The Druid Who Devoured the Great Nature

‘That’s….’

Every part of his body pulsed as if each limb had its own will.

It was a grotesque scene that made my brow furrow.

Even in FP’s world, where all sorts of monsters roamed, that kind of phenomenon didn’t belong to the realm of abilities.

There were creatures said to have three lives, but none whose flesh swelled and shrank of its own accord.

That wasn’t some innate talent—it was an artificial effect.

I knew this because I had already faced an enemy who underwent such a transformation.

「The World Tree declares with certainty—that’s it.」

The leaves perked up, pointing as if with a finger.

‘A Spirit Cocoon.’

That was the moment I became certain Greenwood’s request was indeed tied to spirits.

“Keljid!”

Hella shouted, her eyes bloodshot.

She looked ready to hurl herself forward, but Waver stopped her.

“Why! That bastard killed Keljid…!”

“I’m not saying I’m not pissed. I agree he deserves to die.”

His usually playful voice had turned chilling.

Keljid hadn’t been an actual member of the mercenaries, just a tower mage on loan.

But when introducing him, Hella had called him one of their own.

That meant she’d grown attached.

Hired killers might be solitary, but mercenaries shared camaraderie.

Even if the mission succeeded, if a comrade died, revenge was the only conclusion.

“But you’ll understand, yeah? This is the business of our mercenary band. Right?”

Waver glanced at me, then jerked his chin.

“Mission’s over. Go make your report.”

“And you two?”

“We kill that bastard and then follow.”

Just as expected.

I shook my head.

“And walk all the way back to the 3rd District with no ride?”

“Oi, hand over the keys.”

“Figure of speech.”

So even jokes didn’t land with him now.

That much blood had gone to his head.

“I’m the one who let him slip. I’ll help.”

The Spirit Cocoon was lodged in that man’s body.

Even if Hella and Waver pulled out, I would’ve had to fight him alone.

With them, this was an opportunity.

“Khkhkh, I’ll tear you wretches apart. You think I’m some snack pulled from a bag?”

The squad leader shook with laughter, his swollen frame heaving like a house about to collapse.

His slit pupils swept across us one by one.

“I told you none of you are leaving. Don’t worry—I’ll show you all a taste of hell.”

“You seem to have forgotten what happened when you fought me.”

“I was careless.”

I smirked despite myself.

“Excuses are endless. And without underlings, what can you do?”

“Whether it’s an excuse or not, you’ll find out with your body.”

It wasn’t sentiment that had made him listen to our chatter.

No, he had needed the time—to get his mutated body under control.

Whooom!

He lunged in the blink of an eye.

From his thigh muscles tensing to the soles driving off the ground, every step of the motion was instantaneous.

“Not so fast!”

Claaang!

Hella intercepted him.

Her spear’s path split like a prism, striking from multiple angles at once.

That viciously efficient thrust forced him to kill his momentum and halt.

Swish!

And Waver flowed in right after.

His short blades darted between the gaps of Hella’s sweeping arcs, filling every blind spot.

A veteran’s precision—striking exactly where it hurt.

Hella was a fine warrior, but Waver had years of experience layered on top.

Their movements weren’t rehearsed, but the coordination was seamless.

The power of the Drexier Mercenaries.

Craack!

“….!”

“Tch!”

Yet the enemy didn’t counter with finesse.

He simply shattered their combined assault.

A stomp and a swipe broke through their deadly rhythm as if a tank had crushed a barricade.

Forced back, Hella and Waver lost every hard-earned advantage in an instant.

‘Amplified physical ability.’

The Spirit Cocoon embedded in his body was lending him that power.

‘A mere goblin once smashed buildings just by sheer size.’

But this was no goblin—this was a trained soldier.

The value of those implants couldn’t even be compared.

‘And he’s more stable now?’

Before, his body swelled uncontrollably, oozing like liquid.

Now the convulsions were rare, mostly compressed back into a normal shape.

If Centrim truly was the shadow behind these cocoons… then of course progress had been made.

A megacorp’s resources and reach were limitless.

Rumbleee!

The clash of superhumans warped the very environment.

Stray shards of mana shattered walls, splitting the ground apart.

