Turns Out, I’m In A Villain Clan!

Chapter 153: A Graveyard’s Triumph

The air reeked of smoke and blood when Bai Zihan stepped into the ruined square.

Sunlight cut through the haze in golden shafts, but it did nothing to warm the broken bodies or soothe the screams echoing in the distance.

Slash! Slash!

Dozens of Demonic Beasts had fallen beneath his sword—fangs shattered, throats slit, bones crushed.

But none of them mattered.

They were just obstacles.

His true prey... was wreaking havoc and tearing down the walls, letting even more Demonic Beasts flood into the Inner City.

(Can I kill him?)

Bai Zihan knew killing a Grade-3 Demonic Beast might be a bit of a stretch—even after stepping into the Qi Refining Stage.

It was like fighting someone two realms above him. And even at the same cultivation level, Demonic Beasts were always stronger.

Still, while killing it might be difficult, he figured he could at least survive the fight.

No one else here stood a chance. It had to be him.

Otherwise, he might fail the Trial just because of a grade-3 Demonic Beast.

That would be too much especially knowing that the Inheritance for Immortal Emperor was on the line.

Slash! Slash!

”These bugs...”

Bai Zihan muttered, annoyed at how many of these Demonic beasts were slowing him down.

Then—

BOOOOOM!

”What was that?!”

The explosion shook the ground, causing a brief quake. The soldiers around him—and even Bai Zihan—were startled.

Most had no idea what caused it.

But Bai Zihan had his suspicions. It definitely involved a large amount of Black Powder.

And honestly? He was kind of impressed that someone had come up with such a reckless but clever plan to take down a Grade-3 Demonic Beast.

He did share such kind of information but just knowing and applying was completely two different things, not to mention all the conditions that needed to be fulfilled for that to work.

However, he wasn’t sure whether it would be powerful enough to take down a Grade-3 Demonic Beasts.

He can just hope that even if it didn’t kill it, it has at least injured the damn thing.

He rushed toward the source of the blast—toward where the Grade-3 Demonic Beasts should’ve been.

And there it was.

The Grade-3 Demonic Beast. Still alive.

Burned, battered, but breathing.

But someone else caught his eye even more.

Hong Tao!

Battered. Torn apart. Barely breathing.

Too late to save him!

”...”

”Let’s kill!”

Bai Zihan jumped forward, confronting the beast head-on.

The black-scaled monster, bloodied and wrecked, turned with a low growl bubbling from its ruined throat.

Its crimson eyes locked onto Bai Zihan.

There it is.

The beast was nearly done for—half its body cooked from the explosion, one arm hanging limp, gait uneven.

But it still stood.

At its feet, broken and still, lay Hong Tao.

Bai Zihan’s gaze lingered on him for a moment.

”You overgrown lizard must be lucky as hell to survive that blast,” he muttered. ”But your luck just ran out.”

ROOOOAR!

The beast roared, cracked horn gleaming in the firelight as it lunged.

Whoosh!

Bai Zihan moved too.

He didn’t dodge—he stepped in.

The beast swiped with its powerful claw.

Bai Zihan ducked low, twisted beneath the swing, and slashed—a diagonal cut across the beast’s side, tearing open blackened scales and scorched muscle.

The beast screamed. Blood burst out in a steaming arc.

It whipped around, jaws snapping—

But he vanished.

Reappeared behind it—sword in reverse grip—and stabbed up, right under its jaw.

The blade didn’t go in far.

Too thick. Too hard.

But it staggered the beast.

Bai Zihan kicked off its chest and flipped back.

He landed, panting lightly.

ROOOOOOAAR!

The beast roared again, pain replaced by madness.

It charged.

So did Bai Zihan.

They collided.

Claws raked across his side, tearing cloth and flesh.

His sword carved across its face—slicing open one of its glowing eyes.

It thrashed, blind on one side—but it wouldn’t fall.

It refused.

The fight turned into one on one between Bai Zihan and the Grade-3 Demonic Beasts.

Every second stretched longer.

Every heartbeat could’ve been the last.

Soldiers watched, stunned. Guns silent.

No one dared move.

They couldn’t.

This was beyond them.

This was a battle between monsters.

No—one true monster, and one man mad enough to fight him anyway.

Bai Zihan’s robes were shredded. His sword chipped. His Qi frayed at the edges.

But he kept moving.

Kept striking.

Kept pushing.

”Come on!”

