Chapter 9: The Violet-Winged Butterfly

Shanjin Town, an unremarkable courtyard. Beneath it lay a secret, expansive space unknown to outsiders, its four sides lined with massive display cases. A single oil lamp burned, illuminating the dim cellar, casting light over the shelves. In the thousands of tiny compartments, all manners of animal specimens were neatly placed, each immersed in a peculiar pale green liquid that emitted a pungent, uric acid scent.

Charles sat at the desk, pen in hand, as a complex and strange pattern slowly took shape beneath his strokes. It looked like a tangled mass, yet held an odd, harmonious rhythm. This was the foundational inheritance factor of the totem—like the fingers on a human hand—only a small part of a complete totem, yet more intricate than the blueprints for a two-story villa.

Bruce’s eyes shone as he watched, full of admiration. “I didn’t expect you to grasp the basics in less than ten days, and your skill is nearly at the proficient level!”

“It’s all thanks to your notes, teacher. I was able to master the drawing of inheritance factors so quickly because of the detailed explanations.” Charles replied with a reserved smile, offering a modest compliment and looking at his teacher with hopeful anticipation.

“Teacher, may I start learning runes next?”

“You’re still far from ready. To study runes, you need extraordinarily nimble gestures. Drafting is how you train the steadiness and flexibility of your fingers and arms; only once you reach proficiency will learning runes become easy for you.” Bruce shook his head, his expression stern, and in the tone of a disappointed but patient instructor, he continued, “If you want to go further in the future, you must lay a solid foundation, and drafting is the bedrock of everything.”

“Teacher, I think I’ve already reached proficiency…” Charles murmured weakly. Realizing that revealing his beginner’s level hadn’t moved his teacher, he reluctantly showed more of his hand.

“Ha! Do you even understand what ‘proficient’ means?” Bruce looked at him incredulously, as if he were joking. “Even the most gifted Lifeweavers need half a year to reach that stage. Back in my day, getting there in three months only put me in the top ten of my academy.”

Bruce was clearly proud of this, tossing his golden hair so that it shimmered in the lamplight, dazzling Charles for a moment.

Charles pressed his lips together and interrupted his teacher’s boasting. “Teacher, why not let me try? You’ll see for yourself.”

“Proficiency means you can manifest the inheritance factor. You’ve only practiced for ten days and haven’t even seen a true inheritance factor. How could you possibly draw one?” Bruce shook his head again, looking at him with deep disappointment. “Young man, you must learn to calm your mind. Don’t aim too high, too soon—it will do you no good.”

Charles felt an odd frustration. His teacher, so refined and gentlemanly before, was now nagging like an old woman fussing endlessly.

He placed his right hand over his chest, bowed deeply, and said in a clear voice, “Teacher Bruce, please let me see an inheritance factor. Let me try to draw it!”

“You really are persistent!”

Bruce shook his head, his disappointment growing. His pale blue eyes fixed on Charles for a few moments before he sighed, “Very well. Let me show you what an inheritance factor really is!”

Charles felt a jolt run through him. After all that lecturing, Bruce was finally about to show something substantial.

According to the notes, to see an inheritance factor, one must analyze a living creature. But it wasn’t the sort of dissection you might imagine, slicing open lab mice on a table. Instead, it involved channeling Source Energy, casting a scanning rune to envelop the subject—like an X-ray, it would scan every layer, creating a three-dimensional map.

Then came the crucial analytical process: using a special analytic rune, as precise as the most advanced computer, automatically identifying the inheritance factors hidden within the map. Through this, the Lifeweaver’s own knowledge of biology became the driving force, pushing the analytic rune to delve ever deeper. The richer the knowledge, the more thorough the research, and the more complete the inheritance factor would be.

Only by grasping a sufficiently complete inheritance factor could the totem evolve!

“In every creature lies an inheritance factor, guiding its path of future evolution. A single being may contain many inheritance factors, meaning it could evolve in many different ways. Now, let me show you a complete inheritance factor of a totem.”

Charles’ eyes widened, unblinking, as he watched Bruce’s next move.

Bruce produced a black crystal the size of a marble and held it in his palm. With a flex of his fingers, a stream of gray energy wafted from the crystal into his hand. The crystal’s color rapidly faded until it became clear as glass, then burst like a bubble, scattering as fine dust to the floor.

Bruce’s hands traced strange patterns in the air, reminiscent of Daoist seals, his fingers forming intricate gestures in the blink of an eye.

A faint hum sounded. Suddenly, a pale blue halo appeared before him. As the glow dissipated, a butterfly the size of a washbasin materialized in the center.

Its head bore a turquoise, nose-like protuberance, and a pair of deep red compound eyes. Its broad, pale blue wings fluttered gently, marked with alternating black and white veins that shimmered with phosphorescence as they moved.

Charles inhaled a trace of the fine dust and was suddenly overcome by dizziness and drowsiness.

“This is a Violetwing Butterfly. It typically dwells in forests or woodland areas, especially damp, misty regions. The one you see now is one I caught in the Twilight Forest.”

Bruce displayed the butterfly for a moment, then casually performed another series of complex gestures. Instantly, a faint circle of light appeared, enclosing the massive butterfly.

He smiled. “The Violetwing’s wings are covered with fine waterproof scales. When they flutter, these scales fall off and release a potent toxin—enough to knock an ordinary person unconscious.”

A flicker of fear crossed Charles’ eyes. He hadn’t expected that a low-grade totem, so common in the games and seemingly harmless, could be so terrifying in reality.

“You lack the protection of Guardian Light, so you can’t withstand the toxin. This is the greatest difference between ordinary people and Lifeweavers. Even the weakest Guardian Light can resist the attacks of the mightiest human fighters!”

Bruce’s tone brimmed with arrogance, his disdain for warriors clear.

He then formed another series of intricate hand seals, speaking calmly, “Now, I’ll show you a complete inheritance factor map. Watch closely!”

Silvery lines appeared in the air, weaving in and out of the Violetwing’s body until it was cocooned in a mesh of light. After a moment, strange patterns emerged from the butterfly, each one radiating a mysterious power that instantly captivated Charles, drawing him in so deeply he could not break free.

“There aren’t so many prodigies in this world—here’s another who overestimates himself.” Bruce shook his head, fully aware of the truth.

Inheritance factors were not for just anyone to witness. It was a form of learning that could not be interrupted at will. Without comprehension, one could not break free—only external force could interrupt the process. If forcibly pulled away, at best the observer would be left mentally drained for days; at worst, rendered an idiot.

Just as Bruce was about to intervene, he saw Charles raise his head, eyes shining with brilliance. “Teacher, I understand!”

“You’re all right?” Bruce was astonished, not expecting Charles to break free on his own.

Charles shook his head, strode to the desk, picked up a quill, and began drawing in bold, flowing strokes. Line after line, pattern after pattern, quickly filled a piece of parchment larger than a newspaper.

When Bruce glanced at the drawing, he froze in disbelief. “You actually understood it… How is that possible?!”