Chapter 33: The Word "Tragic" Cannot Begin to Describe

His entire body ached as if his bones had been crushed to dust. Ebony crawled out from the mud, his garments stained with blood, his face pale and haggard.

“No, even a totem could not possibly possess such power.”

Ebony began to doubt everything he knew. “Unless there’s an abundance of incense and devout wishes, a totem, even if it has recovered its vitality, would still be constrained by the power of worship. Mere cultivation level is not enough for a totem to wield such formidable strength.”

“So many from the Bamboo Tribe have died—how much power of worship could they possibly provide? Could they still turn the tables now? Ridiculous.”

“It’s strange. Could it be that the Bamboo Tribe’s totem has obtained some fortuitous opportunity? Impossible. We came in haste precisely out of fear the totem would recover and become a grave threat. In such a short time, there shouldn’t have been such a dramatic change. Or did we overlook something? Could the totem’s divine domain truly possess such miraculous power, turning decay into wonder? Unimaginable.”

Ebony could not comprehend the truth and knew nothing of the profound changes within the Bamboo Tribe itself—the totem had a new master, and the path Ye Chen now walked, though similar to that of a totem, was ultimately different.

A totem is but the nascent bud of the divine, still lacking in many respects. Ye Chen, having become the God of Dreams, remained subject to the limits of incense and worship, but his authority as a Ninth-Rank Dream God brought its own powers.

It was not that every act Ye Chen performed required the expenditure of worship’s power. By merely wielding the authority inherent to his station, he could summon strength without additional cost.

Of course, should he face a formidable challenge beyond his current limits, he could draw upon worship’s power to transcend those boundaries.

“A frog at the bottom of a well,” Ye Chen said coolly, gazing at Ebony. “How could fish and turtles in the water know the thoughts of a roc flying in the sky?”

“Fish and turtles?” Ebony trembled all over, furious. “Arrogant! You dare to posture before me? Were it not for the totem’s divine power, you old fool, I could have crushed you with a single blow!”

Ebony knew this tribal chief of the Bamboo Tribe had some skill, but it depended entirely on whom he was compared to.

As for the chief’s mind having been swapped, that was beyond Ebony’s knowledge.

Ebony’s eyes were cold; it was the totem he truly feared, not the senile, dying chief.

“I advise you to behave,” Ye Chen said icily. “That way, you’ll spare yourself needless suffering. If you insist on struggling, you’re only asking for more pain.”

Ye Chen could see the utter defiance in Ebony’s eyes and sneered, unconcerned.

Ebony had no desire to deal with Ye Chen, nor any patience for wasted words. He glanced around, his heart restless, and longed to escape.

But the agony radiating from his body was nearly unbearable, as if he might split apart at any moment. If he tried to run again, he might not be so lucky—he could be struck dead on the spot.

“No, even if that totem’s power is formidable, it surely can’t act without restraint.”

Such strength was terrifying, Ebony thought. Perhaps it could not be unleashed again.

He was certain the totem had suffered grave injuries and could not recover so quickly.

This thought gave Ebony a sliver of confidence, enough that he dared not flee yet. A faint black glow pulsed across his wounds, staunching the blood. Though he still looked wretched, he was not at death’s door—yet.

But none of Ebony’s inner turmoil mattered; Ye Chen would give him no time to recover or gather his thoughts. Once again, dazzling golden light coalesced, forming a giant hand that reached toward the heavens and tore apart all hope from Ebony’s heart.

With a thunderous crash, Ebony was nearly smashed into the earth itself, blood soaking the soil a gruesome red, the air thick with the stench of blood.

Barely clinging to life, his face etched with despair, Ebony’s spirit shattered. Hope was utterly gone, his soul withered. Ye Chen hoisted him up as if he were a tattered rag doll, his body now barely intact.

It was misery beyond words. Ebony was truly a tragic figure—he still had cards left to play, his eyes wide with resentment and unwillingness. Yet in the end, all he could do was sigh in defeat.

Even if he exhausted every method, it would make little difference.

Ye Chen laid Ebony alongside the masked nightjar, then asked in a calm voice, “Do you have anything to say now?”

Ebony spat out a mouthful of blood, several teeth missing, his words whistling through the gaps.

“What do you want to know?” Ebony sneered. “I’m just a discarded pawn, unvalued by my clan. If you expect to learn any secrets from me, you’re deluding yourself.”

“A discarded pawn?” Ye Chen laughed coldly. “You’re too modest. How could you be a mere pawn? I see you’re full of confidence.”

No matter what Ye Chen said, Ebony simply shut his eyes tight, stubborn as ever. There were some things he would never reveal.

Ye Chen chuckled softly. “So you have a spine. But your silence doesn’t mean I have no means to make you speak.”

He felt no compunctions about Ebony. If the man confessed the secrets of the Nightjar Tribe, he could die cleanly, without suffering. Otherwise, he would be tormented.

Dealing with shamans, Ye Chen was always cautious in twisting their consciousness, lest he reduce one to senility—that would be troublesome. But as for Ebony, if he ended up witless, it was of no consequence.

A golden rain of light descended, enveloping Ebony.

In an instant, a mysterious and dreadful force made him feel as if he were trapped in a dream.

Memories, even those long forgotten, were stripped away one by one, flooding to the surface. Ebony could not control his thoughts, unable to stop the torrent of recollections.

Even those memories he had forgotten were as clear as lines on his palm.

Fear welled up in Ebony’s heart. “What sorcery is this?”

He longed to cry out, but could not. It was like sleep paralysis—aware, even lucid, yet unable to wake.

Terror engulfed him. Experiencing this power firsthand was enough to shatter his courage.

Ye Chen paid him no heed. The shaman stepped forward, scrutinizing Ebony closely and murmured, “Just one man, and he thought he could wipe out our Bamboo Tribe? Where did his confidence come from?”

With that, the shaman searched Ebony, but his body was bare—nothing hidden.

Baffled, the shaman then searched the masked nightjar as well, but again found nothing.

At that moment, Ye Chen drew his blade and severed one of Ebony’s arms.

Blood sprayed; the flesh of the arm instantly turned to ash, a faint green glow rising like vapor—clearly poisonous. What had just moments ago been fresh flesh now dissolved, even the bone reduced to powder. With a soft clatter, a bone token fell to the ground.

The bone token shone with a ghastly white light; the green mist was swiftly absorbed into it.

The shaman stepped back warily, eyeing the bone token. “What is that? Ebony went to such lengths to seal it inside his arm—must he have had some ulterior motive?”

Ye Chen picked up the token. Upon its surface was a sinister, grinning visage, and a chill swept over the land as if an evil wind had passed.

“Since the shaman has acted against the Nightjar Tribe, you must know something of its history,” Ye Chen said with a smile. “The Nightjar Tribe once had a totem. Later, by chance, they acquired a bone token, found it mysterious, and began to worship it as well. Little did they know, it would bring disaster.”

The shaman pursed his lips, saying nothing. He knew that Ye Chen must have gleaned some truth from Ebony’s memories; it was enough to listen in silence.

Ye Chen did not expect the shaman to respond, and continued, “That bone token comes from the depths of the Demon Ridge.”

“The depths of Demon Ridge?” the shaman exclaimed. “We struggle to survive even at the periphery. To venture deeper would invite unspeakable horrors—no one could return alive.”

“Indeed. The Nightjar Tribe was fortunate to obtain the bone token, but perhaps it was only the beginning of their misfortune.”