Turns Out, I’m In A Villain Clan! Chapter 428 Paths to Downfall
Previously on Turns Out, I’m In A Villain Clan!...
The room hung in utter silence.
A space so tense that even the softest breath seemed to violate its hush.
Leaders from the Li Clan and Zhao Clan had assembled in a fortified chamber, surrounded by multiple protective arrays that cut off all external connections.
Dimly glowing lanterns threw elongated shadows over the rugged walls etched with ancestral emblems—marks that formerly symbolized absolute dominance.
These days, however, they appeared... faded.
The conflict against the Demonic Forces had essentially concluded.
The Beast Tide stood repelled.
The Demonic Cultivators had pulled back.
The Desolate Heaven Empire was busy drafting announcements of triumph.
But within these walls, not a hint of joy lingered.
No easing of tension.
No swell of honor.
No feeling of conquest.
Just shadows of dread and discomfort.
For the Li and Zhao Clans, the toll of this war far outweighed any gains.
Their casualties mounted to devastating heights.
The Li Clan had suffered the death of a Grand Elder at the Earth Immortal Realm—a devastating blow indeed.
Their very roots trembled deeply.
Compared to the Bai Clan, whose minimal sacrifices contrasted with their maximal efforts, the losses here seemed overwhelming.
"The Bai Clan..."
That name now bore immense gravity.
In the past, it echoed as a peer.
A competitor.
Today, it fell with hesitation.
And wariness.
Prior to the war, Bai Zihan had stood out as a freakish prodigy—one who shattered norms and exceeded all predictions.
Every effort to curb his rise only fueled his ascent into greater peril.
Yet that challenge remained containable.
At least, that's what they assumed.
But currently?
Bai Zihan wasn't the sole concern.
There was Bai Ren.
Bai Xueqing.
The Bai Clan's Grand Elders.
And various other members of the Bai Clan had evidently experienced a profound shift.
The Bai Clan's power surpassed all prior knowledge and forecasts.
Their advancement operated on a scale beyond any prior estimates.
And furthermore—
The Saint-grade sword.
The atmosphere in the chamber thickened further at the mere recollection.
Though it proved lucky that the Bai Clan exposed their hidden ace amid the Beast Tide, it underscored their vast superiority over the rest.
In the short period since the Beast Tide's defeat, the sway of these two clans had waned sharply, whereas the Bai Clan's prominence had surged dramatically. Every faction—even former partners—now sought bonds with the Bai Clan.
BANG!
Li Jianhong's palm crashed against the stone surface.
The impact reverberated harshly inside the isolated space.
His face twisted in shadow, subtle veins pulsing at his forehead.
The shame, the strain, the powerlessness—all surged forth in that forceful blow.
"The Bai Clan holds too much power! Zhao Wutian," Li Jianhong uttered, his tone deep and taut, laced with scarcely contained rage, "what's our next move?"
His stare fixed upon the Zhao Clan Patriarch.
"If things keep going like this," he pressed on somberly, "the Bai Clan will devour our two clans
completely."
The statement left a sour aftertaste.
Li Jianhong had long embodied arrogance.
As Li Clan leader, he towered over multitudes, earning deference through might and command.
He trusted that the united front of Li and Zhao Clans rendered them impervious to any lone adversary.
Yet now—
Harsh facts bore down without mercy.
Despite his ego, Li Jianhong grasped the reality.
The Bai Clan had grown beyond his grasp.
Not even with Zhao Clan support.
That single Saint-grade sword could dismantle every strategy passed down through eras.
Layer on the Bai Clan's fearsome method that felled the Half-Qilin.
Nearly nobody—maybe not even their mightiest forebear—could endure such a strike.
"Should the Bai Clan strike," Li Jianhong murmured deliberately, his words laden, "we'd stand no chance in battle."
Quietness enveloped his declaration.
A few elders bowed their heads low.
Some gripped their fists hidden in sleeves.
Not a soul challenged him, for all recognized the stark honesty in his assessment.
Even Li Jianhong, who shunned vulnerability, conceded as much.
The equilibrium lay shattered.
What confronted them wasn't mere competition—it was a fight for existence.
"Steady yourself, Li Jianhong!"
Zhao Wutian responded evenly.
