Turns Out, I’m In A Villain Clan! Chapter 454 Return to the new Heaven Sword Sect

The vessel sliced through the mist-laden clouds, its protective arrays holding firm and without haste. Before long, the grand mountain chain of the Heaven Sword Sect loomed into view on the distant skyline—majestic summits, blade-like spines, recognizable but oddly removed.

Kong Zhanghong positioned himself at the front, drawing in the crisp breeze.

Bai Zihan stayed inside the compartment, seated with his eyes shut.

As the vessel neared the sect's outer boundaries, glowing barriers flickered into activation.

Then—

A sudden surge rippled through the air.

The ship came to a sudden halt.

A handful of airborne silhouettes launched upward from the ground, swords supporting their flight, garments bearing the Heaven Sword Sect's emblem.

Sentries.

One lifted his arm, channeling Qi to boost his shout.

"Stop!"

"You've entered Heaven Sword Sect territory!"

"Every approaching vessel must face a full check before touching down!"

Kong Zhanghong's gaze sharpened.

(A check?)

Previously, Bai Zihan's ride had always landed without issue.

He advanced, his tone cutting.

"A check?" Kong Zhanghong uttered icily. "Do you realize who owns this vessel?"

One sentry eyed the ship's emblems, then sneered.

"Heh. Naturally, we do."

Another sentry snickered softly.

"Isn't this the disabled young master's ride?"

"We're merely obeying commands," he tossed out casually. "Regulations apply to everyone these days."

The statement had just landed—

Bang!

A shadow streaked across the sky.

The speaking sentry hurtled backward, crimson mist erupting as his form crashed against a far-off rock wall.

His blade exploded in fragments during the fall.

A heavy quiet spread instantly.

The other sentries stiffened, their complexions paling rapidly.

Kong Zhanghong remained in place, his grip tight on his fist, murderous aura seeping out unchecked.

"Repeat that," he stated evenly.

The weight of a Nascent Soul Realm expert pressed down like an immense peak.

Golden Core Realm sentries struggled even to draw breath under the force.

"You dare strike at sect sentries?!" one yelled, panic thinly veiled by pretended fury.

"Kong Zhanghong, are you aware of your actions?!"

Kong Zhanghong chuckled.

A brief, mirthless bark.

"Hmph! And so?"

He declared frostily.

Witnessing Kong Zhanghong's bold stance, they realized their warnings held no power.

Some gripped their blades tighter but refrained from unsheathing them.

In the end, they operated at Golden Core Realm, while Kong Zhanghong commanded Nascent Soul Realm strength.

Within the compartment, Bai Zihan at last parted his eyelids.

His face showed utter detachment.

He made no move to halt Kong Zhanghong.

After all—

Why would he?

This was the Heaven Sword Sect.

And no soul here posed a threat to him.

He could tell these sentries aimed to provoke him on purpose.

Maybe Elder Han had commanded it—or maybe another figure.

Bai Zihan stood from his spot and exited the cabin.

The instant he emerged, the atmosphere grew taut.

Regardless of his cultivation level—or its absence—his aura always unsettled those around him.

He glanced downward at the sentries floating ahead of the vessel, his look passing over them with disinterest.

"Descend," Bai Zihan commanded bluntly.

Two simple words.

No rage.

No warning.

Pure directive.

"If there's an issue," he went on, voice steady, "speak it to me straight!"

The sentries tensed up.

None could hold his stare.

Just earlier, they had issued demands with bold assurance. Now, their lips stayed locked as though bound.

Gradually, the barriers beneath cleared a path.

The vessel lowered itself.

No voices broke the hush.

No one blocked their way.

Yet all eyes remained fixed on the scene.

As soon as the vessel settled on the Heaven Sword Sect's outer landing area, onlookers began to cluster.

Some driven by curiosity, others plainly seeking conflict.

Bai Zihan had returned.

***

The sentries had already relayed news of Bai Zihan's approach well before stirring up the clash.

