The compound had been poisoned long before anyone realized it.
Not in a sudden strike. Not in a clean assassination attempt. But in layers—quiet, deliberate, and patient enough that even Nascent Soul cultivators failed to notice it at first.
Veyr had started a week before the birthday.
Every meal he could influence. Every drink that passed through distribution. Every small opening in supply routes that no one thought twice about. Different poisons, different effects, all sourced from the black market outside the sect. Some were slow-acting. Some only reacted under specific conditions. Some remained dormant until the body tried to stabilize itself.
And by the time the birthday arrived, the entire compound had already been rewritten from the inside.
They just didn't know it yet.
Inside the banquet hall, the atmosphere was relaxed.
Too relaxed.
Nascent Soul cultivators sat scattered across the gathering space, speaking casually, some even smiling. To them, this was a controlled environment. Secure. Watched. Protected by formations that prevented intrusion. Nothing from the outside could reach them here.
That belief was their first mistake.
The second was thinking nothing had already entered.
Veyr was already inside the system.
Not loudly. Not openly. Just moving through the blind spots of perception, watching everything unfold exactly as he had prepared it.
He didn't act immediately.
He was waiting for timing.
And when it finally arrived, the first reaction was small.
A cultivator paused mid-sip.
Another frowned slightly, adjusting their breathing.
Someone else placed a hand on the table, as if grounding themselves for a reason they couldn't explain.
Then one of them collapsed to one knee.
That was when the room changed.
Not explosively.
Not all at once.
But like a crack spreading through glass.
Energy inside their bodies began to destabilize. Not destroyed. Not erased. Just interrupted in a way that made control harder with every passing second.
The poison wasn't killing them outright.
It was breaking their stability.
And for cultivators at that level, instability was worse than injury.
A second cultivator staggered.
Then another.
The Nascent Soul cultivators reacted immediately, forcing their energy inward, trying to expel the disturbance. At first, it worked partially. Some of the poison was being pushed out.
But that was when it fully activated.
All at once.
Different layers responding to each other, collapsing into a chain reaction designed to spread instability instead of force.
The hall erupted into chaos.
Not death yet.
Collapse.
And in that collapse—
Veyr moved.
He didn't need stealth anymore.
He needed timing.
The first guard died before he even realized he had shifted position. The second tried to call out but never finished the sound.
Everything was faster now because everything else was slower.
The poisoned cultivators were delayed. Their reactions dulled. Their control fractured in real time.
That was the advantage.
And Veyr used it without hesitation.
One by one, he cut through openings created by their instability. Not through overwhelming strength—but through precision in a collapsing environment.
But something changed quickly.
Too quickly.
The Nascent Soul cultivators began to stabilize.
Not fully.
But enough.
They were purging the poison.
Forcing it out of their systems through sheer cultivation pressure.
Within moments, their strength began returning.
Not all of it.
But enough to fight again.
And worse—
they realized something.
This wasn't random.
This wasn't an accident.
This was planned.
One of them spoke sharply, voice cutting through the chaos.
"There's someone inside."
That single sentence changed everything.
Their attention shifted inward.
Toward every presence.
Including Veyr.
The pressure locked onto him instantly.
He was no longer hidden.
Not fully.
Not anymore.
He killed another before the space around him tightened.
Then another.
But the balance had already shifted.
Too many of them were recovering at once.
He was surrounded.
And for the first time—
he was no longer ahead of the situation.
He stood still for a moment, breathing slowly, eyes scanning everything.
Not fear.
Understanding.
This was the gap he hadn't fully measured before.
Even poisoned, even unstable, even delayed—
they were still Nascent Soul cultivators.
And he wasn't.
That realization hit deeper than anything else so far.
He had been fighting like someone close to their level.
But there was still a wall.
A real one.
Not imagined.
Not theoretical.
A gap between half-step and true Nascent Soul that couldn't be crossed through aggression alone.
And now that the poison was wearing off—
that gap was fully visible.
One of the cultivators laughed suddenly.
Low at first.
Then louder.
"You really thought this would work?" he said, voice carrying through the hall. "A Foundation-level rat trying to move in a tiger's cage."
Another joined in, shaking his head. "He doesn't even understand concepts. He thinks timing and poison can replace realm comprehension."
The words weren't random insults.
They were realization.
They had seen through him.
Or thought they had.
Their strength continued returning.
And with it came confidence.
The same arrogance from before—but now backed by recovered power.
Veyr didn't respond.
Because something else was happening inside him.
The tribulation hadn't ended.
It was still there.
Waiting.
He could feel it.
Pressure building above the compound again.
But this time—
it felt wrong.
Stronger.
Angrier.
As if reacting to everything that had already happened.
The cultivators noticed too.
Their laughter slowed slightly.
But they didn't stop.
Because they believed they had regained control.
One of them looked at Veyr again, shaking his head slightly.
"A child pretending to stand in the same realm."
That was when Veyr finally understood something clearly.
He had misjudged the gap.
Not just strength.
But existence.
They weren't just stronger.
They were fundamentally beyond what he had been operating against so far.
Even poisoned.
Even delayed.
Even unstable.
They were still above him.
And now they were fully recovering.
That realization settled.
Quietly.
He exhaled once.
Slow.
Controlled.
Then made a decision.
If this was the end—
then it wouldn't be on their terms.
His energy began to rise again.
Not carefully.
Not structured.
But deliberately broken open.
The tribulation above reacted immediately.
Clouds thickened.
Pressure dropped.
Lightning gathered.
The cultivators finally noticed the change.
One of them frowned. "He's triggering it again?"
Another narrowed his eyes. "No… that's not a second breakthrough."
But Veyr didn't wait for them to understand.
Because he had already decided.
If he was going to die here—
he would drag them into it.
And if he survived this—
then the sect that sent him here to die would learn something far worse than failure.
They would learn fear.
Real fear.
The kind that doesn't stay in battlefields.
The kind that follows people home.
His eyes lifted slowly toward the sky as lightning began to descend again.
And in the silence before impact—
his voice finally came, low and steady.
"If I live… you all will regret." he was refering to his sect
Then the tribulation fell again.