The killing intent carried on the wind stung like blades.

There was no way for me to jump in.

Each step was a calculated strike, each breath part of the battle.

Anyone weaker would only get in the way.

That was how high-level this fight was.

Clang!

“Waver!”

“Don’t mind me!”

The first crack came from the weapons.

Waver’s dagger snapped under the strain.

He drew another and pressed the assault, but a gap had already formed.

Slice!

A rising palm split his chest open.

Even the protective vest beneath shredded like paper.

Though it was only a knife-hand strike, sparks flashed.

Then a kick to the chest sent Waver skidding across the ground, bouncing again and again.

“Hrrraaaah!”

Hella swung wildly, desperate to cover his absence.

Their two-on-one assault had become a desperate scramble.

Throwing her body recklessly into the fight, she managed to hold the line… but only for a moment.

Thudd!

“Guhhh!”

The shockwave rippled out in concentric circles, tearing up the earth.

Hella went flying like a ragdoll, slamming into a stone wall and crumpling.

She wasn’t dead, but she wouldn’t be getting up quickly.

Now it was just me.

The beast bared his fangs at me, growling.

“Enjoyed the show? Now it’s your turn. Tremble and wait.”

His voice was soaked in bloodlust, like the roar of a predator.

Quadrapple indeed.

With a warrior’s foundation bolstered by the Spirit Cocoon, he carried the air of a veteran warlord.

And… the truth I had pieced together explained his strength.

“So that’s what you are.”

I spoke calmly.

The claw marks raked across Waver’s chest.

The slit pupils.

The elongating muzzle, the bestial growl.

The clues were enough.

“A Werebeast.”

A beastkin, whose very genes carried the traits of animals.

That was his true nature.

“Kekeke. And what, now you’re afraid?”

“No.”

Among FP’s myriad races, Werebeasts ranked at the top in sheer danger.

Even ignoring their claws, their predator’s muscles and explosive agility made their whole bodies weapons.

And they were natural-born warriors, able to wield mana innately.

A treasure in any field that valued combat.

“Why would a man fear a dog? Toss a snack and you’ll just drool and beg.”

“…..”

His jaw locked shut.

Blood burst in the whites of his yellow eyes.

With a snarl, he bared his fangs.

“…I’ll eat your flesh raw.”

“Typical beast—filthy and crude. Shut that stinking muzzle.”

To make an enemy of a Werebeast was a dangerous choice.

They were relentless and terrifying by nature.

But my provocation came from confidence.

‘I’ve fought plenty of Werebeasts.’

Rare in number, but always present at critical points of the scenario.

I had experience.

I knew their patterns.

‘And this one isn’t even pureblood.’

Pureblood Werebeasts were nearly extinct, but they had the discipline to control their instincts.

This one was restraining himself just to avoid losing form—proof his diluted blood couldn’t fully harness the beast within.

My taunt was aimed at just that.

The truly dangerous ones were warriors who mastered mana, not mere beasts driven by instinct.

“A mutt that drinks men’s blood like a parasite shouldn’t dare to bare its fangs at its master.”

“……!”

The rivalry between vampires and werebeasts was well-known.

And the victors had always been the vampires.

No beast could overcome the vampire nobles, who wielded both wealth and power.

It was only because city leaders saw them as a threat that vampires had been branded monsters and forced into the shadows.

But that didn’t erase the inferiority and humiliation werebeasts carried toward them.

I had pointed out the shame of his race’s history.

Unable to swallow the insult, he lost control and became a full beast.

—Grrrroar!

A howl, neither dog nor tiger.

Proof of how degraded his bloodline truly was.

He charged.

Thud-thud-thud-thud!

Running on all fours came more naturally—and faster—than on two legs.

Even Hella and Waver wouldn’t have been able to stop that charge.

I simply looked down on him with disinterest.

Beasts are simple.

Even his path of attack was clear to my eyes now.

And clear paths are easy to trap.

Crack!

Roots of the World Tree burst from the ground, seizing his ankles.

He dragged them along, tearing at them with brute force, but the elastic vines refused to snap.

Not enough to stop him—he still barreled forward, dragging the roots as he closed on me.

‘He’s going for the throat.’

