I Really Am A Villain

“Moreover,” the old tree explained, “the Wood God was not merely born powerful. He cultivated ceaselessly, sought the Dao beneath the heavens, and risked his life countless times. Your Tree of Life, however, follows a different path, it does not seek enlightenment but cultivates through purity of heart, avoiding heavenly tribulations and worldly calamities. Yet such a path has its limits. What you have now is already the peak it can reach.”

“Why did the other Ancient Gods kill the Wood God?” Xu Zimo asked.

“I only know that the Wood God refused to join their corruption,” the old tree replied. “As for the exact details, I am not certain.”

“So what are you trying to tell me?” Xu Zimo asked.

“If you obtain the Wood God’s inheritance, you may become an enemy of the other Ancient Gods, especially the Ancient Poison God, Shebishi,” the old tree warned. “So, do you still want the inheritance?”

“I do,” Xu Zimo said calmly. “This is no longer the era of the Ancient Gods. So what if they are gods? The tide of time buries all things. Those abandoned by a new age, what power do they still hold?”

“Good,” the old tree said with a laugh. “I appreciate your confidence.”

It stretched out its branches, and as it did, its trunk began to rise slowly from the ground.

The entire Sunflower City trembled as the ancient tree used the last of its life force to pierce the heavens.

Behind it, a path of life appeared, like plunging into an ocean of emerald light, a vast road surrounded by countless floating green motes that looked like living spirits.

The aura of life emanating from it was overwhelmingly strong.

Life and death were natural opposites.

As the path of life manifested, every Flower of Death in the city seemed to respond.

Those that had not yet bloomed opened all at once, their black-purple petals like gateways to hell itself.

As waves of death energy erupted, they condensed in midair into a massive flower that shot straight toward the path of life.

“Go, quickly! I can’t hold it off for long!” the old tree shouted, throwing itself in the flower’s path.

Death’s corrosion spread rapidly across its trunk, bark falling away as its body aged visibly by the second.

Without hesitation, Xu Zimo stepped into the Path of Life.

The moment he entered, a dense wave of vitality washed over him, seeping into his pores and flooding his organs, meridians, and limbs with cleansing power.

It had been a long time since Xu Zimo had felt such comfort.

But he didn’t linger to enjoy it. He sprinted forward, racing down the glowing road.

Behind him, the Flowers of Death grew even more violent. The old tree’s body had already turned half-black, rotting away.

A shimmering green veil lit up ahead, reflecting an almost divine scene. Xu Zimo leapt through it, and suddenly found himself in a tranquil, ethereal space.

Beneath his feet ran a crystal-clear stream, so transparent he could see his own reflection below, as if another version of himself stood beneath the water’s surface.

When he stepped on it, the water did not ripple or sink; it was solid like stone.

Ahead stood a towering tree, half upright, half fallen, lying tilted across the ground.

It wasn’t as large as he had imagined, perhaps only a thousand meters tall.

Xu Zimo walked across the shining water, ripples spreading around his feet with each step.

As he approached, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was not walking toward a tree, but toward an era.

An age long gone stood before him, ancient and silent, its lingering presence stirring the water.

Silence.

A deathly, suffocating silence.

The few steps it took to reach the tree felt like a journey that drained every ounce of his strength.

At last, standing before it, he gently placed his hand on the bark. “Are you dead?” he asked softly.

“An old friend?” came a faint voice.

It wasn’t spoken aloud, but resonated directly within his mind.

“I don’t know you,” Xu Zimo said, “but many of my memories… are missing.”

“I sense a familiar aura from you,” the tree replied. “We must have met before. You came seeking my inheritance, didn’t you?”

“You are the Wood God, Jumang?” Xu Zimo asked, though he already knew the answer in his heart.

“I am the last remaining Tree Spirit of the Wood God,” it replied. “So yes, I am part of Jumang himself. I can grant you my inheritance, but I have one condition.”

“What is it?” Xu Zimo asked.

“No matter what happens in the future,” the tree spirit said, “even if you stand against the other eight Ancient Gods, do not kill them. Leave them a path to live.”

“I can’t do that,” Xu Zimo shook his head. “If they do not block my path, there will be no enmity between us. But if they stand in my way, then no one will be spared.”

“You are too bloodthirsty,” the tree spirit sighed. “One day, you will be consumed by your own slaughter.”

“And you,” Xu Zimo countered, “who never killed anyone, what was your end?”

The spirit was silent for a long moment, then said quietly, “From what I see, you will not walk the Path of Life. Granting you my inheritance may not be wise. But since you are here, I no longer have the luxury of choice.”

As its words fell, the waters beneath Xu Zimo’s feet began to boil, and the entire space trembled.

“The Flower of Death is breaking through,” the tree spirit said urgently. “We must hurry.”

Its body began to glow with a surge of life energy as countless leaves scattered into the air.

Finally, three green spheres of light emerged.

The first floated to Xu Zimo and sank into his forehead.

It was a divine technique, The God Tree’s Blessing.

This cultivation method was immensely powerful. It allowed the user to condense God Tree Seals, each seal representing a life.

In essence, it granted multiple chances to resurrect.

The second green sphere disintegrated, revealing a small sapling.

“This is the World Tree,” Jumang said with a faint chuckle. “If you nurture it well, perhaps a new God Tree will one day be born.”

The World Tree held the potential to become divine, but its path would be perilous. A single misstep would lead to utter annihilation.

Xu Zimo nodded slightly, then turned to the third sphere.

Inside was something completely different, a black toxin.

“That,” said the tree spirit, “is the poison that once destroyed me, the Three Corpses Decay Poison. It is scarce, but powerful enough to kill even a Saint Sovereign. It rots the body, the soul, and life itself. Use it with caution.”

“So, you know how to kill after all,” Xu Zimo said with a faint smile.

“I never used it,” the spirit replied. “But after all these years, the poison has already consumed me. I merely gathered what little remains.”

“Well then,” it said softly, its tone growing weaker, “my time is nearly over. I’ll hold back the Flowers of Death. You must go, now.”

As its voice faded, the entire space trembled violently once more.