Turns Out, I’m In A Villain Clan! Chapter 462 Lin Xuan vs Yuan Jie!

The battle raged on.

From the looks of it, things unfolded just as the spectators had foreseen.

Once Lin Xuan put up that surprising defense, Yuan Jie seized control of the rhythm with his superior might.

Soul Formation qi poured out without end from him, with every blow landing harder than the previous one.

His sword skills lacked finesse or grace, yet they proved devastatingly potent—hardened maneuvers shaped by endless deadly assignments.

Killing intent infused each slash; every advance drove Lin Xuan nearer to the arena's boundary.

Boom!

Yet another overhead chop slammed into the stage, splintering rock and hurling debris everywhere.

Lin Xuan skidded back, his boots grinding over the surface. A rip appeared in his sleeve, and a slender streak of blood traced his arm.

The audience buzzed with excitement.

"Now that's what I expected."

"Nascent Soul just can't match Soul Formation, huh."

"Yuan Jie's not even going all out."

Fei Ling's eyebrows knit tightly. Her hands balled up without her realizing.

Yun Qingmei pressed her lips together, her gaze fixed on the stage.

Kong Zhanhong showed concern too, observing Lin Xuan get cornered step by step.

Bai Zihan alone stayed composed.

Up on the stage, Yuan Jie let out a booming, assured laugh.

"Having trouble?" he mocked. "Is that everything you've got? Did you actually believe you could leap realms and take me down?"

Earlier, he'd felt uneasy over Lin Xuan's surprising agility, but now that he'd unleashed his full force and driven Lin Xuan away, his assurance returned.

He advanced, his presence intensifying further.

His blade burst with thick qi, shimmering softly as he launched a technique at maximum power.

"Crushing Severance!"

The sword came crashing down like an entire peak.

Just the weight of it made lesser disciples among the watchers struggle to breathe.

This time around, Lin Xuan held his ground.

He lifted his sword.

Clang-!

The collision echoed piercingly, much sharper than earlier.

Lin Xuan dropped to one knee from the force, the stage cracking more beneath him, with fissures radiating like a web.

A wave of stunned inhales swept through the crowd.

Yuan Jie's smile stretched broader.

"Yes, that's right," he jeered. "Kneel!"

However-

Lin Xuan's sword quivered.

A faint change took place, so minor that hardly anyone caught it. Lin Xuan's qi flow altered—no more purely guarding, no more holding back.

The aura surrounding him grew keener.

A flicker crossed Yuan Jie's face.

"What?"

Lin Xuan thrust upward.

Bit by bit, with resolve.

The immense weight shattered.

Yuan Jie stumbled back a short distance, his eyes bulging in shock.

"No way-!"

Lin Xuan stood tall, the dust around him calming.

Even as Yuan Jie poured out everything he had, Lin Xuan showed no strain.

Doubt crept into Yuan Jie's mind, anger sparking in his features.

"So you've been concealing your power," he snarled. "Doesn't matter. I'll smash you regardless!" He charged once more, this time holding nothing back—his most potent skills stacked in sequence, sword beams flooding the stage in fierce sweeps.

Lin Xuan reacted.

His movements adjusted faintly, positioning more acute, footfalls exact to the smallest measure. Yuan Jie's dominant assaults started to whiff—not randomly, but through precise foresight.

Slash!

Parry!

Redirect!

Every clash wore Yuan Jie down a touch further, while Lin Xuan stayed composed as he accurately anticipated Yuan Jie's every action.

(Something's off!)

Yuan Jie realized, even after giving his utmost, he still couldn't land a hit on Lin Xuan.

Yuan Jie's breaths came harder.

His strikes, previously smooth, turned hasty.

"Why don't you drop already!?"

Yuan Jie bellowed, channeling extra qi into his sword.

That haste created the vulnerability.

Lin Xuan's gaze intensified.

In that moment, Lin Xuan's sword intent burst forth.

A keen, unseen sharpness swept over the stage, and every cultivator there—wielder of the sword or otherwise—sensed it graze their flesh like icy metal.

The atmosphere shifted.

The surroundings seemed to focus down, as though all but that one sword had been sliced from existence.

For an instant-

Quiet!

Then the stage burst into chaos.

"S-Sword Intent?!"

"Impossible—how?!"

"That can't be! Sword intent only forms in true sword cultivators after centuries of practice!"

Gasps, yells, incredulity—order broke down in a flash. Elders rose halfway from their chairs.

Disciples gaped, some gripping their own blades instinctively, as if answering a silent summons.

Fei Ling went still.

Her breathing hitched.