Werebeasts, like beasts, always went straight for the kill.

An exposed neck was the juiciest target.

Snap!

His fangs clashed shut in the air, the reek of his breath washing over me.

His bloodlust was so thick it made my skin crawl.

Angered that I dodged, he quivered and drove his claws toward my heart.

Riiip!

His lips split wide in a feral grin.

He’d felt the impact—sure he had pierced my heart.

But the beast had lost all reason; he couldn’t tell the difference.

Crrrack!

He opened his jaws wide, intent on fulfilling his earlier promise—eating me alive before I could die.

Crunch!

His teeth sank into flesh, tearing and grinding, shredding vessels and flesh.

It was an instinctive kill—end life in one bite.

“…?”

But instead of the hot spray of blood, only sawdust and sap filled his mouth.

A flicker of confusion broke through the beast’s yellow, instinct-clouded eyes.

Splinter!

Woodflesh.

He hadn’t bitten my neck, but bark.

Of course, his bite strength still pierced through to my muscle.

But that much was enough for my plan.

It wasn’t a fatal wound.

“The limits of a beast are clear enough.”

I had used this trick before.

And still, he had fallen for it, recklessly lunging in.

Now it was time for him to pay for his carelessness.

“Your moves are too predictable.”

After the throat came the heart.

It was the typical attack pattern of a beast consumed by instinct.

Normally, one would keep dodging and wearing him down, but not me.

If I blocked once, that was all the chance I needed—to get close and strike his vital.

“They say the only cure for a disobedient dog is the stick.”

Crrrack!

Like a snake coiling its prey, my vines bound his body tight.

His arrogance, his wild momentum, his beast-dulled wits—he struggled uselessly.

Click!

The muzzle pressed against his temple.

A creature’s most vital weak spot, straight to the brain.

At this range, no aim was needed.

There was no escape.

“Pathetic… a pistol…?”

With his last sliver of reason, he mocked me.

Trusting in his beast-hide.

Hide tough enough to shrug off rifles.

Surely no mere handgun could pierce it.

Woooong!

“…!”

That would be true—if it were an ordinary bullet.

The Hasstock-400’s barrel flared with a blinding light.

Mana seeped from the runes carved into the round.

Enhanced destruction, piercing force, acceleration, shockwave release.

Quadruple-enchanted bullets.

The masterpiece of a future Archmage, blooming with talent.

My one sure bet.

“Die.”

BANG!

The shot was more like artillery.

Even I staggered back several steps from the recoil.

My shoulder screamed as if it might tear out of its socket.

My ears rang, vision flashing white.

The hot wind seared my face.

I smoothed down my hair, floating in the heated air.

If just the recoil was this much—

Then the direct hit had obliterated him.

Not pierced—shattered.

His head was gone.

His body swayed drunkenly, then collapsed.

Splatter! Ssshhhk!

Blood rained down, hissing into vapor as it sprayed.

「The World Tree trembles in awe of the overwhelming power.」

Yes—it was brutal for a child’s eyes.

But for me, it was the perfect result.

‘I’ve grown strong enough to reach this level, then.’

In such a short time, I had become capable of killing even a werebeast.

It was encouraging.

‘And now…’

「The World Tree flips the body of the fallen enemy.」

With practiced ease, it drew forth the contents.

「The Spirit Cocoon has been recovered.」

「The World Tree’s aura stirs the cocoon.」

「The Spirit Cocoon hatches.」

This one had been whole—not just fragments, but an intact cocoon.

Veins like human circuitry crawled across its surface, which the World Tree promptly tore apart.

Its core split open—

And a spirit was born.

Fwoooosh!

The freed spirit shone bright.

Rejoicing, it danced and melted into the earth.

Just like back in the 7th District.

Grass sprouted, life returned to the land.

A sight no less moving for being familiar.

The blossoms faded as quickly as they came.

Over the fleeting paradise, system messages rose.

「The resurrected spirits return to nature!」

「The surrounding environment recovers vitality!」

「Affinity with nature has increased!」

「The spirits return to the World Tree!」

「The World Tree grows!」

And then—an unfamiliar line.

「The World Tree has met partial conditions to grow into a Nomad!」

(End of Chapter)