Turns Out, I’m In A Villain Clan! Chapter 463 Kneel Before the Young Master

The clamor of the crowd hadn't died down yet when the supervising elder's piercing shout sliced through the tumult.

"Yuan Jie!"

Coldness and weight filled the elder's stare.

"You placed a bet right before this fight started. Honor it now!"

Propped halfway against the broken rim of the stage, his face grew rigid.

The stake.

Should he lose, kneeling in front of Bai Zihan and offering a public apology for his past insult was required.

Back then, victory had seemed assured. The bet served only to boast his assurance.

But now-

It dangled like a sword above his throat.

Yuan Jie gradually straightened up. Tremors shook his frame—not from wounds, but from shame.

"I... get it. I'll handle it once I spot Bai Zihan."

He gave a rigid nod.

Seeming obedient on the surface.

Deep inside-

(Honor my promise? Alright!)

(Once today ends, I'll dive into secluded training. I'll vanish for months—years if needed. Memories fade fast.)

When he emerged again, this event would fade into distant memory.

Who would bother remembering?

Indeed!

That plan worked perfectly.

A spark of scheming lit up his eyes.

Yet just as he stirred-

A steady voice, tinged with light amusement, echoed over the fighting ground.

"No waiting required. Handle it immediately!"

The audience buzzed.

Bai Zihan advanced.

As soon as he showed himself, the air changed ever so slightly.

"Do it here."

His words flowed softly.

But they allowed no dodging.

Lin Xuan paused briefly.

Then delight shone brightly on his features.

"Young Master!"

He swiftly returned his sword to its sheath and rushed ahead, ignoring the grave mood from before.

"When did you arrive?"

True happiness rang in his tone, like a student proud to display his progress.

Bai Zihan offered a subtle smile.

"I've observed the whole thing. Your power has increased."

The praise from Bai Zihan sparked thrill in Lin Xuan—and a touch of shame, unaware of the watchful eyes.

In that case, he figured he wouldn't have squandered the young master's time and would have wrapped up the bout right away, denying Yuan Jie any opening from the beginning.

Certain disciples felt the acclaim fell short of Lin Xuan's feats.

Others saw it another way.

For Bai Zihan, with accomplishments far beyond, grasping Sword Intent might not appear as impressive.

Bai Zihan's look rested on Lin Xuan briefly—clear endorsement shining through—before moving beyond him.

And fixing on Yuan Jie.

Expectation thickened in the arena.

All grasped the situation.

The bet.

This marked the moment.

Under the weight of numerous stares, Yuan Jie went rigid.

Sweat beaded on his temples.

His dignity roared against it.

(Why show up now?)

He refused utterly. Not with this many witnesses. Doing so would shatter his standing completely.

Moments ticked by.

Then stretched longer.

The quiet turned awkward.

Whispers spread among the onlookers.

"Why the delay?"

"He promised he would."

"Bets must be upheld." "Honor your vow!"

One cry rang out-

"Get on with it!"

Another joined-

"Get on with it!"

Quickly, the call grew, reverberating through the arena in swelling tides.

"Get on with it!"

"Get on with it!"

"Honor your vow!"

The strain showed plainly on Yuan Jie's expression.

His hands balled into fists, knuckles paling.

In front of him waited Bai Zihan—serene, poised, arms casually clasped behind.

Time dragged on endlessly.

The calls persisted.

"Get on with it!"

"Kneel!"

"Honor your vow!"

Yuan Jie's breaths came ragged.

His dignity.

His rank.

His honor.

All hovered near ruin.

And with the full Heaven Sword Sect watching-

Escape proved impossible.

Yuan Jie gulped.

Dryness clawed his throat.

The demands closed in from every side.

His eyes darted to Bai Zihan.

Maybe... maybe a way out lingered.

He mustered a forced grin, dabbing blood from his lip's edge.

"Young Master Bai," Yuan Jie started, tone rough yet aiming for calm, "regarding before... It was just impulsive talk among fellow disciples. We're in the same sect. No reason to push this so far."

A brief halt.

"Honor your vow!"

The strain showed plainly on Yuan Jie's expression.

His hands balled into fists, knuckles paling.

In front of him waited Bai Zihan—serene, poised, arms casually clasped behind.

Time dragged on endlessly.

The calls persisted.

"Get on with it!"

"Kneel!" "Honor your vow!"

Yuan Jie's breaths came ragged.

His dignity.

His rank.

His honor.

All hovered near ruin.

And with the full Heaven Sword Sect watching-

Escape proved impossible.

Yuan Jie gulped.

Dryness clawed his throat.

The demands closed in from every side.

His eyes darted to Bai Zihan. Maybe... maybe a way out lingered.

He mustered a forced grin, dabbing blood from his lip's edge.

"Young Master Bai," Yuan Jie started, tone rough yet aiming for calm, "regarding before... It was just impulsive talk among fellow disciples. We're in the same sect. No reason to push this so far."

A brief halt.

"If Young Master agrees, I can make up for the slight. With gold, elixirs, uncommon resources—"

He pushed on despite himself.

"I just came back from a task. I acquired a Thousand-Year Frost Crystal. I'll present it as my regret."

A soft buzz passed through the gathering.

No trivial item, the Thousand-Year Frost Crystal.

A fifth-grade rarity, usable to craft a sixth-grade elixir via a sixth-grade pill master.

Yet Bai Zihan showed no response.

No hint of desire.

Not even curiosity.

Rather, he angled his head a touch.

"Done speaking?" Just two plain words.

Yuan Jie's spirit dropped.

Calm—nearly detached—filled Bai Zihan's eyes.

"So," Bai Zihan inquired mildly, "when do you start?"

No fury. No mockery.

Merely a straightforward query.

Like chatting about something minor.

Yuan Jie's digits shook.

Bargain with Bai Zihan?

No chance!

Against others, riches might sway. Or supplies.

Or alliances.

But Bai Zihan differed.

The figure whispered to hold more wealth than any cultivator in the Desolate Heaven Empire.

Whose fortune outstripped numerous sects and family heads.

What bribe could match?

Gems?

Ties?

Bai Zihan owned it all.

And beyond.

The cruelest blow—

Bai Zihan appeared determined to force the fulfillment.

Yuan Jie realized it fully. Prolonging only worsened the spectacle.

The more he held back, the more wretched he'd seem.

The uproar hadn't ceased.

"Kneel!" "Get on with it!"

"Honor your vow!"

His jaw locked.

Teeth gritted harshly.

His dignity howled.

Yet beneath countless stares—

He acted.

Deliberately.

Rigidly.

Yuan Jie advanced a step.

Next—

His legs folded.

Cloth scraping stone boomed in the hush.

He dropped to his knees facing Bai Zihan.

Head bowed low, hands pressed to the stage with such force that new blood trickled from his grips.

"...My error."

The phrase tore from him like shattered shards.

"I uttered bold nonsense and slighted Young Master Bai."

A shake coursed his frame.

"I beg forgiveness!"

Hush blanketed the whole arena.

Even breezes held still.

For a Soul Formation expert—

A key disciple—

One who leveraged his tie to Han Shewu's underling—the offspring of the fresh Sect Leader—to bully others—

To bow openly thus—

It etched into minds forever!