"Sword... intent?" Yun Qingmei's eyes gleamed, a blend of surprise and admiration overwhelming her.

The supervising elder's calm fractured too, his eyes narrowing as he regarded Lin Xuan like some beast.

High above, Bai Zihan's look grew a bit keener.

Sigh!

(What a freak!)

Bai Zihan mused. He possessed Sword Intent as well, but it came from the System's gift—not from his own efforts.

On the stage, Yuan Jie reeled back as if hit by an invisible blow.

His sword shook wildly in his hand, letting out a tense whine, like it rebelled against him.

"Can't be..." Yuan Jie rasped. "This can't be real!"

His complexion paled completely.

Sword intent couldn't be forced into being.

It wasn't bestowed by any Cultivation stage.

It stemmed from enlightenment—a grasp of the sword profound enough to surpass mere skill.

And the sole other figure in the Heaven Sword Sect known for it—

Was Bai Zihan!

Lin Xuan advanced.

His sword stayed ordinary.

His posture modest.

But infused with sword intent, even the most basic motion carried the threat of instant death.

"All this," Lin Xuan murmured under his breath, "owes to Young Master."

Bai Zihan hadn't instructed him in swordplay or the like. By repeatedly witnessing Bai Zihan wield sword intent—seeing how he sliced foes, how his sword didn't just move but resolved—Lin Xuan started to mirror it.

Initially, it was pure reaction.

Then routine.

Then fixation.

Mere mimicry shouldn't suffice.

No replication could yield such depth.

Yet Lin Xuan was who he was.

A Heaven Chosen!

A cultivator of freakish aptitude and horrifying insight.

Imitation evolved into comprehension.

Observation turned to revelation.

And without Lin Xuan even noticing—

He'd stepped over the line.

Back on the stage, Yuan Jie howled, his terror spilling out at last.

"No! Sword intent or not, you're still inferior to me!"

He threw himself ahead in frenzy, his sword flaring with erratic qi.

Lin Xuan shifted.

A single step.

A lone stroke.

No fancy move.

No show.

Simply a sword, laden with intent.

Slash!

The sword gleam tore through Yuan Jie's offense like tissue, slicing qi, steel, and spirit in one clean path.

Yuan Jie's sword broke apart.

His form hurtled back, slamming hard against the stage's rim before collapsing, crimson spurting from his lips.

Lin Xuan held his position.

Sword down.

Hush enveloped the entire stage.

Then-

Dawning hit the crowd simultaneously. This bout was never in doubt.

From sword intent's emergence—

It was over.

Yuan Jie sprawled near the stage's border, his frame partly sunk into shattered stone.

His sword rested meters off, in lifeless shards, its spirit glow snuffed out.

Blood trickled from his mouth's edge, but bodily hurt paled against the mental stun overwhelming him.

He... lost?

No!

This went beyond defeat.

He'd been utterly dominated.

Yuan Jie's gaze quivered as he fixed on Lin Xuan, poised steadily at the stage's heart.

The very Lin Xuan he'd taunted.

The very Lin Xuan he'd deemed easy to crush.

Measured steps resounded over the stage.

Lin Xuan drew near, sword lowered, no murderous vibe escaping him. His face stayed serene—nearly kind.

He halted a short way off.

"Want to keep going?"

Lin Xuan inquired softly. The question was plain. Yet to Yuan Jie, it weighed more than any blow.

Keep going?

How?

His sword lay in pieces.

And worse—

His spirit lay in ruins.

Yuan Jie gripped his hands tight, nails biting into skin. His mouth shook as he attempted words, but silence came first.

The whole stage waited tensely for Yuan Jie's reply.

At length—

"...I give up!"

The admission rasped out, scarcely above a murmur.

As those words dropped, something in Yuan Jie broke for good.

Lin Xuan dipped his head once.

"Then honor that promise."

He pivoted without a backward look, returning to his starting spot like the issue was settled. For a few beats, stillness reigned.

The supervising elder roused himself.

He moved ahead, his tone commanding as qi boosted his voice.

"The duel ends here!"

His eyes scanned the stage.

"Yuan Jie yields. Lin Xuan wins!"

A roar of noise blasted from the seats.

Cheers, gasps, outcries—some thrilled, some alarmed, some doubtful.

Nascent Soul toppling Soul Formation.

Sword Intent manifesting! Complete dominance.

It seemed like a dream.

And only now did it sink in for all—

This wasn't merely Lin Xuan's triumph.

It served as a statement.

A signal.

And a caution to the whole Heaven Sword Sect.

Regardless of the Sect Leader's identity, he remained that Lin Xuan!

No! An even stronger Lin Xuan!