Turns Out, I’m In A Villain Clan! Chapter 416 The Letter from Home

The onslaught of the Beast Tide had finally reached its conclusion.

However, the ripples of conflict had not yet settled into true peace.

Even though a heavy silence now blanketed the scarred earth of the battlefield, the soldiers and cultivators could not yet begin their journey home.

Sentinels remained stationed across the horizon, and scouting parties were continuously rotated to maintain a tireless vigil.

The threat of a renewed assault loomed as long as Demonic Beasts remained hidden in the wilderness and Demonic Cultivators continued to draw breath.

Despite this lingering tension, an undeniable wave of relief began to wash over the Desolate Heaven Empire.

Information traveled with supernatural speed.

The news was clear: the Demonic Cultivators were routed, and the Half-Qilin—the monstrous commander of the horde—had been slain.

Urban centers burst into festive celebration, while the halls of various Sects resonated with a mixture of weary laughter and triumph.

Commoners fell to their knees in prayerful thanks, and those on the path of Cultivation finally exhaled, no longer haunted by the shadow of the Beast Tide.

Victory was theirs.

In the wake of this salvation, new narratives began to take root.

Names were whispered.

Chronicles were born.

Legendary status was being forged in real-time.

Stories rippled through the populace—some polished to a shine, others kept modest, and many intentionally inflated by factions seeking influence.

In every teahouse and Sect pavilion, people spoke of the young prodigies who had carved their names into history during the crisis.

"Did you hear the news? Chu Ziyan took down a Grade-8 Demonic Beast single-handedly."

"I did. Her momentum has been unstoppable ever since the Dragon and Phoenix Competition."

"And what about Bai Xueqing? They say she managed to paralyze a Void Refinement Realm master in the heat of battle."

"For a girl of her years, that is truly frightening."

"She wasn't the only one... this era seems to be overflowing with brilliant young geniuses."

Reports surfaced of youths slaughtering Demonic Beasts that far exceeded their own Cultivation levels.

A formidable new generation was stepping into the light.

Yet, above all the chatter—

"The claims regarding Bai Zihan are simply insane, though!"

"Word is he clashed with Demonic Elders of the Great Ascension Realm. Three of them at once!"

"No, I heard it was five!"

"Five is what I heard as well. And he emerged victorious."

"Does that not place him above Bai Tianheng already?"

"Hah! Even his father might have to concede that point. It appears the Bai Clan has sired a true monster."

In the past, many had dismissed Bai Zihan as a pretender because he sat out the Dragon and Phoenix Competition.

While the Heaven Sword Sect was aware of his prowess after he humbled Lu Xiangyuan, the broader world remained largely ignorant of his strength.

Now, the realization finally dawned on the masses—Bai Zihan hadn't avoided the tournament out of fear; he simply operated on a level far beyond it.

Had he entered, the entire event might have been reduced to a display of his absolute authority.

His reputation surged like a wildfire through the empire in the days following the Beast Tide.

***

Twenty-four hours had passed since the fall of the Half-Qilin.

With no further sightings of Demonic Beasts, it appeared that stability was finally returning.

Bai Zihan was recovering from the exhaustion of combat, his breathing rhythmic as he drifted on the edge of sleep.

Suddenly—

"Young Master Bai!"

The shout crashed through his rest like a clap of thunder.

Bai Zihan’s eyes flew open instantly.

A messenger stood gasping for air at the tent’s flap, his face a mask of lingering dread and frantic urgency.

"Young Master... Patriarch Bai demands your immediate presence."

Bai Zihan’s brow furrowed in annoyance.

"Right now?"

The man gave a sharp, frantic nod.

"Yes, immediately!"

Rising from his bed, Bai Zihan threw on his outer robes and stepped into the cool air.

"What could that old man possibly want this time?"

He muttered under his breath.

As he followed the guide through the bustling camp, Bai Zihan’s thoughts began to churn.

(Have the Demonic Beasts reformed their ranks? Has Mó Zun shown his face again?)

He weighed several grim possibilities, but the relatively calm demeanor of the surrounding troops suggested that a new invasion wasn't the cause.

Entering the command tent, his eyes fell upon several familiar countenances.

Bai Tianheng stood at the center, his face set in a grim mask.

Beside him was Bai Ren.

And standing nearby was Bai Xueqing.

Bai Zihan’s eyes narrowed as he sensed the heavy atmosphere.

(What is the meaning of this?)

"Father, why have you called for me?"

Bai Zihan asked, cutting through the silence the moment he arrived.

Bai Tianheng observed him for a long beat before offering a terse nod.

"Take a seat."

An attendant hurried to place a chair by the central table.

Without protest, Bai Zihan sat down, his eyes scanning Bai Ren and Bai Xueqing.

Both remained quiet, their expressions unreadable.

Exhaling a heavy breath, Bai Tianheng produced a letter sealed with unique scales.

"This report reached me just after the Beast Tide was suppressed," he explained. "It originated from the Bai Clan estate."

Bai Zihan’s gaze sharpened.

"Trouble at the manor?"

Bai Tianheng nodded solemnly.

"The Bai Clan was the target of an incursion."

Bai Zihan’s face remained a stoic mask.

"Demonic Cultivators," Bai Tianheng added. "They made no effort to mask their affiliations."

He tapped the parchment against the wooden tabletop.

"The assault was contained. The clan successfully repelled them, and we suffered few losses, even though the enemy deployed Elders from the Immortal Realm."

To breach the inner sanctum of the Bai Clan, the presence of Immortal Realm combatants was a necessity.

