Chapter 14: The Blessing of the Prayer Totem

The wild boars charged forward recklessly, appearing utterly fearless. They destroyed anything in their path—people, objects, it made no difference. As they drew near, Ye Chen saw one particularly fierce boar bare its razor-sharp tusks and skewer an unfortunate tribesman right through the body. It was a harrowing sight, as if the man had been threaded onto a gourd, wretched and pitiful in his fate.

“Big Tree!” Ya cried out in anguish, his heart sinking with loss. The tribesman called Big Tree was barely clinging to life, his breath weak. Blood streamed from the ragged wound torn open by the tusk, and Big Tree hung upside down from the boar, death only moments away.

“Big Tree was trying to lure the boars away and paid the price,” Ya said bitterly, his gaze filled with hatred and fear. Yet, though afraid, he didn’t turn and flee.

Ye Chen, however, felt no fear for himself; he simply worried that the tribe would suffer grievous losses. “If I were to invoke the dreamscape, I could easily bewilder these wild boars and end this swiftly.” As fierce as the boars were, they remained ordinary beasts. But such an act would give Lingzhu the opportunity it was waiting for.

“The trouble Lingzhu brings has yet to be resolved. If I use the dreamscape, I’ll only place myself in greater peril,” Ye Chen mused. He wasn’t inclined toward self-sacrifice, but just because he couldn’t use the dreamscape didn’t mean he would stand idly by.

With a thunderous shout, Ye Chen swung his bone knife and rushed at one of the boars. Once he set his sights on a target, death was all but certain. His blade cleaved the boar’s skull in two. Reaching out, Ye Chen pulled Big Tree from the beast’s tusk. The tusk had been deeply embedded in Big Tree’s chest—Ye Chen’s actions, rather than saving him, looked more like sealing his doom.

Big Tree coughed up several mouthfuls of blood, his face turning ashen; clearly, he was not long for this world. But Ye Chen moved swiftly, pulling Big Tree away before the other boars could react.

A gentle golden light shimmered into existence, flowing over Big Tree’s body like a warm current. Ye Chen had planned for this; by focusing his offering power on a single person, the consumption was not too great. He healed Big Tree, pulling him back from the brink of death, but didn’t continue to expend his strength.

Now, Big Tree lay pale-faced but alive. Though his vitality was severely drained and recovery would not come quickly, he forced his eyes open and, struggling, asked Ye Chen, “Chief, is everyone else safe?”

“I tried to lure some of the boars away, but failed,” he confessed. “They should have gone the other direction, yet they charged into the village regardless. This is vengeance, pure and simple.”

Ye Chen caught sight of the boars surging again and, unfazed, carried Big Tree further from danger. For these boars to catch him was pure delusion. The beasts fumed and raged, but their stubbornness kept them from giving up.

Meanwhile, Wu had managed to slay a boar as well, while Ya remained small and insignificant, afraid to draw attention for fear the boars would set upon him. Fortunately, with Ye Chen and Wu drawing the beasts’ ire, Ya was overlooked and thus, safe.

“For now, don’t worry about anything else. Focus on healing,” Ye Chen advised quietly. Sensing the shifting currents of the dreamscape, he wondered, “In this situation, what would you do?”

Within the dreamscape, Lingzhu’s phantom swayed, its leaves flickering with crimson flames that danced with its unsettled emotions. It was a difficult predicament. At first, the boars’ attention was fixed on Ye Chen and Wu, but when they failed to inflict harm, the boars grew wise and began attacking others. This was vengeance indeed—wherever they passed, bamboo huts were toppled, and chaos reigned.

The tribe was small to begin with, and there was nowhere to hide. The boars had come too swiftly for anyone to prepare. Most importantly, they had never faced such peril before.

Normally, the tribe enjoyed the protection of its totem; even mindless beasts would not dare intrude. If Ye Chen were absent, Lingzhu would have had the strength to repel the boars. If Lingzhu were absent, Ye Chen would have fought with all his might. But now, the two watched each other warily, each afraid to give the other an opening.

There was no trust between them—in fact, they were enemies. That was the crux of the problem: who would break the stalemate first? Ye Chen sighed, finding the situation truly intractable.

Suddenly, a scream pierced the air, making Ye Chen’s heart sink. Someone had fallen victim to a boar. No matter how they ran, someone was bound to be caught.

The boars rampaged through the settlement. Though the herd had scattered somewhat, even a single boar was more than the old or infirm could handle. Ye Chen grew anxious; the tribe was few in number, and any further losses might mean their extinction.

“Totem!” someone wailed in desperation, praying for the totem’s protection. But a stern voice rebuked them: “Do not disturb the totem! It is already gravely wounded. We must not doom it for the sake of us frail elders.”

Hearing this, Ye Chen was struck by a mix of confusion and admiration. Indeed, he saw some tribespeople pale and defeated, yet no longer invoking the totem’s aid—even when facing deadly peril. This was no empty bravado; it was truly a shared resolve, astonishing in the face of death.

Could it be that people could confront death with such calm?

Ye Chen did his utmost, rescuing several from the boars’ jaws, but he was stretched thin, and more lives were at stake. Wu, too, turned pale with helplessness, unable to save everyone.

There were simply too many boars; no matter how desperately they fought, it wasn’t enough. Why were these beasts so crazed? What ancient grudge drove them? Wu was baffled.

Suddenly, a thunderous roar shook the earth as radiant golden light filled the sky, raining down like a blessing.

“Lingzhu can hold back no longer,” Ye Chen realized, seeing Lingzhu’s phantom contract within the dreamscape. Where once it had raged like a wild beast, now it curled in upon itself, bristling like a frightened hedgehog.

Ye Chen felt the pressure on him ease considerably. Though his own soul was incomplete and he could do little but defend against Lingzhu, and though Lingzhu could strike at the dreamscape at any moment, having to expend its full strength against the boars would not be easy.

This would inevitably delay Lingzhu’s recovery—a boon for Ye Chen.

As the golden light cascaded down, bamboo huts throughout the tribe shimmered with verdant energy. Withered bamboo shot forth new branches, interweaving until they formed a dense forest.

The bamboo grove was lush, with slender shoots as straight and sharp as swords. One such shoot pierced a wild boar clean through. The beast, still alive, thrashed in vain—the bamboo, hard as steel, held it fast as its essence was drawn away. The boar kicked feebly a few more times, then lay still, its life extinguished.