Turns Out, I’m In A Villain Clan! Chapter 450 The Quiet Sharpening of Blades
Previously on Turns Out, I’m In A Villain Clan!...
In a secluded courtyard nestled within the Bai Clan's vast domain, Bai Zihan occupied a position behind an expansive jade table.
Stacks of scrolls rested orderly in front of him.
Reports.
A few carried heavy importance, while many others held lesser weight.
His fingers glided deliberately, unfurling each document in turn, his face serene—nearly indifferent.
To the unaware observer, it might appear he was just handling everyday clan business instead of scanning details of brutal clashes spreading throughout the realm.
"Imperial Guards intervened... the ruling leaned toward the Li-Zhao side again." Bai Zihan whispered quietly.
No trace of fury colored his tone.
Just acknowledgment.
From their ongoing facade of neutrality, it was clear they weren't ready to publicly align with the Li-Zhao Alliance.
Maybe the Imperial Family was still weighing which direction would serve their interests
best.
Regardless, Bai Zihan paid no mind to their deliberations.
From the instant they joined in the plot to assassinate him, they had sealed themselves as his foes.
Bai Zihan let out a measured breath and sealed the scroll away.
Beside the chamber, Kong Zhanghong remained with hands folded at his back, his stance upright yet at ease.
Even as the outside world dismissed Bai Zihan as broken and scorned him, Kong Zhanghong held a deeper understanding.
Truth or rumor aside—it changed nothing, for the man across from him was undeniably Bai Zihan.
Cultivation or none, would he ever challenge or belittle him? Absolutely not.
Right then, he could sense Bai Zihan's firm grip on events, and Kong Zhanghong was convinced it was just a question of time before Bai Zihan dominated the Desolate Heaven Empire.
Maybe even further afield...
Either way, his sole duty was to execute Bai Zihan's orders—without probing motives or guessing at hidden layers.
"Kong Zhanghong," Bai Zihan stated evenly, eyes fixed downward.
"I want your attention on Princess Yu Feiyan."
Kong Zhanghong's gaze shifted for a split second.
"As you command!"
No inquiries raised.
"Keep watching her movements—especially if she meets people who don't seem to belong to the Desolate Heaven Empire," Bai Zihan went on. "Also, continue
investigating the Emperor."
"Certainly. I will do my best!"
Though digging into the Emperor's secrets proved challenging, he had no choice but to redouble his work.
Regarding Princess Yu Feiyan, he figured it wouldn't pose much trouble.
Bai Zihan cast a pleased look toward Kong Zhanghong.
Out of all those in Bai Zihan's circle, Kong Zhanghong alone possessed the skill to delve into Imperial Family concerns.
Gathering intel on Qin Lingxiao carried risks due to her power; still, she would never trace it back to him.
With orders issued, Bai Zihan stood from his chair.
He didn't delay.
Nothing else needed voicing.
The realm buzzed with unrest.
Factions eyed each other warily, all holding breath for the spark to ignite.
That tension played right into his hands. The extended delay meant more time to advance the Heavenly Mandate Assimilation Art.
He headed to his cultivation chamber.
As the door sealed shut, the clamor of the world dissolved.
Quiet enveloped everything.
Bai Zihan paused briefly, then gradually tightened his grip into a fist.
Following his encounter with Qin Lingxiao—after beholding her might—he grasped
a vital truth.
The power that struck fear in others remained insufficient.
Even Mó Zun, whom he vowed to eliminate in mere years, paled beside her.
She formed the greatest uncertainty in his schemes.
A force like hers—regardless of his tactics—lay beyond his present reach to counter.
Time was not on his side either. Evidently, Qin Lingxiao aimed at the Bai Clan, motives shrouded in mystery.
No matter what, he had to ready himself for the clash that loomed.
He settled at the formation's core, with spiritual Qi already swirling nearby.
Spiritual Qi rushed in like a massive surge.
"Time to cultivate!"
Bai Zihan eased into a full cross-legged stance at the center.
He lifted his hand.
A jade vial rested in his grasp.
Grade-8 Healing Pills.
Gifted by Xi Yu.
Bai Zihan's eyes dwelled on it shortly.
Swallowing these would mend his wounds—both concealed and visible—entirely.