They didn't have to linger in suspense.

Heavy steps resounded over the rocky expanse.

Overbearing.

A cluster of shapes stepped forth from amid the sword-shaped columns.

In the midst strode a figure clad in deep azure robes adorned with jagged cloud motifs. His stance was casual, head tilted upward, gaze filled with blatant contempt.

Han Shenwu!

Trailing him were a few disciples—his followers—each displaying smirks of eager expectation.

Kong Zhanghong's look grew stormy.

Bai Zihan, though, kept his composure.

Han Shenwu paused a short distance off and allowed his eyes to wander boldly across Bai Zihan, pausing on purpose—viciously—at his dantian.

Then he grinned.

"So you've actually shown up," Han Shenwu drawled. "I figured you'd cower in the Bai Clan indefinitely."

Malice sparkled in his stare.

"Just see you now. A Cripple!"

A couple of disciples in his wake let out low laughs.

Han Shenwu crossed his arms.

"You see," he pressed on, voice dripping scorn, "I offered you a shot once."

"A real opening. To pick the winning side. To align with us."

He shook his head with overdone pity.

"Yet you turned it down. And now behold your state."

He bent forward a touch.

"Stripped of all your cultivation."

Han Shenwu's grin broadened.

"What business brings you here anyway?"

Quiet hung in the air.

Then—

Bai Zihan let out a laugh.

A gentle, entertained murmur.

"An opening?" Bai Zihan echoed.

He lifted his chin and at last locked eyes with Han Shenwu.

His gaze stayed serene.

Icy and undaunted.

"From the likes of you?"

The grin on Han Shenwu's face stiffened.

"Are you for real?" Bai Zihan taunted.

Han Shenwu fixed his stare on Bai Zihan a beat too long.

The poise.

The audacity.

The total absence of dread.

It clashed with expectations.

For a fleeting instant, bewilderment flashed in his eyes.

Then he burst into laughter.

"Hah! Still faking it?" Han Shenwu shook his head. "Is this all? Has losing your cultivation shattered your sanity?" He jeered without restraint now.

"A cripple unable to channel Qi any longer, pretending he's still the young master."

His expression toughened.

"Let me ask you, Bai Zihan," Han Shenwu demanded, tone shifting to gravity. "Why have you come here?"

The snickers from his followers faded away.

They also observed intently.

Bai Zihan held off on replying right away. Instead, he scanned his surroundings.

The well-known sword columns. The stone surface carved with sect decrees.

The heavens over the Heaven Sword Sect.

Then he turned back to Han Shenwu. "This is my sect," Bai Zihan stated steadily.

"What justification do I need to give for coming back?"

Han Shenwu halted briefly.

Then his features contorted in shock.

"My sect?"

He echoed, like he'd caught a ridiculous jest too outlandish to grasp.

Han Shenwu's grin chilled.

"Snap out of it," he snapped. "Those days are over."

"My father holds the Sect Leader position now."

He advanced a pace, dominance lacing his words.

"You've been cast out already. You have no place here."

"This sect rejects you now."

The atmosphere grew charged.

A few sentries moved discreetly, poised for Bai Zihan's response.

Bai Zihan absorbed the words in silence. Then—

He flicked his hand casually.

Like sweeping off mere grit.

"Your statements," Bai Zihan remarked dismissively, "hold no weight."

Bai Zihan went on, without rush.

"You're no Sect Leader. Not even an Elder. Does a frail sort like you think he can command me?"

His eyes tightened a fraction.

"If expulsion is truly your goal," Bai Zihan declared evenly, "let your father deliver those words himself."

"Have him speak them to me directly."

The open space plunged into utter stillness.

Han Shenwu's face shadowed over at once.

"You—!"

Han Shenwu balled his hands, fury surging under his surface.

"Very well," Han Shenwu replied icily after a pause.

"If that's your choice."

He pivoted partway and sneered.

"Come along! I'll bring you to my father so he can banish you in person!"