Chapter 45: The Plot in the Shadows

On the morning of the semifinals, the dawn brought no warmth; instead, it cast a cold, gauzy veil over the Outer Sect of Azure Cloud. Around the arena in the martial training grounds, the crowds surged more fiercely than usual, the air thick with a nearly stagnant expectation and tension.

Bai Yueyin slowly opened her eyes in the wooden cabin. After a night of meditation and with the aid of the elixir given to her by Zhou Qingwan, most of her injuries had healed. Her spiritual energy was replenished, and after days of arduous battles, it now felt more refined than before.

Her condition was not perfect, but she was certainly fit for another fight.

She rose, carefully checking her own state, then gently stroked the long sword wrapped in gray cloth on the table.

“How do you feel? Are you sure you can fight?” Ye Ming’s tone was unusually serious, lacking its typical levity. Zhou Qingwan’s warning yesterday had set him on edge as well.

“I’ll manage,” Bai Yueyin answered inwardly, beginning her final preparations.

She fetched a cup of clean water, intending to clear her throat and mind, so she could face the coming battle in her best state.

But just as her fingers were about to touch the cup, Ye Ming perceived a strange fluctuation of energy and urgently warned her, “Stop! There’s something wrong with that water—don’t touch it!”

Almost simultaneously, as Bai Yueyin hesitated at Ye Ming’s warning, a subtle surge of energy within the seemingly pure water suddenly activated. An invisible, colorless chill shot out, lunging straight for her face.

The attack was so bizarre and sudden that it was utterly beyond the bounds of ordinary threats. Bai Yueyin had no time to react.

At that critical moment, a faint, nearly transparent blue-black glow surged from the scabbard at her waist, forming a translucent barrier before her.

It was Ye Ming's Spirit Veil, triggered by instinct.

The icy breath crashed into the barrier, which shuddered violently and flickered with light, evidence of the attack’s formidable penetrative force.

A sound, as soft as a bubble popping, pierced the air. The Spirit Veil, hastily formed, failed to block the sinister strike completely and was ripped apart. Yet, the assault was significantly weakened by the obstruction, reduced to a lingering trace that still stubbornly struck Bai Yueyin.

She felt a thread of icy coldness burrow into the skin at her brow, then rapidly spread, piercing into her mind. A wave of dizziness and nausea followed, her limbs freezing as if encased in ice, and even her spiritual energy became sluggish.

She stifled a groan, staggering back two steps and gripping the table to steady herself. Her face turned a mottled shade of pale blue.

“Those despicable bastards—resorting to poison!” Ye Ming’s voice erupted with a fury she’d never heard before—the kind of rage that only comes when someone dear is threatened. “Who did this? I didn’t sense anything amiss before.”

Without hesitation or thought for the cost, Ye Ming’s spirit energy within the sword surged at an unprecedented rate. The Spirit Reversal technique was pushed to its limit, no longer the gentle, steady nourishment of before, but a torrential, scorching flood of spirit energy that forcefully swept into Bai Yueyin’s meridians.

This current, overwhelming yet precise, homed in on the cold poison invading her body, enveloping it completely and beginning the slow work of purification.

Bai Yueyin’s body trembled violently, feeling the fiery and icy energies clashing within her, pain so intense it nearly forced her to curl up. But she gritted her teeth, enduring the torment, and mustered her own spiritual power to assist Ye Ming’s ruthless but effective reversal, guiding the energy to besiege the poison.

Someone had truly tried to poison her!

She was shocked and angry, but mostly shaken. If not for Ye Ming’s extraordinary perception and timely warning, she would have been paralyzed by the poison, left helpless for anyone to deal with.

Who was it? Yao Feng? Or… Zhu Yu?

“Hold on! Let’s get this poison out first!” Ye Ming poured out his spirit energy without reservation, even risking the damage of his own essence. The sword’s body grew hot, the spiritual light beneath the gray cloth flickering erratically.

The sinister poison was cunning and stubborn, but under Ye Ming’s relentless assault and Bai Yueyin’s fierce will, it was gradually forced back and purified.

The process was agonizing and slow. Sweat beaded on Bai Yueyin’s brow as her body alternated between chills and fever.

At last, she opened her mouth and spat out a small clot of dark, chilled blood.

The blood splattered on the floor, sizzling faintly as it corroded the wood, releasing a metallic stench. With the poison expelled, the sickening cold in her body quickly faded. Though weakened from the ordeal, her spiritual power flowed smoothly again, and the dizziness vanished.

She gasped for breath, staring at the poisonous blood on the floor, still shaken.

On the table, the long sword’s light had grown dimmer than after even yesterday’s battle, and the thoughts it transmitted were laced with profound exhaustion.

“Damn it… what a loss…” Ye Ming’s voice grew feeble, though the anger had not dissipated. “Whoever dared to harm you like this… if I ever catch them…”

His words faded, the sword falling silent as its spirit entered a protective slumber from overexertion.

Bai Yueyin reached out, gripping the cold hilt, a surge of indescribable emotion swelling within her—fear, anger, and a deep, unnameable sense of being moved.

She had felt Ye Ming’s desperate protection and outburst, clear as day.

“Thank you,” she whispered, knowing well he might not have the strength to answer.

Her gaze turned icy, as if glazed over with frost.

To resort to poison before the match—such despicable behavior had crossed her final line.

She carefully cleaned away the poisonous blood and checked every item in the room, ensuring there were no further threats.

Once done, she straightened her back. Though left slightly weakened by the ordeal, her eyes were sharper and more resolute than ever.

Her spiritual energy, stirred to action by Ye Ming’s fierce intervention, was livelier than before.

She glanced at the sword, now dull and dim, and gently wrapped it again in the gray cloth before slinging it onto her back.

She pushed open the wooden door. The morning light was blinding.

The finals had not yet begun, and already, blood had been drawn in the shadows.