Turns Out, I’m In A Villain Clan!

Chapter 270 Chu Ziyan Vs Nie Fengzhuo!

The crowd was still roaring from Shui Lianʼerʼs concession when silence fell abruptly, like a flame smothered.

All eyes shifted back to Bai Xueqing.

She did not smile.

She did not bask in glory.

Her sword lowered slowly, but the tension in her shoulders betrayed her mood. Her lips curled-not in triumph, but in dissatisfaction. (Tch!)

Bai Xueqingʼs pale-blue eyes flickered with a cold, unyielding light as she looked at Shui Lianʼer, who stood calm and composed even in defeat. It galled her.

That illusion-had forced her to face something she did not wish to. Even if only for a fleeting instant, Shui Lianʼer had made her falter.

And yet, before she could repay it in full-before she could exact the price- Shui Lianʼer had simply surrendered.

Despite being victorious, it didnʼt feel like one.

Bai Xueqing scoffed and without sparing Shui Lianʼer another glance, she sheathed her sword in a sharp motion.

Her figure turned, cold and aloof, the faintest trace of disdain in her posture.

The crowdʼs cheers resumed in waves, but Bai Xueqing ignored them all, striding toward the edge of the stage with steady, unhurried steps.

The echoes of her battle still lingered in the air-her cold figure imprinted in the minds of every spectator.

Yet before the excitement could fade, the refereeʼs voice rang out again, sharp and commanding: ”The second semifinal match-Chu Ziyan of the Heaven Sword Sect Vs Nie Fengzhuo of the Nie Clan!”

The arena shook with another eruption of cheers.

If Bai Xueqing versus Shui Lianʼer had been a clash of prodigies and mystique, this next match carried a different weight entirely.

Dark Horse against Dark Horse!

Two names that, before the Dragon and Phoenix Competition, few would have place in the same sentence as Bai Xueqing or Lei Zhensheng.

Yet round after round, they had silenced doubts with overwhelming strength, carving their way into the semifinals without hesitation.

Now, they stood across from one another on the grand stage.

The crowd roared with anticipation.

Who would rise?

Though indirectly connected by tangled threads of fate, the two regarded each other with detached calm.

To Chu Ziyan, Nie Fengzhuo was nothing more than her best friendʼs ex-fiancé -someone she neither hated nor loved.

To Nie Fengzhuo, Chu Ziyan was merely Bai Zihanʼs fiancée. Nothing more.

He might have relished humiliating her had she been one of those disciples who followed Bai Xueqing and mocked him. But Chu Ziyan wasnʼt one of them.

No bitterness. No grudge. No weight of history between them.

Only one reality remained:

To win, one must cut down the other.

The refereeʼs hand fell. ”Begin!”

The instant the word fell, neither side hesitated.

Steel rang out, sharp and resounding-

Clang!

Two figures blurred into motion, closing the distance with terrifying speed. Their swords met in a dazzling explosion of sparks, the shockwave rippling across the stage.

There was no testing of the waters. No slow build-up.

From the very first strike, both Chu Ziyan and Nie Fengzhuo unleashed killing intent as sharp as their blades.

Chu Ziyanʼs sword light cut upward like a crescent moon, refined and precise, every motion honed to perfection by the Heaven Sword Sectʼs supreme sword arts.

Her sword aura was cold, disciplined, and ruthless-like an executioner who had no need for wasted movements.

Nie Fengzhuo answered with raw, overwhelming power.

His black sword swung down like a collapsing mountain, his strikes carrying explosive force that shattered the ground beneath their feet.

Each swing was a storm, seeking to crush rather than slice, but his control was flawless an unyielding balance between brute strength and measured intent.

Bang!

The second clash shook the arena, their auras colliding head-on.

Chu Ziyanʼs refined sword intent bent like water but refused to break, while Nie Fengzhuoʼs domineering momentum pressed forward like a tidal wave. ”Crimson Petal Tempest!” ”Nine Desolations Tyrant Sword!”

The stage quaked as both cultivators roared their powerful techniques.

A crimson gale erupted from Chu Ziyanʼs blade, blossoms of scarlet light scattering like countless petals caught in a storm.

Each fragment spun with deadly sharpness, weaving together into a spiraling tempest of sword qi that slashed from every angle at once.

It was beautiful, yet merciless.

Opposing it, Nie Fengzhuoʼs aura surged like a collapsing sky.

His black-golden sword cleaved downward, and in that instant, the phantom of Nine Desolations unfurled behind him.

