Chapter 25: The Druids’ Daily Activities
Before Maggie could answer, the naked figure swung back, their cries echoing through the forest.
“Ooooooh!”
This time, they could see him clearly—a male elf, a single leaf covering his genitals, his muscular body tanned, his long brown hair swaying in the wind, his face contorted in a look of ecstatic joy.
“What… what is he doing?” Leona asked, staring at the elf as he swung from tree to tree, his bare buttocks flashing, his laughter echoing through the forest.
“Is he a pervert?” Rebecca asked, her usual composure shaken. “Are all Druids like this?”
“Well… it’s a kind of… daily activity…” Baggs said, embarrassed. “Not everyone does this, of course. It’s a form of spiritual practice, a way to connect with nature. Swinging from vines is a way to feel the wind, the rhythm of the forest… We Druids believe in following our instincts, expressing ourselves freely. We’re used to it… ahaha…”
“So this is how you commune with nature?” Abyss asked, nodding. “I might try it sometime. Perhaps I’ll gain some insights.”
“If you do that, I’ll never let you touch my head again!” Leona warned.
Abyss, his feelings hurt, although he didn’t remember why he liked touching her head, closed his mouth.
“Well… it seems Mr. Belator’s habits differ from ours. I should warn you about what you might encounter here,” Maggie said. “Druids express their connection to nature in various ways, most of which involve nudity. It allows us to feel the wind against our skin, the pulse of the earth… You’ll be staying here for a few days. It’s best to be prepared… Of course, we do cover ourselves in public areas. We’ve become more civilized since ancient times…”
Before she could finish, a group of elven Druids, wearing simple leaf loincloths, ran past them, their faces beaming, chanting as they ran, small sprouts of grass emerging from their footprints, replacing the trampled plants.
Was the Druid council a gathering of perverts? Flora, clinging to Leona’s arm, felt a sense of unease.
“Well… standing here isn’t very productive. Let’s go inside, meet with the Grand Sage, and greet the other high-ranking Druids. I wonder how many have gathered,” Baggs suggested.
“By the way, Baggs, why do you always stay in your cat form?” Abyss asked suddenly. “Is there a reason?”
“Ahem… well… it’s not a big deal… I don’t dislike my elven form, but I wasn’t wearing any clothes when I transformed. It would be rude to revert back here… I might be a flirt, but I do have some sense of decency…”
…
The Druid council didn’t have stables. Visitors simply tied their horses wherever they pleased. The horses could graze freely, even on the medicinal herbs. The Druids didn’t interfere with nature’s course. East Wind and the undead warhorse, one a familiar, the other undead, were content to wait patiently.
They followed Baggs deeper into the forest, observing the Druids.
Not all of them were running around naked. When not engaged in their spiritual practices, they seemed quite civilized, dressed in simple clothes made of animal hides and coarse cloth, reading, conversing, or conducting experiments. They greeted Abyss and his companions with polite nods, their friendliness, as Maggie had described, genuine.
The closer they got to the sacred tree, the denser the mana became, almost viscous at the innermost circle. It was a paradise for mages, but access was restricted to senior members of the council and high-ranking Druids like Abyss (or rather, the Druid he was impersonating). Others could only visit during designated times, free of charge, of course. Druids weren’t concerned with money.
“Ah, Master Mustalian, you’ve returned! Who are these humans? Are they Druids as well?”
Before they reached the Grand Sage’s residence, Baggs encountered a familiar face. He had been addressed by his surname.
A tiger, walking towards them, greeted them in a deep, masculine voice, clearly another Druid in animal form.
“This gray-haired gentleman is a Druid. The others are his family,” Baggs replied. “Don’t underestimate him. Remember the aphid swarm the Grand Sage observed? He was the one who commanded them.”
The tiger looked at Abyss with newfound respect. “My apologies. It’s a pleasure to meet you, fellow Druid.”
Maggie stepped forward. “Uncle Arcassel! I’m back! You won’t believe what I saw in the Ossi Kingdom! Speaking of the Ossi Kingdom, let me tell you about my trip to the Eastern Empire…”
“Oh dear! My stomach! I think it’s my monthly… I have to go!” the tiger, Arcassel, exclaimed, interrupting her, his voice filled with panic, as he turned and fled, as if he had seen a ghost.
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