The competition moved forward, the atmosphere in the Xuantian Sect brimming with excitement and tension. Ye Chen's decisive victory over Lu Han had silenced many doubters, but it also painted a target on his back. Whispers of his strength spread throughout the sect, drawing admiration from some and envy from others.
As Ye Chen sat cross-legged in meditation near the arena's preparation area, he felt a strange unease creeping into his thoughts. It wasn't fear but the faint sense that someone was watching him, their intent hidden in the shadows.
In a dimly lit chamber within the inner disciple quarters, Li Haotian and Wang Zhi gathered with several others. Among them was Sun Liang, a powerful core disciple known for his ruthless methods and his mastery of poison arts.
"You've brought me here for one reason," Sun Liang said with a cold smile, his eyes glinting with malice. "To deal with this Ye Chen. What's the plan?"
Wang Zhi leaned forward, his voice low. "We can't beat him head-on. He's too strong. But even the mightiest swordsman is useless if their body betrays them."
Sun Liang chuckled darkly. "Poison, then. Simple and effective. I have just the thing—Silent Wraith Powder. It's colorless, odorless, and it works over time, weakening the target until they collapse. By the time he realizes something is wrong, it'll be too late."
Li Haotian's lips curled into a cruel smile. "Good. Make sure it's done before his next match. I want him humiliated before the entire sect."
Unaware of the plot against him, Ye Chen continued to watch the matches unfold. The battles grew fiercer as disciples fought to prove their worth, each match showcasing the diversity of techniques and abilities within the Xuantian Sect.
The announcer's voice echoed across the arena. "Next match: Ye Chen versus Zhao Ming!"
Zhao Ming was another core disciple, known for his mastery of fire arts. As he stepped into the arena, flames flickered faintly around his body, his confidence radiating as he sized up Ye Chen.
"So, you're the so-called genius everyone's talking about," Zhao Ming said, smirking. "Let's see if you can handle real power."
Ye Chen unsheathed his sword, his expression calm. "You talk too much."
The crowd fell silent as the two opponents faced off, the air between them charged with energy.
The fight began explosively. Zhao Ming launched a barrage of fireballs, their heat scorching the air as they hurtled toward Ye Chen. But Ye Chen moved like a shadow, his speed and precision unmatched. With a single sweep of his sword, he dispersed the flames, his blade cutting through the fiery onslaught with ease.
Zhao Ming's smirk faltered. He poured more spiritual energy into his attacks, summoning a massive wave of fire that roared toward Ye Chen like a dragon.
But Ye Chen didn't falter. He raised his sword, and a burst of sword intent erupted from its blade. The energy cleaved through the fire dragon, splitting it in two and dissipating it into harmless embers.
The crowd erupted in cheers, but Ye Chen remained focused. He could feel something off within his body—a faint weakness that hadn't been there before.
As the fight continued, Zhao Ming grew desperate. He charged at Ye Chen, his fists wreathed in flames, but Ye Chen sidestepped effortlessly. With a swift counterstrike, Ye Chen disarmed Zhao Ming, sending him sprawling to the ground.
"I yield!" Zhao Ming shouted, his voice shaking.
Ye Chen stepped back, sheathing his sword as the crowd roared with applause. Yet, as he left the arena, a cold sweat broke out on his brow. The weakness he felt earlier had grown stronger, his steps slightly unsteady.
Back in the preparation area, Ye Chen sat quietly, his hand pressed against his chest. His breathing was shallow, and his vision blurred for a moment before clearing again.
"What's happening?" he muttered to himself. "This isn't normal."
Lin Yue appeared at his side, her sharp eyes immediately noticing something was wrong.
"Ye Chen, are you okay?" she asked, concern evident in her tone.
"I'm fine," Ye Chen replied, though his voice was strained.
"You don't look fine," Lin Yue said firmly. "Something's wrong, isn't it?"
Ye Chen hesitated but nodded slightly. "It feels like… my spiritual energy is being suppressed. But I don't know how."
Lin Yue frowned, her gaze narrowing. "Poison, perhaps? It's not uncommon in competitions like this, especially when someone like you is upsetting the balance."
Ye Chen's expression darkened. "Poison?"
"I'll look into it," Lin Yue said, her voice determined. "You focus on recovering your strength. Don't trust anyone in the meantime."
As Lin Yue disappeared into the crowd, Ye Chen closed his eyes and focused inward. He circulated his spiritual energy, trying to expel whatever was affecting him. The process was slow and painful, but he could feel the faint poison weakening under his efforts.
"Whoever did this will pay," Ye Chen thought, his resolve hardening.
Meanwhile, Lin Yue's investigation led her to a quiet corner of the sect where she overheard Wang Zhi and Sun Liang talking in hushed tones.
"It's working perfectly," Sun Liang said, smirking. "The Silent Wraith Powder is already in his system. By his next match, he'll barely be able to stand."
Lin Yue clenched her fists, her anger flaring. She slipped away silently, her mind racing.
"I have to warn Ye Chen before it's too late," she thought, her pace quickening.
As the day wore on, Ye Chen's name was called for his next match. The crowd's excitement was palpable, but Ye Chen's steps were heavier than before, his body fighting against the lingering effects of the poison.
From the stands, Wang Zhi and Li Haotian watched with smug satisfaction.
"Let's see how he handles this," Li Haotian said with a sneer.
But as Ye Chen stepped into the arena, his gaze was as sharp as ever, his grip on his sword unwavering.
Even poisoned, he refused to back down. The storm within him was only beginning to rise.