirked and kept walking forward. "Tell me, O'great spirit tree. Are you the leader of the Ashfallen Sect?"

"That I am."

"Are you also the All-Seeing Eye."

"The very same."

"Are you not going to try and kill me?" Vincent asked while balancing the giant sword on his shoulder, "I will cut you down, you know?"

Laughter echoed in Vincent's mind, "I wouldn't do that if I was you."

Vincent snorted and raised the sword like one would an axe, "Why not?"

"It would force a being that even I'm careful of to act."

"Now who's the one lying?" Vincent's voice dripped with doubt, his eyes blazing with a furious resolve. Did this spirit tree think such a weak warning would be enough to stop him when he got this far? He reeled back his arms, his muscles bulging. The air itself seemed to tremble as his power surged, tendrils of blood Qi wrapping around his blade in a sinister embrace.

"Your arrogance blinds you."

Vincent ignored the voices. As an 8th-stage Nascent Soul Realm cultivator, he was the one who bent reality to his will. To hell with fate. Die, you self-proclaimed god that took everything from me. He swung his sword at the tree with a roar that shook the heavens.

The sword cleaved through the air, a streak of crimson light, before biting deep into Ashlock's bark with a world-shaking crack. Splinters of black wood exploded outward. The ground quaked under the force of the blow, shockwaves rippling throughout the mountain range. As he drew back the sword, black sap oozed out of the cut like molten tar.

He had injured the tree.

Three more swings should do it.

"Stop! Leave Tree alone!"

Vincent glanced over his shoulder, and his eyes widened. He sniffed the air, and there was no mistaking it. The person standing at the edge of the tree's canopy was none other than Stella Crestfallen.

"So you finally show yourself," Vincent grinned with relief, "And all it took was cutting a tree. If I had known it would be this easy, I wouldn't have gone through all the trouble. Now come to me. I will leave the tree alone once I have your blood."

Stella wordlessly walked toward him, each step bringing him closer to achieving his goal. Vincent's lips curled, and he inhaled deeply. The Crestfallen bloodline lingered in the air like an intoxicating perfume. His previous doubts and fears were replaced with a hunger that clawed at the edges of his sanity. He wanted to run forward and devour her, but he remained patient.

So many plans, so much sacrifice. All for this moment. He was going to savor and enjoy it. Ah, it's better smelling than I could have ever imagined. Stella came within arm's reach, her eyes seemingly lifeless like a doll, but he barely acknowledged her. All he smelled was the succulent bloodline pumping through her veins.

His hand shot out, fingers like a steel vice clamping around her slender throat. He was ready to snap her neck, to drain her dry—but then, his grip faltered and fell to his side. The strength in his arms had withered away to nothing as though drained away by an unseen force.

What the...

Confusion flickered through his mind. His gaze lifted as if sensing the source, and to his surprise, there it was—a squirrel perched on Stella's head. Small, snow-white, and utterly unremarkable, so much so that he hadn't even noticed it until now.

But now, it was all he could see.

The squirrel's golden eyes fluttered open, slow and deliberate, like a primordial deity rising from slumber. A look of pure, unfiltered disdain settled on the squirrel's face as it regarded him—not with fear like he would expect from such a pet, but with the irritation of one forced to deal with a minor inconvenience.

Then it spoke, its voice dripping with ancient malice.

"I hate when foolish mortals force me to act."

A chill rippled through Vincent's soul. The hunger fled, replaced by an icy dread that rooted him in place. The squirrel's gaze held him captive, a golden abyss that promised something far worse than death. He suddenly knew—without understanding why—that he was no longer the predator at this moment.

He was this squirrel's prey—an ancient being that even the godly leader of the Ashfallen Sect feared.

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