The Druid Who Devoured the Great Nature

Clatter, clatter!

The footsteps were loud—deliberately so, not even trying to hide.

‘It’s a psychological tactic.’

If someone felt trapped in a snare and then heard pursuers closing in, terror would overwhelm them.

They’d collapse into panic.

It was all part of the strategy.

‘Here they come.’

Shapes writhed in the dark, drawing closer.

I crouched in shadow, watching.

“Keek-keek-keek!”

A laugh like nails on a chalkboard slithered through the night.

Moonlight revealed them bit by bit.

“Another one today. Lucky haul, eh?”

The hooked nose stood out first.

Short stature, stubby limbs.

Clothes too ragged to hide scrawny muscle.

Fingers twitching with anticipation, skin a sickly green.

‘Goblins.’

Parasites of the slums.

Not so much a separate race as a despised minority—skin green as mold, ugly faces, and crime clinging to them like a stench.

‘Prejudice? Hardly surprising.’

In this world where human rights meant nothing, no one cared.

Besides, goblins made their living off pickpocketing, robbery, kidnapping.

No one pitied them.

“Maybe it’s that outsider who wandered in today? Must be loaded. Worth the trouble.”

“Idiot. Who walks in here of all places?”

Amusement tinged their voices.

Another figure darted out behind the first.

‘Two of them.’

About what I expected.

No need to send a gang when prey was so meager.

‘Perfect.’

Two was just the right number for me to handle alone.

“Shall we get cooking?”

Snickering, they crept toward the sprung trap, one hand in a pocket—ready for a weapon.

“…Huh?”

“What is it?”

“There’s no one here.”

“Too dark to see?”

“No way. Maybe it malfunctioned…”

The moment doubt touched their voices—

Whoosh!

The World Tree’s tendril shot from my hand.

“What the hell!”

“Gyaaah!”

It snared their legs, then slithered upward, elastic as a whip, coiling like a snake around their torsos.

“Grkkk!”

Arms bound, throats squeezed, they flailed helplessly in the air.

For weak goblins, the World Tree’s grip was irresistible.

Once they were helpless, I stepped into the open.

“Mmph! Mmmhh!”

Bloodshot eyes glared at me.

I twitched a finger.

The tendril tightened, choking them until their gasps turned to strangled coughs.

Their faces drained pale as realization dawned.

‘Better than magic, in some ways.’

Just as when I’d subdued the overseer—efficient, powerful, no need for catalysts or chants.

Even stealthy. Far more versatile than I’d hoped.

“No need for both of you to talk.”

I rifled through one’s pocket.

“A baton, huh…”

Sure enough, a weapon.

Crackle!

With a snap, the baton extended, sparking arcs of electricity so bright they lit the alley.

This wasn’t for self-defense.

‘Illegal modification.’

The jolt could kill, not just stun.

Proof enough they weren’t strangers to worse crimes.

‘No guilt wasting the likes of you.’

Without hesitation, I struck.

Bzzzt!

“……!”

The result was instant.

His body spasmed violently before collapsing limp.

The other’s pupils quivered in terror.

“I’ll let you keep your tongue. So stay quiet.”

“P-please! I’m sorry! Spare me!”

As soon as his mouth was freed, he screamed.

I’d expected as much.

Calmly, I pressed the baton against his exposed skin.

“I said quiet.”

“…!”

Terror shut him up.

His expression was like a man staring at death itself.

“You know shouting’s useless. Just answer my questions.”

He did. He knew.

Once caught, goblins were at their captor’s mercy.

Even survival didn’t mean freedom.

‘Torture’s screams were nothing new to them.’

His would be no different.

“How many in your gang?”

“Th-thirteen…”

Minus these two, eleven left.

‘Too many to clear in one night.’

I clicked my tongue and continued.

Territory, weapons, ambush tactics, a leader—he spilled it all.

‘Good. Matches what I knew.’

Nothing had changed.

Now for the real question.

“Where’s your hideout?”

“……”

For the first time, silence.

I frowned.

‘A goblin refusing to betray his gang?’

They were cowards by nature.

Survival trumped loyalty every time.

They’d sell kin without blinking.

If he’d meant to keep quiet, he should’ve from the start.

But now, of all times, to clam up over the hideout?

“…?”

I leaned in—and noticed his eyes had lost focus.

“What, fainted already?”

I’d kept the shocks non-lethal.

Yet he looked like he’d passed out from sheer terror.

Pathetic.

“Damn it. I’ll just grab another—”

“Grrrk!”

“…!”

Suddenly, my arm tingled with bone-deep fatigue.

「The World Tree shudders in shock.」

It wasn’t just me. The World Tree recoiled, thrashing in alarm.

“Graaahhh!”

The goblin who should’ve been unconscious convulsed violently, thrashing with unnatural force.

For an instant, he nearly tore free.

Bzzzt!

“Grkkk!”

It startled me, but the thrashing meant nothing.

I didn’t panic—just swung the baton again.

