The courtyard lay in shattered silence as dust and fragments of dark energy slowly settled over the fallen. Ye Chen's body, battered and broken against a stone pillar, trembled feebly in the aftermath of the crushing blow. The roar of the final strike had faded into a haunting stillness—a silence punctuated only by ragged breaths and the distant creaks of ancient wood.
For a long, suspended moment, every soul in the Ye Clan's training ground bore witness to a truth none could deny: Ye Bai had unleashed a power beyond mortal comprehension. The very air vibrated with the residue of his forbidden might, a dark aura that seemed to twist reality itself.
In the immediate aftermath, the assembled disciples found themselves rooted to the spot. Shock mingled with a dawning terror. Some covered their mouths in disbelief, while others instinctively retreated, eyes wide with dread. Their murmurs, hushed and tremulous, echoed like ghosts among the ruins of their once-familiar training ground.
"It… it isn't natural…" whispered one disciple, his voice quavering as he stared at the swirling remnants of dark energy that still clung to Ye Bai. Another, more confident but equally unsettled, added, "He… he wields something no one should dare touch. This power… it reeks of forbidden arts."
The very name "forbidden" sent shivers down spines. They had heard legends of the Shadow Immortal Codex—tales of a dark technique lost to time, rumored to be the mark of those who flirted with the abyss. Now, here it was, pulsing in the veins of a man once ridiculed as a cripple.
From the far end of the courtyard, the Ye Clan elders advanced, their every step heavy with authority and unease. At their forefront strode Ye Tianhao, his eyes narrowing as he surveyed the chaos before him. His voice, deep and resonant, broke the oppressive silence.
"Ye Bai," he intoned, his tone both commanding and laden with an unspoken warning. "Explain this… transformation. What dark art have you embraced?"
Elder Ye Zhen, standing beside him, peered at Ye Bai with a mixture of suspicion and disbelief. "Our teachings forbid any dalliance with demonic or shadow techniques. Your power—this… this is not the work of a mere cultivator who has suffered. It is something else entirely."
Their words, weighted with centuries of tradition and caution, rang out like a death knell. Even as they spoke, a flicker of recognition and dread danced in their eyes. They had seen the legends, the warnings inscribed in the ancient texts of the clan, and now faced the living embodiment of that dark prophecy.
Ye Bai's chest rose and fell slowly as he regarded the gathered elders. The exhilaration of victory mingled with a deeper, almost palpable undercurrent of dread. His heart pounded—not merely from the adrenaline of battle, but from an internal struggle that had begun to stir.
He met elder Ye Tianhao's gaze, the flickering shadows in his eyes betraying both his newfound confidence and an unspoken fear. "I have only defended myself," he replied evenly, though his voice carried the weight of a man transformed. "The oppression and cruelty I endured have been answered with a power I never dreamed I could wield."
A murmur spread among the elders. The notion that a once-crippled disciple could suddenly rise with such might defied the natural order they had long upheld. Yet, as each elder exchanged glances, there was no denying the undeniable truth in Ye Bai's words—his power was real, and it surged within him with every beat of his heart.
But even as the clan's leaders demanded answers, inside Ye Bai's mind a tempest raged. Memories of a lifetime steeped in humiliation and despair surged up—each taunt, each sneer from his tormentors, every cruel word uttered in his presence. They all echoed now, fueling a bitter fire that had long lain dormant beneath his skin.
He recalled the countless nights spent shivering under the weight of disgrace, the bitter taste of tears mingled with rain, and the hollow promise of redemption that had always slipped through his fingers. Now, as he stood before his elders, every slight, every memory, was sharpened into a weapon of truth.
Yet, amidst that raging storm of vengeance, a subtler thought crept into his mind, a question as old as fate itself. What did this power demand? The forbidden Codex had fused with his soul, granting him strength beyond mortal ken, but at what cost? In the dark recesses of his mind, amidst the swirling memories of a past life when he had been a legendary cultivator known as Jiang Tian, a single thought emerged: this power, as intoxicating as it was, carried a price far heavier than mere rejection by his clan.
