Turns Out, I’m In A Villain Clan! Chapter 390 Mó Zūn

A sky heavy with an ominous foreboding hung over the world as the next day dawned.

The alarm signaling the return of the Demonic Beasts shrieked just as the first light of morning should have appeared.

Cultivators stood in a state of rigid silence along the battlefield's edge, their fingers already gripping their weapons.

Sleep had been a luxury many could not afford. Those who did manage to close their eyes found only fitful rest, waking at every noise with minds haunted by the echoes of slaughter and the scent of blood.

The task of clearing the battlefield of corpses had only just concluded.

The grim tally of the fallen had barely been finished.

And yet—

The tide of Demonic Beasts was returning.

RRWWWWRRR!

A deep, guttural roar surged from the horizon, shaking the ground like a rolling wave of thunder. With every passing second, the volume intensified until the very earth began to shudder.

"They're launching another assault already?!"

Disbelief and fury rippled through the ranks as the cry was taken up by others.

"Only one day has passed!"

"Have these creatures lost their minds?!"

This time, the frustration was voiced openly. Exhausted cultivators gripped their hilts, their faces drained of color and their eyes crimson from lack of sleep.

"We haven't even had the opportunity to recover!"

"Our Qi hasn't even been fully stabilized!"

While some spat out curses, others could only manage a hollow, bitter laugh.

"It seems they truly don't intend to let us catch our breath..."

However, beneath that heavy fatigue—

A burning rage ignited. Already incensed by the invasion, the defenders grew even more livid because they were being denied even a moment's respite.

"Fine! I was looking for a target to vent my anger on anyway."

"They'll pay for what happened yesterday. Every last one of them."

But the beasts were not the only ones arriving.

The Demonic Cultivators stepped into the light, making no effort to mask their presence.

The battlefield fell into a momentary, stunned hush.

Then—

A derisive scoff broke the silence.

"Oh? So they’ve finally decided to show their faces?"

"The cowards have stopped hiding, have they?"

Mockery began to rise from the ranks, sharp and defiant despite the underlying dread.

"What, were you worried we didn't see you yesterday?"

"Showing yourselves at last, are you?"

"Perhaps they finally grew bored of playing hide and seek!"

Despite their brazen appearance, the Demonic Cultivators did not immediately charge.

They simply stood in place, as if waiting for a signal.

It was then that a true sense of unease began to take root.

Anxious whispers spread through the soldiers of the Desolate Heaven Empire.

"Why are they just standing there?"

"Is this a stalling tactic?"

"It’s one thing for Demonic Cultivators to wait, but why aren't the Demonic Beasts lunging at us?"

That was the most unsettling detail.

The Demonic Beasts—creatures usually governed by raw instinct and a thirst for blood—remained unnaturally still.

Their massive silhouettes loomed over the field, claws sinking into the dirt and fangs bared, yet they did not move an inch.

They, too, were waiting for something to happen.

And then—

The atmosphere shifted entirely.

The air seemed to fracture as an abrupt pressure descended—immense, stifling, and absolute.

It was Immortal Qi. It was neither subtle nor restrained, but utterly overwhelming.

The sky appeared to sink lower, the clouds tightening as if squeezed by a giant, invisible hand.

Countless warriors felt their legs give way, their lungs gasping as if a mountain had been dropped onto their chests.

Before any defense could be mounted—

The Demonic Beasts moved. They bowed their heads.

Those colossal, savage monsters—the same ones that had shattered elite defenses—lowered themselves in unison, like commoners greeting a king.

Massive figures stepped out from behind the beast horde. Their auras were ancient, tyrannical, and terrifyingly refined.

Immortal Realm Demonic Beasts!

The earth cracked under the weight of every step they took, sending tremors across the field.

Their eyes shone with an intelligence that far surpassed common animals—cold, predatory, and calculating.

The whispering died out instantly.

But the revelations were not over.

Figures also emerged from the ranks of the Demonic Cultivators.

They moved with a calm, leisurely pace. Their Demonic Qi no longer swirled in a chaotic storm; instead, it was perfectly compressed and so dense it seemed to distort the space around them.

Immortal Realm Demonic Cultivators!

The realization struck the defenders like a physical blow.

"So... this is what they were waiting for."

Alarms blared across the battlefield. High above, powerful auras flared in response.

One after another, figures from the Desolate Heaven Empire ascended into the sky.

Orthodox Qi collided with Demonic Qi as Immortal Realm cultivators revealed themselves, steadying the vibrating battlefield.

"It looks like they are getting serious," Bai Ren remarked, a flicker of amusement crossing his features.

He narrowed his eyes at the Demonic Cultivators, spotting Gou You, whom he had fought before.

Beside Gou You stood two other Earth Immortals, including the supreme leader of the Demonic Cultivators—Mó Zün.

And that was merely the strength on the cultivator side.

Several Immortal Beasts had also manifested on the beast side. Among them, one creature commanded more attention than any other: a gargantuan, half-Qilin entity.

It bore the likeness of a Qilin but was clearly of mixed heritage—a hybrid carrying the prestigious Qilin bloodline. Its mere presence was enough to make both man and beast tremble with primal fear.

Every great Demonic Beast bowed low before it, an act of submission that was almost sacred in its orderliness.

The reason such savage beasts followed commands with such rare discipline became clear.

The central figure was no mere animal—it was a scion of the Qilin, exuding a majesty and authority that could force even the most feral creature to its knees.

Demonic Beasts were defined by the hierarchy of their bloodlines.

Power, instinct, and lordship were products of lineage as much as they were of cultivation.

The strongest among them could dominate lesser beasts simply through their pedigree and aura.

And the half-Qilin standing before them...

Its bloodline was its everything. Its command was absolute, and its power seemed boundless. It was no wonder the other Demonic Beasts, terrifying in their own right, obeyed without question, moving with the cold precision of elite soldiers under a sovereign's gaze.

There was no snarling, no hesitation, and no defiance—only the lethal, silent unity of creatures serving a ruler they could neither challenge nor ignore.

Then, the entity spoke.

It didn't roar or growl; instead, a voice rolled across the battlefield that was deep, resonant, and chillingly intelligent.

The sound vibrated through bone and earth alike, striking ice into the hearts of everyone present.

"Humans..."

The word carried a sense of inevitable doom, like a final judgment being passed.

"Your lives, your blood, and your lands—they are all mine to claim..."

A heavy silence followed. Cultivators stood frozen, white-knuckled as they held their weapons. Even the most seasoned veterans felt the crushing weight of that authoritative aura.

"However, I shall grant you one final opportunity," the Qilin Scion continued, its eyes sweeping over the gathered humans like a gathering storm.

"Surrender, and your lives may be spared. Resist, and none shall survive to see the tomorrow's sun."