Chapter 30: The Shaman's Nobility Stems from the Totem

From remorse and hatred, from the ashes of the endless spirit butterflies, a single ember remains—a remnant forged from the obsessions of all the spirit butterflies. When that obsession grows as vast as mountains and seas, it brings forth the most unfathomable miracle in the world. And so, within death, the breath of life unfurls.

A spirit butterfly, cloaked in the flames of death, flies against the light. At last, it undergoes the ultimate metamorphosis and becomes an existence even more wondrous.

Naturally sculpted, brimming with beauty—a Celestial Dream Butterfly.

Unwilling to heed death’s whispered summons, it breaks free from the grave of the departed. How could it not inspire dread? How could it not be deemed a demon? The malice of heaven and earth is blatant, without disguise.

Across the endless rivers of time, their gazes meet, and in an instant, it feels as if countless thunders and tidal waves crash upon Ye Chen’s heart.

“The inheritance of the Celestial Dream Butterfly.”

Ye Chen’s soul trembles, sensing a mysterious and unfathomable power enveloping him, granting him a startling transformation.

Even the fragile body of the spirit butterfly glows, its radiance soft, as if waterfalls and oceans revolve with Ye Chen’s will.

A boundless ambition arises within him; with a single thought, winds and thunder roar throughout the illusory world, as though capable of obliterating all things. Yet, when a single spark falls before the sacrificial altar, it merely leaves a shallow pit in the earth—a stark contrast.

It seemed he could destroy heaven and earth, recreate the elements, and yet only managed to create a pit in the mud.

Ye Chen staggers, nearly falling, and regains his senses. In the illusory realm, he might be omnipotent, but it is all an illusion.

His real strength has not truly ascended to such a fearsome level.

Ye Chen sighs; he nearly lost himself in the allure of such terrifying power.

But that power belongs to the Celestial Dream Butterfly, not to Ye Chen himself.

“Ah, like a dream, like an illusion.”

Ye Chen feels a vague sense of loss—not because he has gained nothing, but because his ambition knows no bounds.

“It’s a pity that I seem to have only touched the surface of the Celestial Dream Butterfly’s inheritance.”

“Though my vision has been broadened, it is not enough.”

With some regret, Ye Chen muses, “I have yet to truly transform into a Celestial Dream Butterfly. To fully claim this inheritance is simply unrealistic.”

The origins of the Celestial Dream Butterfly are extraordinary—this truly surpasses all expectations.

Ye Chen had suspected that the Celestial Dream Butterfly must have an extraordinary background, yet he still underestimated it.

It is actually connected to the River of Time, a matter far beyond Ye Chen’s current cultivation. If not for extraordinary circumstances, Ye Chen would remain utterly ignorant of it.

He glances down at Ning Peach Blossom—she is remarkable in her own right, but when it comes to the Celestial Dream Butterfly’s inheritance, even she cannot sense the slightest trace.

This amuses Ye Chen, and his wariness toward Ning Peach Blossom lessens.

“No, I mustn’t underestimate her yet.”

Ye Chen reminds himself not to grow complacent. Ning Peach Blossom’s strength may pale in comparison to the Celestial Dream Butterfly, but Ye Chen himself is far from that level.

Moreover, the Celestial Dream Butterfly he saw was at its peak—a difference as vast as heaven and earth.

The day he succeeds in his transformation, he will still need to advance step by step. There can be no leap to the heavens overnight.

“For now, can I strike at Wu?”

Ye Chen ponders, never forgetting the potential dangers Wu may bring.

The chieftain may be spared, for he is adaptable—but it is precisely those as stubborn as Wu who cause trouble.

Yet it would not do to simply cut Wu down. If an opportunity arises, Ye Chen intends to seize it.

“At least I’ve undergone some transformation. In the illusory realm, I should be able to do as I wish with ease.”

“Altering Wu’s memories shouldn’t be a major issue. Even if complications arise, they may be reparable. In dreams, I wield dominion over time and reality. It’s worth the risk—things can hardly get much worse.”

Previously, Ye Chen had little confidence, but now, with increased power, he feels somewhat assured.

Still, lest danger grows with time, he must act against Wu swiftly.

Such actions are despicable—an emotional manipulator, forcing feelings upon Wu—a deed deserving condemnation.

Yet Ye Chen cares little. His integrity may have been compromised, but Wu is, after all, an enemy.

To show mercy to one’s enemy is the height of folly.

If Wu were insignificant, it would be another matter. An ant beneath one’s feet poses no threat and can be ignored, without even a trace of killing intent.

But Wu holds high status within the tribe. Even after her prestige was tarnished by the wild boar incident, she still holds weight—not as much as Ye Chen, but enough to be a constraint. Why invite such trouble?

Ye Chen has no wish for Wu to cause him difficulties. If not for the current circumstances, he would not waste time—he would simply destroy Wu’s body and be done with it.

But now, that will not do. Ye Chen worries the Bamboo Tribe might collapse entirely—already suffering grievous losses, the tension could snap at any moment. He cannot be careless. If the tribe is lost, finding another would be a major hassle—a loss outweighing any gain. Wu cannot simply die.

Things are different now. Ye Chen views the Bamboo Tribe as his own possession—something to be cherished.

Once more, Ye Chen channels his divine power, consuming the incense and will of the people. With arcane arts, he manipulates Wu’s memories, returning to the moment when Wu first bonded with the spirit bamboo, amid a sky full of dancing spirit butterflies.

Originally, there should have been no spirit butterflies—when Wu first met the spirit bamboo, there were none, for she is no rare medicinal herb to attract them. Such a scene belongs only in dreams, not reality.

Ye Chen is pruning Wu’s memories. He dares not erase the spirit bamboo, but instead increases the presence of the spirit butterflies. Though they cannot rival the spirit bamboo, they must become significant in Wu’s heart.

Alas, the spirit butterflies live only seven days—a severe limitation. Ye Chen cannot mimic the path of the spirit bamboo; he cannot personally descend and orchestrate a dreamlike encounter with Wu.

The butterflies dance—so beautiful and varied. Yet, as time passes, countless butterflies perish and fade into silent ashes. Wu grows accustomed to this scene.

She cannot distinguish one from another, yet they become an indispensable part of her memories.

They will never surpass the spirit bamboo, but while tending the bamboo—watering and pruning it—Wu becomes used to the company of spirit butterflies.

On the bamboo’s leaves and branches, dew gathers, infused with the scent of incense and will—spirit water, perhaps.

Wu uses this spirit water to nourish the spirit butterflies, hoping one might escape the seven-day fate. But it is too difficult; such a butterfly has never appeared. Eventually, hope fades, but she continues to care for them out of habit.

The spirit butterflies do not fear people—at least, not Wu. And so, one generation after another, they adorn Wu’s memories, so that her former life is no longer defined solely by the spirit bamboo.