He felt the Codex's presence like a whisper at the back of his mind, urging him to unleash its full potential. It promised invincibility, retribution, and the shattering of all that had wronged him. And yet, it also loomed as an ever-present specter—a reminder that to wield such forbidden might was to court the wrath of forces beyond mortal control.
In that moment of introspection, Ye Bai's eyes flickered. They shone with the glow of the forbidden power, yet beneath that glimmer lay uncertainty—a hesitant acknowledgment of the dark path he now trod. For all the pain he had suffered, a part of him trembled at the thought of what he might become if he surrendered entirely to the Codex's call.
Ye Bai was in a deep thought of his own.
The silence that followed was brittle, strained as the elders' words hung in the air. Ye Ming, still reeling from his own pain and humiliation, managed a trembling cough before speaking, his voice raw with venom. "You dare flaunt this… this unholy power in front of us? You, who were nothing but a cripple, now wield the strength of demons? How can we trust what you have become?"
His words, meant to incite and belittle, were laced with both fear and envy—a recognition that the natural order of their clan had been upended. Yet, they also revealed the true nature of Ye Ming's own heart: a bitter cocktail of jealousy and resentment, sharpened by years of being in the shadow of Ye Bai's suffering.
"Enough," barked another elder, his voice echoing off the stone walls of the courtyard. "This is not the time for petty squabbles among disciples. We must determine whether this power is a curse or a gift."
Elder Ye Tianhao's gaze hardened as he stepped forward. "Ye Bai, if you claim that your strength is born of hardship, then prove that you have not forsaken the principles of our clan. You must face a trial—against one of our brightest, to prove that your power serves the clan's honor, not your own twisted vendetta." he said.
The decree sent a shiver through the gathered disciples. The trial was not merely a test of martial ability; it was a crucible through which the very soul of the cultivator would be judged. It would determine whether Ye Bai was to be embraced as a prodigy reborn or cast out as a dangerous aberration.
A murmur of anticipation rippled through the crowd. The tension was palpable—an electric charge in the air as each disciple realized that their future, too, might be altered by the outcome of this trial.
Ye Bai stood were he was, he expression calm and unreasonable.
As Elder Ye Tianhao's words faded, the atmosphere shifted. The once chaotic echoes of battle now gave way to a more somber mood. The wounded still lay scattered, a silent testimony to the ferocity of the confrontation. Ye Chen's labored breaths were the only sound that punctuated the heavy quiet, a reminder of the mortal cost of this display of power.
Ye Bai, standing amid the debris of shattered expectations, felt the enormity of the moment press down upon him. Every eye in the courtyard was fixed on him—the hopeful, the fearful, and the vengeful all intermingled in that one charged space. He knew that the trial demanded more than a show of strength; it required the unveiling of his true self, stripped of the shame that had once defined him.
For a long, aching moment, Ye Bai closed his eyes. The quiet, inward battle raged—between the memories of his former, broken self and the relentless call of the dark power that now surged within him. In that silence, he heard the distant echoes of his past life: a legendary Jiang Tian whose ambition had once shaken the heavens, a man who had dared to defy fate even at the cost of his own soul.
A cold determination set in. He would not allow the scars of humiliation to bind him any longer. Yet, he also recognized that the power he now wielded was a double-edged sword. To embrace it fully meant risking the loss of the very humanity he had fought so hard to reclaim. That paradox weighed on him like a thousand burdens.
Slowly, he opened his eyes, now gleaming with a mixture of defiance and sorrow. And then he spoke. "I will face the trial," he declared, his voice steady despite the tumult raging inside him. "Not for vengeance alone, but to prove that this power—this destiny—belongs to me, and that I shall forge a future free from the chains of my past."
A collective breath was held among the elders and disciples alike. In that moment, the trial was no longer a mere formality—it was a turning point for the entire Ye Clan, a test that would redefine its future.