Adventures With A Reincarnated Bush

  My head went flying. I was just a gardener in a sect. I'm a man who survived some harsh times to be killed by a "hero" who bumped into someone from our sect. So, of course, he vowed a blood feud. This tragedy happens all the time, who knows what will set off a chosen or random hero? 'Will anyone mourns this poor man's death?' John thought in his last moments.

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  An unknown time later, in the resurrection office in the heavens, a small soul was finally plucked from the river Styx. A glowing deity looked at the insignificant soul. "Let's see, wow, I haven't seen such a weak soul in quite some time. It's hard to tell anything from such a pathetic soul. Even mortals are better than this."

  A servant walked up and bowed reverentially. "Should I dispose of it master?"

  "Hmm? Oh, I guess it was alright at gardening," the soul sorting deity pauses to consider, he then shakes his head. "No, the plant division is always complaining that they need more souls," he says. Without any more thought, the deity throws the small soul in with a bunch of other weak souls in a basket.

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  A short time later, a small, white, fluffy seed floats through the air. 'What's going on? Where am I?' A shocked John tries to yell, but he had no mouth with which to speak. In fact, besides knowing that he was floating through the air, he couldn't sense anything. Typically, this would send him into a panic, but something told him that this was how things were supposed to be.

  'Was my soul refined into a magic item or something?' He searches his thoughts, and he soon found that there was a deep instinct there that he didn't have before. 'He was just a small seed. He needed to float and find a place to grow.' This small quiet voice seemed to remind him kindly. Unlike animals that had strong, overpowering instincts that would force them to slaughter and fight, plants were different. Plants had a gentle and calm instinct. This instinct lacks the urgency that even humans felt to hurry and survive. A seed could float for months, or even years without worrying. When the time was right, things would happen naturally.

  John enjoyed his relaxing time floating through the air. For humans, being alone with no sensory stimulation would usually drive a person insane. As a plant, there was a strong calming feeling. Everything is as it should be. For John, his previous life wasn't a good one, and he had had a hard time cultivating. Now he could relax without worrying about sects, politics, or material things.

  Suddenly, things change, and he found himself on the ground! A distinct feeling of the damp soil intruded into his consciousness, and his instincts spoke again to him. 'It's time to grow!' John yelled excitedly in his mind. Wait, how do I grow? John was worried, he had never been a plant before. What if he messed up? 'Well, it can't be worse than my previous life.'

  Slowly but surely he split open. It was surprisingly painful and mentally grimacing; he endured the feeling of being torn in two. It's not like he had a choice; it was a natural part of his new life. The instinct kept him calm as it laid out what he had to do. John felt regret for his past self. 'Is this how those great demonic beasts cultivated?' He had to scr.a.p.e and beg to get basic cultivation techniques, but now this instinct just gave him a step by step guide to growing.