Turns Out, I’m In A Villain Clan! Chapter 457 Fear Appears in a Sect Leader's Eyes
Previously on Turns Out, I’m In A Villain Clan!...
Elder Han's expression grew grim.
"What exactly are you two up to?"
He shouted, his tone laced with clear annoyance.
In his view, the sight was of two elders on their knees in front of Bai Zihan—their backs bent low, heads bowed down—like they were offering homage.
His eyebrows furrowed tightly.
"Are you out of your senses?" Elder Han growled. "Why kneel before him like that?"
The pair of elders shook uncontrollably.
Their lips parted, yet words failed to emerge.
Pallor gripped their features, with prominent veins throbbing on their foreheads while perspiration streamed down relentlessly.
An unseen force appeared to grip their hearts and squeeze them without mercy.
"Quit fooling around!" Elder Han bellowed, fury rising sharply. "Rise up! Seize him!" Yet—
No reply came.
Those on their knees couldn't raise their heads, much less get to their feet.
A subtle feeling of dread began to stir within Elder Han's mind.
However, he dismissed it right away.
"Hmph! Pathetic wastes!"
His eyes darted to the other elders, who remained rooted in stunned silence, their gazes stretched wide observing the unfolding drama.
"Why are you just gawking?" Elder Han yelled. "Subdue him! Immediately!"
The other elders paused merely a moment.
"Understood, Sect Leader!"
This time, they acted in unison—three elders advancing simultaneously, their presences flaring as they channeled their cultivation.
One elder let out a chilly huff while moving ahead.
"No idea what scheme you pulled," he declared, his words cutting and scornful, "but don't assume it'll affect us too."
Assurance shone in his stare.
They positioned themselves a bit apart, creating a rough triangular enclosure around Bai Zihan, every footfall deliberate, every inhalation steady.
Their presences swelled freely.
Qi surged fiercely along their meridians while they pushed their cultivation to its peak—full power unleashed, no reservations.
They pressed on.
With caution and deliberation.
However, the instant they neared Bai Zihan—
The trio went rigid.
Shock contorted their expressions.
A piercing, oppressive agony burst forth in their torsos.
"-PUFF!"
A gush of blood erupted from an elder's lips as his eyes bulged backward.
"ARGH!"
One grasped at his chest, nails clawing into his garments as though attempting to rip away the torment.
Before a single one got near enough to touch—
Thud!
Thud!
Thud!
The three dropped hard onto their knees, the floor stones splintering under the impact.
Their blades fell from their hands.
Their presences fractured apart like brittle shards.
They were unable to raise their heads.
They were unable to cry out.
Not a hair on Bai Zihan's head had they reached.
The chamber fell into hush.
A heavy, mortal quiet.
Bai Zihan remained poised there, arms folded behind, his attire undisturbed.
He scanned the prostrated elders—each in turn—before gradually shaking his head.
All of them had practiced the Heavenly Mandate Assimilation Art.
Yet he viewed it not as their error or blunder—after all, what cultivator could ignore the allure of such a method?
Precisely for that reason, one ought never accept treats from unknowns.
Who can say what's truly concealed within?
Elder Han's pupils contracted sharply.
Han Shenwu's breathing faltered.
Both fixed their eyes on the spectacle ahead—five elders slumped to the floor,
complexions drained, forms quivering like they teetered on death's edge.
Not merely one.
Not simply two.
Five in total!
And Bai Zihan hadn't so much as moved a muscle.
"What... what have you done...?"
Han Shenwu whispered to himself, incredulity seeping into his tone.
He failed to discern the technique employed.
No trace of spiritual energy.
No array setup.
No relic stirring that he detected.
Simply—
Downfall!
Across the chamber, Kong Zhanghong—held back by Han Shenwu's subordinate—who had been wound tight nearly to bursting, at last released his breath.
His tight fists relaxed.
A subtle, wry grin pulled at the corners of his mouth.
Naturally...
This is truly him.
Bai Zihan!
How could obscure elders such as these possibly handle him?
A wave of ease flooded Kong Zhanghong's spirit.
Elder Han experienced the contrary.
Rage blazed within his core—yet under it, a chillier emotion awakened.
Wariness.
His stare fixed on Bai Zihan, keen and searching.
No...
This lacks raw power.
It has to be some ruse.
A relic!
One that triggers solely upon nearing him.
That must explain it.
Any other way, it defies logic.
Elder Han drew in a deep breath, reining in his wrath.
He refrained from closing in.
Rather, he composed himself, his words shifting to icy command.
"Bai Zihan," he uttered deliberately, "your deceptions stop now."
He smirked.
"Give yourself up!"
"Should you drop to your knees and yield, I won't mistreat you."
The chamber hung in stillness.
Then—
Bai Zihan chuckled.
"Let me live?" he echoed, cocking his head a touch.
A subtle arch formed in his eyes, brimming with derision.
"If fear grips you," Bai Zihan stated evenly, "admit it outright."
"Or even—"
"Why not plead for mercy?"
The air in the chamber chilled noticeably.
Elder Han's features contorted.
"You—!"
His jaws clenched with a grinding noise.
"Fine, play it that way," he hissed, his tone deep and poisonous.
"Your petty ploy is exposed to me."
He lifted his arm.
A crisp ring resounded as a blade sprang from its scabbard, settling solidly in his
hand.
Celestial glow raced down the edge, qi forming as Elder Han infused his
cultivation fully.
"Some close-range tactic," he jeered. "So long as I keep my distance—"
"Let's see you fend this off."
He pulled the blade rearward, qi amassing fiercely.
The atmosphere wailed.
From the far end of the chamber, Bai Zihan regarded him—and gave a head shake.
"I advise against it," Bai Zihan remarked casually.
The caution rang serene.
Nearly indifferent.
Elder Han's mouth twisted upward.
He interpreted it as terror.
As proof of his suspicions.
"Hmph!"
Issuing a frosty snort, Elder Han prepared his blade strike.
Yet—
Ere the strike could fully coalesce—
Elder Han's form went taut.
His eyes bulged.
A keen, choking torment erupted in his torso.
It was like an intangible grip had fastened on his heart.
"T-This—?!"
His blade quivered wildly.
(How?)
He had no clue—Bai Zihan stayed put, several paces distant, showing no action.
The blade qi scattered in the air, breaking into flecks of radiance.
Elder Han lurched, crimson rising in his gullet.
"PUFF!"
He coughed up a spray of blood, his complexion fading to white.
His legs gave way.
And at last—
Terror emerged clearly in Elder Han's gaze.