The high-voltage crackle silenced him no matter how wildly he flailed.

“…What the hell was that about?”

I rubbed my aching wrist.

This wasn’t like a fish flapping in a net.

The force I’d felt through my grip was raw, brutal.

Strong enough that, for a moment, the tendril’s hold nearly snapped.

Strength no withered body should have possessed.

“He wasn’t faking it, that’s for sure.”

If he’d had that power from the start, he should’ve broken free immediately.

Same with the fainting spell—goblins weren’t clever enough for long cons.

A trick that sloppy would’ve been exposed right away.

“Then what the hell was going on?”

My brows knit in unease.

If every goblin here could suddenly do that, the job wouldn’t be so simple.

Then—

A message blinked before my eyes:

「You have discovered a Fragment of a Spirit’s Cocoon!」

「The Fragment of a Spirit’s Cocoon throbs!」

「The World Tree rejoices!」

“…A spirit?”

A hazy glow seeped from the goblin’s corpse.

“Hey, mister.”

When I opened my eyes again, the sun was already high.

The World Tree stretched lazily, like it too had overslept.

Fair enough—these past few nights had turned upside down hunting goblins.

I patted it lightly, and it rubbed against my palm like a dog.

“Are you awake?”

A child’s head poked through the half-open door.

The same kid from District 7 who’d begged from me and shown me this hideout.

“Can I come in?”

“Sure.”

“Really?”

“There’s nothing dangerous. Come on in.”

Relieved, the child stepped inside.

This was a rough neighborhood—better to ask first, in case traps were waiting.

‘Not that I need them.’

I quietly recalled the tendrils I’d laid across the floor.

If anyone intruded, I’d have felt it.

World Tree traps were safer than any crude snares.

“What is it?”

“Do you want this?”

He thrust a bowl toward me—food, not coins.

Some kind of potato, though hard-skinned and tougher than what I knew.

I grimaced and shook my head.

“Keep it. You don’t have enough for yourself.”

“Aren’t you hungry?”

“Of course I am.”

“Then eat. I still have money left from what you gave me.”

He pressed harder, even settling beside me to share.

I gave in and took a bite.

…No hidden sweetness.

Still, he’d offered it sincerely. I forced it down.

When the bowl was empty, I asked:

“How’s the neighborhood been lately?”

“Really different,” he said quickly, like he’d been waiting.

“Adults say the goblins are gone. They think someone took care of them. The rest all went into hiding.”

Exactly as I’d hoped.

‘I’ve been killing goblins four nights straight.’

Never came up empty. Six dead in total.

Nearly half their numbers.

Enough that they must’ve realized someone was targeting them.

“You’re lucky, mister. Everyone else who came here before died quick.”

Smart kid, but still just a kid. He hadn’t guessed it was me.

“If everyone died, why bring me food?”

“Because the goblins are quiet now. And since you didn’t come out, I thought you might be starving.”

“…Thanks.”

“I know hunger. It’s the worst feeling. Even if it’s hard, don’t let yourself starve.”

His small hand patted my shoulder.

I almost laughed.

‘He thinks I’m some broke drifter who landed here.’

Fair enough—I hadn’t washed or changed clothes in days, chasing goblins.

My reflection in broken glass looked like any other beggar.

‘Still, he’s kindhearted.’

In a slum, sharing food was the same as giving it all away.

Too good a kid to waste here.

“…But why do you keep calling me ‘mister’?”

One word had been nagging at me.

The child blinked, puzzled.

“Isn’t that what you are?”

Eyes wide and innocent beneath his messy hair.

This face, and he calls me that?

Strange feeling.

“…Forget it.”

Wouldn’t do to argue with a kid over how I looked.

“Anyway, I’ve seen you’re alive. That’s enough. I’ll go now.”

So that was it—he’d just come to check on me.

“And for the next few days… stay quiet.”

A sudden warning, like the first day.

I asked why.

“The goblins here… sometimes they go crazy. Real violent. Everyone hides indoors when it happens. You should too.”

“They just get violent? Any idea why?”

He tilted his head, confused.

“If we knew, we’d stop it… right?”

“True enough.”

A pointless question.

I let him leave, then mulled it over.

‘Stronger goblins, huh.’

Just what I’d seen these past few nights.

I didn’t know the trigger.

But when they raged, their strength went beyond any ordinary goblin.

‘If they all turned like that, it’d be trouble. But I can’t give up.’

I raised the arm where the World Tree grew.

The leaf-sprouting skin no longer felt alien.

At least, not until District 7.

Because now, something else had changed.

Woooong—

From the tendrils rose a pod, oval and strange—

Like an egg, like a seed.

Its surface was plated like bark, rough yet sturdy.

「A Fragment of a Spirit’s Cocoon pulses.」

「The World Tree cradles the Fragment of a Spirit’s Cocoon.」

“A spirit.”

The World Tree’s strength, its source.

The very reason I’d sought Greenwood.

From a berserk goblin, I had recovered a trace of it.

(End of Chapter)