Mountains cracked, seas churned, lightning raged, and storms howled-all illusions of intent, yet heavy enough to make the spectatorsʼ hearts tremble.

His blade roared with tyrannical might, as if every swing could erase the heavens themselves.

Boom!

The two techniques collided. Crimson petals shredded against a wall of violent qi, scattering into sparks of light, while the ground split open in jagged lines beneath their feet.

The storm of force lashed outward, tearing apart protective formations around the stage and forcing weaker cultivators in the stands to stagger back.

Chu Ziyanʼs eyes narrowed. Her petals flowed seamlessly, adjusting, weaving, redirecting the sword art of one who wasted no motion.

But Nie Fengzhuoʼs answer was unrelenting.

Each sweep of his blade tore through her storm like a beast rampaging through a forest, forcing her backward step by step. His sword did not dance; it conquered.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Steel rang again and again, sparks raining as their sword lights carved arcs of red and gold across the arena.

Chu Ziyanʼs blade curved, finding small openings, slipping past the flood of power to graze his guard-but Nie Fengzhuo simply took the hits, his body hard as iron, his swings wider and heavier with each exchange.

It was a duel of styles.

One refined.

One domineering.

And neither willing to yield.

The spectators held their breath.

This wasnʼt a probing exchange-it was war. ”Neither is holding back...” ”This is what the Dragon and Phoenix Competition should look like!”

From the start, the audience got what they wanted: a fierce clash between two powerful competitors.

No tricks. No mystery. Just pure swordsmanship and strength.

Both had shown why they deserved to stand in the finals-perhaps even to seize the title of champion.

Yet what the audience thought was the climax... was only the warm-up for the two prodigy. (He is also in the Mid Soul Formation Realm!)

Chu Ziyanʼs eyes narrowed as the realization struck her.

It had been only speculation until now, but that exchange confirmed it.

She herself stood proudly in the Mid Soul Formation Realm, yet what unsettled her was not his cultivation-but his growth.

Two years ago, Nie Fengzhuo had been nothing more than a Qi Gathering

Stage. And yet, here he stood, matching her blow for blow.

If not for a certain someone, Chu Ziyan might have felt truly shaken.

But she remembered.

Compared to Bai Zihan-the monster who left her with a suffocating sense of powerlessness while facing Bai Xinyue, a Spirit Severing Realm-Nie Fengzhuo was merely... normal like her.

Formidable, yes. Exceptional, yes. But not overwhelming as others make it.

Her confidence surged, honed by her own growth over the past year.

Her voice rang out, cold and resolute: ”Heaven Severing Tide!”

The same attack that had shaken earth and sky, the very technique that brought Lei Zhenshengʼs downfall, erupted forth once more. !!!

Nie Fengzhuoʼs eyes hardened. That move carried no less weight than the

Heavenly Technique his own master had taught him.

He could not underestimate it. ”Absolute Severance!”

His black sword howled as his strongest technique flared to life, a sharp, merciless force that promised to tear apart all it touched.

Two Heavenly Techniques-rare beyond measure, unattainable for most in their lifetime-were now clashing head-on before tens of thousands of stunned witnesses.

The arena seemed to freeze in that instant.

Ocean met abyss. Tide met severance.

The detonation that followed shook the heavens themselves. Shockwaves ripped outward, battering the barrier with such force that even the Formation Masters paled.

They scrambled into action, pouring their qi to reinforce the trembling light screens before they shattered.

The ground shrieked in protest, splintering as cracks tore jagged paths across the stage.

Light flared, blinding, swallowing everything in its brilliance.

And then-

Silence!

As the radiance faded, the two figures reemerged.

Both stood, blades still in hand. Then-step. Step.

The backlash forced them apart.

Chu Ziyan slid back five meters, her boots grinding against the stone, leaving deep furrows.

Nie Fengzhuo staggered three steps before regaining his balance, his stance firm once more.

The difference was small. Two meters.

But at this level, such a margin was decisive.

The crowd exploded into chaos. ”Theyʼre equal!” ”No-look closer! She was forced back farther!” ”Nie Fengzhuoʼs sword suppressed hers!”

Excited gasps and frenzied shouts thundered across the arena, reverberating like rolling waves.

Yet on the stage itself, the two combatants ignored it all.

Chu Ziyanʼs crimson aura surged once more, her eyes sharp and unwavering.

Nie Fengzhuoʼs grip tightened around his hilt, his Qi growing ever powerful.

One exchange had already drawn the line between them.

But neither had reached their limit.

The true battle was only beginning.