Unlike Li Jianhong's rage and hopelessness, Zhao Wutian stayed seated, unruffled.
In truth, a subtle grin began to form at the edges of his mouth.
That expression seized the focus of all present.
Li Jianhong's gaze sharpened.
"Steady? You call this steady?" he barked. "Zhao Wutian, see what's happening around us. Our standing crumbles, and you suggest I steady myself?"
Zhao Wutian lifted a hand just a bit, urging restraint.
"I said steady yourself, Li Jianhong," Zhao Wutian repeated, his manner leisurely, nearly casual.
This only stoked Li Jianhong's ire further.
"How could I possibly steady?" Li Jianhong pressed fiercely.
"Our foes clutch a Saint-grade sword! They vanquished the Half-Qilin, overwhelmed the Demonic Elders, and now the whole empire rushes to them like hounds chasing scraps!"
He fixed Zhao Wutian with a piercing look.
"Don't say you've resigned to doom already."
For an instant, the chamber froze.
Then—
Zhao Wutian let out a laugh.
A soft, entertained snicker filled the enclosed area, jarringly mismatched against the somber mood.
"Hah... hahahaha..."
Li Jianhong stiffened.
The elders traded nervous looks.
Zhao Wutian shook his head, his eyes shining with an odd gleam.
"Resigned to doom? Far from it!"
He inclined forward a touch, placing elbows on the rests.
"Quite the opposite," he whispered, "I see the Bai Clan marching toward their own ruin."
The statement struck like lightning.
"What did you say?" Li Jianhong exclaimed, his features etched with incredulity.
Zhao Wutian's grin broadened.
"That Saint-grade Artifact of theirs," he declared plainly, "spells their end."
Chaos stirred in the room.
Li Jianhong gaped at him like he'd spouted madness.
"Have you lost your senses? That blade makes them invincible at this moment!"
"Does it truly?" Zhao Wutian queried serenely. "Or does it turn them into the prime mark across the Desolate Heaven Empire?"
Li Jianhong paused.
Zhao Wutian pressed on, forestalling any interjections.
"Consider this," he urged, his voice firm and assured, "what sort of folks dwell in this realm?"
Li Jianhong scowled.
"What sort of query is that?"
"Covetous souls," Zhao Wutian supplied. "Aspiring hearts. Those who dread might—and those who crave it."
He adjusted his stance upright.
"Across endless ages, Saint-grade Artifacts remained mere myths here. Not even the Imperial Family claims one."
His gaze roamed the assembly.
"Yet now, one clan unveils possession of a Saint-grade sword."
Li Jianhong's face gradually shifted.
Zhao Wutian drummed his fingers softly on the surface.
"Who would the covetous eye first?"
"Who stirs the Imperial Family's suspicion?" Stillness!
The response hung obvious.
Zhao Wutian's smile dimmed, giving way to icy strategy.
"The Bai Clan has etched a massive bullseye upon themselves," he stated. "Not merely for our sake—but for all eyes."
Li Jianhong's forehead creased profoundly. "You imply... the Imperial Family?"
"Naturally," Zhao Wutian affirmed promptly.
"Do you honestly think the Imperial Family will tolerate a subject clan brandishing a Saint-grade Artifact that endangers their supremacy?"
He shook his head deliberately.
"That blade upends the order more than our two clans ever managed."
"Furthermore, imagine only our Desolate Heaven Empire hunts them?"
"You suggest..."
Li Jianhong's words faded as insight dawned.
The prospect chilled and thrilled alike.
Beyond the Desolate Heaven Empire.
Neighboring realms would hunger for the Bai Clan's Saint-grade Artifact too.
Zhao Wutian flicked his sleeve.
A pile of jade slips glided smoothly over the stone table, halting near Li Jianhong.
"Take these," Zhao Wutian instructed. "Details on the factions eager to join us against the Bai Clan."
Li Jianhong extended his hand to grasp one jade slip.
His eyes widened upon scanning the information.
Li Jianhong's fingers quivered faintly.
His prior despair, rage, and shadows lifted gradually, yielding to clear thrill.
Zhao Wutian observed in silence, his gaze cool and unwavering. "The Bai Clan's supreme treasure," Zhao Wutian intoned evenly, "shall seal their doom!"