His meridians would regain flawless condition, his form restored to peak without lingering harm.
For most, this seemed the straightforward path.
Yet Bai Zihan simply curled his fingers and stored the vial back in his spatial
ring.
"There's no need."
His wounds weren't as dire as rumors claimed. Irksome, sure—but controllable, and crucially, healable over time.
Such pills held greater worth when deployed at the perfect instant.
Maybe to preserve his life someday.
Mind made up, Bai Zihan's features stayed composed as he turned his awareness
inward.
Now arrived another choice.
What technique to employ for cultivation.
The Myriad Breathing Technique—or the Heavenly Mandate Assimilation Art.
By level, the second clearly outranked.
The Heavenly Mandate Assimilation Art ranked as a fearsome powerhouse—a method
that imposed total dominance over practitioners of its partial forms.
That quality elevated it to superior status.
But Bai Zihan knew its depths like no other.
For sheer speed in cultivation, it barely edged out the Myriad Breathing Technique.
Its real power hid in other aspects.
Control.
Subjugation.
And Bai Zihan had already grasped it.
Mastered it.
Yet solely to manipulate and exploit others.
Not for his own growth.
"Myriad Breathing Technique."
Sticking with the method he knew inside out made sense,
particularly without pressing gains from a change.
He drew in a profound breath. With every inhalation, spiritual Qi from the air flowed in, weaving through
his meridians along a route drilled into him over endless sessions.
The Qi streamed effortlessly, free of blocks, as if it naturally fit there.
(Looks like there is no problem with cultivating.)
Only then did Bai Zihan retrieve multiple jade vials, each packed with cultivation
pills.
Pills crafted by his mother.
Pills drawn from the Bai Clan stores, priceless beyond their walls.
He wasted no time.
Vial by vial came open.
Medicinal Qi poured into him, merging with the flowing spiritual energy
and blending perfectly into his meridians.
A soothing heat coursed through—mending, sustaining, bolstering. Despite his injured meridians, outsiders assumed his frame would shatter upon Qi flow.
But beyond a faint unease at first, no grave issues arose.
***
Beyond the walls, the tempest hadn't fully unleashed.
Still, gales whipped through everywhere. Throughout the Desolate Heaven Empire, tensions boiled ceaselessly.
Quarrels still flared in markets, sect entrances still barred those with mismatched tokens, and crimson stained backstreets where talks collapsed.
And still—
A peculiar undercurrent stirred.
Between the escalating rift of the alliances, a massive cultivation surge washed over the realm.
They pushed their practice fiercer than before.
With High Earth-Grade cultivation techniques no longer locked to one faction,
they had stealthily turned into the Desolate Heaven Empire's fresh benchmark.
What had been a prize sparking battles—
Now lay within reach—for those picking a banner.
Or just bracing for the storm.
Independent cultivators sealed themselves in caverns and leased arrays for endless
seasons.
Minor families drained their reserves into elixirs, spirit stones, and training halls.
Sect members who formerly squandered hours on feuds now vied quietly, gauging advances not by boasts, but by realm leaps. One might even claim—
The Desolate Heaven Empire's collective power climbed.
Swiftly. And that reality alone heightened the peril. Inside the Bai Clan, this change rang even louder. As the world fixated on enlistments and scheming plays,
the Bai Clan dove into fierce unification.
Bonds mattered—but brute force ruled supreme. Elders unseen for ages surfaced momentarily, then retreated into profound isolation.
Grand Elders honed their Dao.
Even veterans resigned to their limits now clawed for that final stride.
The Bai Clan wasn't just growing—
It was honing its edge.
As for the Li-Zhao Alliance...
True knowledge of their moves escaped all.
Some murmured they trained with the pilfered art,
striving to absorb and perfect it before defects emerged. Others thought they amassed might, biding time until cultivation couldn't sway the end.
And whispers turned shadowy.
Plots.
Readiness unrelated to training.
Confirmation eluded everyone. Which deepened the eerie hush.
So the Desolate Heaven Empire slipped into an odd balance.
Clashes burst forth each day.
Yet advancements did too.
Resentment grew thicker.
Yet bases solidified.
It was turmoil—
And tranquility.
It looks like everyone was quietly sharpening their blades!