Chapter 25: Silver Tongues Sway the Heart

Wu felt his head was unbearably heavy, as though a boulder weighing hundreds of pounds were pressing down on his neck. A deep aching throbbed through him, and his eyelids seemed too heavy to lift.

"He’s waking up," Ye Chen remarked, casting a glance at Wu. The spirit butterfly’s vessel was a simple matter; it remained within the void realm, never directly interacting with Wu. However, the fragment of the chieftain’s soul now inhabiting that body was bound to face some reproach from Wu.

Ye Chen was well aware of this and had no intention of tampering with Wu’s memories regarding the chieftain. After all, the chieftain’s actions would inevitably diverge from what they once were—there was no fooling Wu about that. Besides, erasing every trace of the chieftain from Wu’s mind was a monumental task, and the more one meddled with memory, the greater the risk of exposing flaws. Ye Chen had to be cautious, lest he reduce Wu to a mindless husk.

When Wu awoke, his gaze immediately fell on the chieftain lying motionless on the ground. No—what lay there was no longer the chieftain, but the spirit butterfly that had seized his body.

Regret flickered in Wu’s eyes, outrage simmering at the spirit butterfly’s audacity. “Had I known this would happen, I would never have let you stay. Why did you and the spirit bamboo have to turn against each other so completely?” His voice trembled with pain and fury. To Wu, both the spirit bamboo and spirit butterfly were the tribe’s totems. With the tribe teetering on the edge of disaster, how could they indulge in internal strife? It was the height of stupidity.

There was a hint of bitter disappointment in Wu’s tone—disgust at the butterfly’s ruthlessness and its shortsightedness.

Ye Chen fell silent for a moment, his mood untroubled. Wu’s reaction proved the reshaping of his consciousness had succeeded. Though Wu was furious, if he lacked true emotion, his response would be far more detached. At least now, Ye Chen was no longer an outsider in Wu’s eyes; this was merely an internal dispute. While the measures taken had been harsh and left Wu deeply disillusioned, there was still hope.

Ye Chen spoke in a low voice: “You don’t understand. It is precisely because the tribe is in decline that we must struggle all the more.”

He searched for a justification, eager to sway Wu. Though the outcome was already set and Wu’s transformation assured, a fabricated bond still required careful tending. Otherwise, it would be as fragile as a sandcastle—impressive in appearance but ready to collapse at the faintest touch. Wu’s perception of him was too important to neglect.

Of course, even if Ye Chen did nothing more, things were already much improved. With emotion as a tether, he needn’t fear Wu would choose to destroy everything in a desperate last stand. Ye Chen was unwilling to waste time and energy resolving the tribe’s internal strife. He was willing to expend a little effort now to lessen Wu’s resentment; after all, the dead could no longer vie for favor, and in time, Wu’s loyalty would be his completely.

Truth be told, Ye Chen had long coveted such unwavering devotion from the spirit bamboo.

“Then tell me,” Wu demanded, eyes sparking with barely contained fury, “is there truly any justification for what you did to the spirit bamboo?”

Wu knew well that the spirit butterfly was not the only one to act ruthlessly. Had the roles been reversed, the spirit bamboo would not have shown mercy either. But now the bamboo was gone, and thinking of the days spent together stoked Wu’s anger beyond restraint.

“Do you really think the Jiu Tribe will sit idly by and watch us recover our strength?” Ye Chen sneered. “In my view, the Jiu Tribe will do everything in its power to see us utterly destroyed.”

As he spoke, Ye Chen’s gaze flickered downward. Beneath the altar, a mass of black light, invisible to the naked eye, was condensing. Within it surged waves of blood, swirling and coalescing until they took the form of a wild boar. The creature’s bones protruded hideously—wasn’t this the very boar once offered as a sacrifice? Though dead, its resentful spirit, unyielding, had gathered in the night, transforming into a fiend intent on wreaking havoc.

Ye Chen regarded the boar fiend with interest but paid it little heed. If he so wished, it could be reduced to ashes in an instant. Yet, perhaps it might still serve some purpose, so he bided his time.

“We’re grievously weakened, and the Jiu Tribe has suffered losses as well. Can they really afford to come looking for trouble?” Wu was skeptical. “If they send too few, it makes little difference. But if they send many, won’t they risk leaving their own lair unprotected? The Jiu Tribe isn’t the only other tribe around. Who wouldn’t take the chance to loot their stronghold? Without a totem to shield them, they’d be courting disaster.”

The very thought frustrated Wu. It was precisely because the Jiu Tribe lacked a totem that everyone thought them easy prey. Who could have foreseen they’d prove so formidable? Otherwise, the Bamboo Tribe would not have been so thoroughly devastated. Totems were important, but not the sole measure of a tribe’s strength.

“The Jiu Tribe doesn’t need to send many,” Ye Chen replied, his voice grave. “If they incite the neighboring tribes to attack us, can we really hope to survive? The reason those tribes haven’t dared act rashly is simple: they fear our totem.”

“But if the totem is grievously wounded and can no longer protect us, that fear becomes meaningless. With each passing day, our deterrent power fades. Without a trump card, the entire tribe stands on the brink of destruction.”

“To restore a totem is no easy task. Both I and the spirit bamboo awakened our intelligence under the influence of the tribe’s incense and devotion, which allowed us to transform. Our natures are intrinsically linked—if I can devour the other, I can regain some of my strength.”

Ye Chen spoke with an air of solemn authority, though every word was pure fabrication. The spirit bamboo was in no position to refute him; whatever Ye Chen claimed was taken as truth, and Wu had no way to discern reality from falsehood.

Still, that didn’t mean Wu accepted everything at face value. Doubt lingered in his heart. To him, the spirit bamboo had always been honest, while the spirit butterfly was sly and untrustworthy.

“But even so, your actions were still too cruel,” Wu objected, unable to accept it. The spirit butterfly clearly still mattered to him; otherwise, he would have felt nothing but hatred.

Ye Chen forced a bitter smile. “Who says I left the spirit bamboo no escape? Do you really think I haven’t noticed the golden bamboo seed you hid away? Have I made any attempt to destroy it?” Inwardly, he berated himself for such hypocrisy—he had, after all, done exactly that, but was taking advantage of Wu’s ignorance.

Sure enough, Wu paused at these words, his expression easing. If the spirit bamboo still had a chance, then perhaps Ye Chen’s actions were not so utterly ruthless and unforgivable.

“In that case, why did you act against the chieftain?” The matter of the spirit bamboo could be set aside, but now Wu remembered the chieftain—a glaring inconsistency. Yet Ye Chen was unperturbed, responding with calm assurance. His efforts were not simply to trick a fool; there was a part of Wu that wanted to believe him.

“Hmph. The chieftain brought such disaster upon the tribe—should there not be consequences?” Ye Chen snorted. “I would have killed him outright, but for his years of loyal service. I left him alive—his soul rests within my void realm, unharmed. I have shown all the mercy I can.”