He shouted, voice arrogant, eyes locked on the beast’s one good eye.

”Come on, you oversized piece of shit.”

The beast roared one last time, lunging for a final bite.

Bai Zihan didn’t move away.

He stepped in again.

His sword flashed—one clean thrust—

Right through the roof of the beast’s mouth.

CRACK!

The blade punched out through the top of its skull.

The beast twitched.

Froze.

Its claw stopped inches from Bai Zihan’s neck.

Then—

It collapsed.

The square shook as the beast hit the ground, a mountain of flesh and scale crashing to the earth.

Finally dead.

Bai Zihan stood there, chest heaving, sword still buried in its skull.

”Hah... Hah... With my original strength, even millions of you wouldn’t be able to touch a single strand of my hair.”

Bai Zihan bragged, which was somewhat true.

But it was also because the Grade-3 Demonic Beast turned out to be much more powerful to kill than initially anticipated.

As a Nascent Soul Realm cultivator, it strained his pride—despite knowing this wasn’t truly his real self.

Silence stretched.

Then the screams returned.

The cheers.

”YEAH! We did it!”

”We won!”

”The Grade-3 Demonic Beast is dead!”

...

Soldiers raised their weapons. Refugees shouted his name.

It seemed the other Demonic Beasts had already been dealt with once the Grade-3 beast was contained.

Now, only the Grade-3 Demonic Beast had remained—which Bai Zihan took care of.

But Bai Zihan didn’t hear any of it.

He was staring at Hong Tao.

He walked over—slowly.

Looked at the stupid grin still frozen on his face.

Bai Zihan didn’t say anything for a long time.

Then, quietly—

”...Idiot.”

He glanced away, blinking once.

No tears.

No words.

Because he knew it didn’t matter.

None of it was real.

Not even Hong Tao.

Whether they died or not—shouldn’t matter to him at all.

This is what happens when you overestimate yourself. This is why you don’t take chances until you’re sure.

That’s how he operated—and how he’d managed to stay alive. Or so he believed.

But deep down, he knew: without Hong Tao’s sacrifice, he might not have been able to take down that Grade-3 Demonic Beast.

***

The cheering didn’t last.

Maybe for a minute—two at most.

But joy was a fragile thing in a graveyard.

The haze of blood and ash still hung heavy in the air, curling through the broken square like the breath of some lingering beast.

Cries of triumph slowly faded, drowned out by sobs, by the gut-wrenching wails of those who found someone they loved crushed under rubble, burned beyond recognition, or torn apart by claws.

Victory had a price.

And now everyone could see it.

A woman cradled a young boy—his eyes wide open, lips parted like he was about to say something.

He never would. Her screams pierced deeper than any roar.

A soldier dropped to his knees next to his friend, one hand pressed against the gaping hole in the man’s chest, as if holding it shut would undo what had been done.

They had won.

But at what cost?

Bai Zihan stood motionless, watching it all unfold.

Even now, he didn’t feel much. Perhaps he consider all of this like some kind of movie or VR game, not reality.

Though he doubt whether anything would change even if such things happens in reality.

Behind him, soldiers began gathering the wounded. Fires were being put out. Orders barked.

The cleanup had started.

But no one looked like they had won.

Then came the footsteps.

Soft. Regal. Deliberate.

Princess Feilian!

She stood atop a cracked section of wall, lifted her chin, and raised her voice.

”I know... many of you are thinking the same thing,” she said.

”You’re wondering if this was worth it. If keeping the city standing is worth the lives we lost. If the people we couldn’t save are more than the ones we did.”

Silence!

Eyes turned toward her.

Feilian’s voice shook—just slightly—but she didn’t stop.

”I won’t lie to you. This hurts. It should hurt. We’ve all lost something... someone. A brother. A daughter. A friend.”

Her fingers tightened into fists at her sides.

”But listen to me—they didn’t die for nothing! This city still stands because of them. We still stand. They didn’t give their lives for walls or stone—they gave them for the people behind those walls. For the hope that something might still survive when this war is over.”

She paused, sweeping her gaze over the broken, bloodied crowd.

”Take your time to grieve. Let your hearts break. That’s what makes us human. But never forget—we drove them back. We stood against the horde and didn’t fall. This is our victory. A hard one. An ugly one. But real.”

Some nodded.

Others wept harder.

A few just stared at the ground, numb like they have lost everything.

Still they had to move forward, for themselves, and for those who had given everything to keep them alive.