Even with five of their top experts committed to the Northern Defense Line, the Bai Clan’s remaining internal strength was more than enough to protect their home.

Bai Zihan remained silent, absorbing every word.

"There are three potential motives for this strike," Bai Tianheng theorized.

"First—our clan's resources."

"We displayed a great deal of our hidden strength in this conflict," Bai Tianheng noted evenly. "Specifically, a Saint-Grade artifact and your own secret techniques."

Bai Tianheng was aware that Bai Zihan had shared a sword technique with the Grand Elders, but lacking full knowledge of its origins, he simply categorized it as a high-level art.

He also considered the method his son used to briefly boost his Cultivation. "The enemy likely suspected that the manuals for such inheritances were kept in our central vault."

"They were unsuccessful, however," Bai Ren interjected.

Bai Tianheng nodded in agreement. "Which brings us to the second possibility."

"A feint," he continued. "An attempt to force us to retreat from the front lines and weaken our hold here... but the Beast Tide was crushed much faster than they anticipated."

Bai Zihan’s frown deepened.

"And the third reason?"

Bai Tianheng suddenly went quiet.

A suffocating stillness filled the tent.

Bai Zihan tilted his head slightly, a sense of foreboding beginning to stir.

"We have not yet confirmed their primary goal with absolute certainty," Bai Tianheng said carefully.

He then fixed his gaze directly onto his son's eyes.

"They failed in their first two objectives, but during the confusion of the raid—your personal servant..."

"She was taken."

Bai Zihan did not move.

For a fleeting moment, the room was paralyzed by silence.

Then—

"Pardon?"

His voice was hollow and flat, sounding as if he were struggling to process the words.

Bai Tianheng’s brow twitched with concern.

"Luo Qing," he repeated. "Your personal maid. She was abducted during the skirmish."

Bai Zihan locked eyes with his father, his gaze steady and devoid of immediate emotion.

"... Are you certain?"

"According to the reports," Bai Tianheng answered. "She was seized amidst the chaos."

Bai Zihan leaned back into his chair.

A maid. A simple, non-cultivator servant.

That was the detail that defied logic.

Bai Ren looked toward the Patriarch as soon as the news was delivered, and Bai Tianheng shared his confusion.

They had analyzed the possibilities—that she was meant as leverage against the clan, or perhaps specifically against Bai Zihan.

But the mystery remained.

How did the enemy even know of her existence? And why would they believe her life held any tactical value?

Bai Tianheng found the logic flawed.

Had the target been Bai Xueqing or his own wife, the motive would be clear. Such hostages would carry immense political and emotional weight.

But a common maid? A girl with no Cultivation, no noble lineage, and no apparent strategic worth.

It made no sense.

Demonic Cultivators, who value only strength, should have known that trying to blackmail the Bai Clan with a servant was an exercise in futility.

Even if they took a hundred servants, the clan would not waver—though they would certainly try to prevent such a loss out of pride.

Bai Zihan was the only person who might truly care.

Yet, looking at his son, Bai Tianheng saw a void.

No fury. No hysteria. No outward sign of distress.

If the enemy's plan was to unbalance Bai Zihan, it appeared to have been a total failure.

(At the very least, he isn't losing his mind over it.)

Just as that thought crossed his mind—

BOOM!

The entire structure of the tent groaned and shook.

A terrifying wave of invisible pressure erupted as Bai Zihan’s Qi surged without restraint. A cold, absolute killing intent flooded the area like the sky itself was falling.

The atmosphere became dense and suffocating. Outside, disciples stumbled, their legs giving way and the color draining from their terrified faces.

Even Bai Tianheng felt the weight of it.

His heart skipped a beat, his robes snapping violently as if buffeted by a mountain gale.

In that heartbeat, the Patriarch didn't see his child—he saw something far more predatory and dangerous.

Bai Zihan rose from his chair with predatory slowness.

His eyes were burning with a dark light.

"How dare they?"

The words started as a low whisper before exploding into a roar.

"HOW DARE THEY?!"

The killing intent intensified, becoming sharper and more lethal.

Bai Zihan had always been the image of calculated composure.

He had remained calm when the Li and Zhao clans conspired against him.

He had kept his cool when Shen Liang plotted within the Heaven Sword Sect.

He hadn't even blinked when Gou You attempted to ambush him.

In those moments, he had only felt contempt.

But this—

For the first time since his journey began, Bai Zihan was consumed by genuine, unadulterated rage.

"They are begging for death!"

The earth beneath his boots began to spiderweb with cracks. Though he was only in the Spirit Severing Realm, the sheer pressure he exerted was monumental.

"Zihan'er!"

Bai Tianheng lunged forward, forced to manifest his own powerful aura to shield the room from the crushing weight of his son's power.

"Control yourself!" he commanded. "Calm your heart, Zihan'er!"

Bai Xueqing had turned deathly pale, her heart hammering against her ribs.

She never imagined that the mere aura of Bai Zihan could overwhelm her so completely.

Only Bai Ren stood his ground, seemingly unaffected by the display.

Bai Zihan stood like a pillar of wrath, his aura howling like a wild beast—

Then, gradually—

He raised his gaze, looking out toward the vast expanse of the Great Wilderness.

Bai Tianheng immediately recognized the intent in his son's eyes.

Since the Demonic Cultivators were responsible, the path to finding Luo Qing was obvious.

He would simply have to demand the answer from Mó Zún—the sovereign of the Demonic Cultivators himself.