Phantasmal Eye

Agony!

Chen Feng's face was ghostly pale, the searing pain not lessening over time, but intensifying, gnawing at him like a ravenous beast. It felt as though a swarm of insects crawled within his eye socket, writhing and biting—both excruciating and maddeningly itchy. Even with Chen Feng's iron will, his body trembled involuntarily. The blood and flesh of the Infernal Butterfly fused within the gaping wound, as something unnatural—a new eye—began to take shape.

The process was unbearable.

For any summoner, attempting a sacrificial fusion like this required more than physical endurance. It demanded the strength to endure unrelenting pain, both of the flesh and of the mind. Failure to control either would lead to utter ruin.

A Rebirth.

No one knew how long had passed when the torment finally began to subside, replaced by a dull numbness. Chen Feng, panting, dragged himself to a nearby mirror. His reflection stared back—ashen, drenched in cold sweat, his face a ghastly mask of suffering. His right eye remained unchanged, dark as the abyss. But the left… The left had transformed. Its iris had turned a sickly pale green, four small dots surrounding the pupil like the markings of the Infernal Butterfly.

It had worked.

Through sheer force of will, Chen Feng had survived the fusion. But the price was steep. Sacrificing part of oneself to merge with a monster was always a perilous gamble. While it granted the summoner access to the creature's power, there were always consequences lurking beneath the surface.

The Abyss is home to things far worse than summoned beasts—dark casters, skeletal warlocks, ancient horrors waiting for the right moment to crawl from the shadows. And summoning was like a beacon to them. The moment they sensed a summoner's call, they could invade—not just physically, but mentally. They would devour the summoner's consciousness, wearing the human's body like a hollow skin, reborn into the world.

It had happened before.

This is why summoners practicing forbidden rites often hired psychic sorcerers as safeguards. Should things go awry, the sorcerer would obliterate the foreign memories that threatened the summoner's mind.

But Chen Feng had no psychic at his side.

Worse still, not only did abyssal creatures resist, but even the dying consciousness of the beings whose flesh was used in the fusion would wage a desperate, mental battle for control.

It wasn't over.

Though his new eye had formed, the consciousness of the Infernal Butterfly still lurked within. Without help, Chen Feng had only his own strength to eradicate it.

Only by fully annihilating the Infernal Butterfly's lingering will could the fusion be complete.

Buzz!

A tremor jolted through Chen Feng's mind, and fragmented images flashed before his vision—memories not his own, disjointed and chaotic, crashing into him like waves. He saw a caterpillar's slow metamorphosis into a cocoon, its agonizing struggle before emerging as a butterfly. The memories painted a picture of survival through deception and manipulation. Faces appeared—humans, monsters, victims—all crushed under the weight of the Infernal Butterfly's illusions.

Wang Yong's face flickered in and out, twisted in torment.

Then came the memory of meeting Chen Feng...

Suddenly, those calm memories turned violent, a storm of wrath and despair surging through his mind, clawing at his consciousness. The butterfly's resentment poured in, like venom seeking to corrode his thoughts.

"Even in death, you try to devour me? You think to drown me in your memories, forcing me to become something neither human nor insect?" Chen Feng's voice dripped with venom. "If I allow these memories to take root, I will begin to act like an insect, preferring damp corners, lurking in shadows."

"Even worse, my actions will grow increasingly erratic, knowing full well that everything is wrong, yet slowly sinking into madness, my consciousness decaying until I become a lunatic."

This was the tipping point.

Many summoners had succumbed at this stage, allowing the foreign consciousness to warp their minds. Their humanity eroded, replaced by a bloodthirsty, predatory instinct. They became little more than ravenous creatures, obsessed with flesh and decay.

Chen Feng's eyes widened as he grasped the Infernal Butterfly's malevolent intent. His fists clenched tightly, a flash of cold fury gleaming in his left eye.

"Hmph! You think you can take me over? You've merged with my body, and you still think you can resist? You will find it's not so simple."

Chen Feng's voice thundered through the air, and in a single, devastating surge, his spiritual power erupted like a blade—sharp, precise, and deadly. It sliced through the unseen, leaving the Infernal Butterfly nowhere to hide. No matter how deeply its resentment festered, it was powerless against the onslaught.

Two lifetimes of experience.

Chen Feng had long mastered the control of his spiritual strength.

A storm tore through the memories in his mind, shredding them apart, each fragment dissolving as they were absorbed, becoming nothing more than nourishment for his power.

With a single, deliberate thought, Chen Feng channeled his spiritual energy into his left eye. The mottled green markings around his pupil began to spin, twisting into intricate patterns that shimmered in the air before him.

Complete control.

The Infernal Butterfly's power was his to command. Its lingering resentment—gone, extinguished in a moment of sheer force.

The Phantasmal Eye.

By merging with the flesh and blood of the Infernal Butterfly, Chen Feng had gained far more than just power—he had inherited its abilities. Now, he could ensnare his enemies in illusions so deep, so suffocating, that escape was impossible. With a single glance, he could trap them in a reality of his own making, leaving them at his mercy.

Master of Illusions.

This new power was a weapon, a deadly trump card. In the chaos of battle, a single look would be enough to disorient and doom his foes. Even a moment's hesitation could mean death.

Chen Feng was no insect tamer like Wang Yong. He was a summoner, a manipulator of forces far greater. Once an enemy fell into his illusion, even for a fraction of a second, it would be enough for the Dark Elf to fire a killing arrow, sealing their fate.

"Hoo..." Chen Feng exhaled slowly, his breath steady, yet heavy with the weight of his actions.

The bloodstain on the floor remained, a dark reminder that what had just transpired was no mere illusion. The brutal reality of tearing out his own eye, fusing with the Infernal Butterfly's essence—it was bloody, cruel, but necessary.

His left eye was no longer his own.

It had transformed into the Phantasmal Eye, capable of weaving endless illusions, of distorting reality itself. It was as though the entirety of the Infernal Butterfly had been sealed within his gaze. Its consciousness was gone, but its powers were his to wield.

And as Chen Feng's strength grew, so too would the power of the eye. What new abilities lay dormant within it, waiting to be awakened, he could only imagine.

But the ordeal had left its mark.

The pain was gone, but the mental strain was overwhelming. Chen Feng's body cried out for rest, his mind heavy with fatigue.

Rest.

It was the only thing that could restore him now. Fortunately, Wei Xun was overseeing the camp outside. While not perfect, Wei Xun was competent enough, and maintaining control of the camp wouldn't be an issue.

Weariness washed over him like a dark tide.

Chen Feng collapsed onto the bed, his body sinking into the softness as exhaustion took him. His eyelids fluttered shut, and soon, he was consumed by a deep, dreamless sleep, where even the horrors he had faced could not follow... for now.