Turns Out, I’m In A Villain Clan! Chapter 428 Paths to Downfall

Silence hung heavy in the chamber.

A space where the slightest breath seemed to echo unnaturally.

Representatives from the Li Clan and Zhao Clan had assembled in a tightly sealed hall, with multiple layers of formations cutting off all contact from the world beyond.

Dimly glowing lamps threw elongated shadows over the stone walls etched with family crests—emblems that formerly symbolized absolute dominance.

Now, those symbols appeared... faded.

The conflict against the Demonic Forces had effectively concluded.

The Beast Tide had been utterly defeated.

The Demonic Cultivators had retreated.

The Desolate Heaven Empire was busy drafting announcements of triumph.

However, within this enclosed space, not even a hint of festivity lingered.

No easing of tension.

No swell of honor.

No feeling of conquest.

Just an oppressive cloud of dread and disquiet.

For the Li and Zhao Clans, the toll of this war far outweighed any gains.

Their casualties were immense.

The Li Clan had suffered the death of a Grand Elder at the Earth Immortal Realm—a devastating blow indeed.

Their very roots had been rattled profoundly.

And when stacked against the Bai Clan's minimal damages despite their maximal efforts, the disparity in losses hit even harder.

"The Bai Clan..."

That name alone now bore immense gravity.

In the past, it had been uttered on equal footing.

As a competitor.

These days, it was mentioned with hesitation.

And wariness.

Prior to the war, Bai Zihan had stood out as a freakish outlier—a being that shattered reason and dashed all hopes of containment.

Each effort to curb him had merely fueled his rise and heightened his threat.

But that situation had seemed containable.

At least, that's what they had assumed.

Now, though?

It extended beyond Bai Zihan.

Bai Ren.

Bai Xueqing.

The Bai Clan's Grand Elders.

And various other members of the Bai Clan had evidently experienced a profound shift.

The Bai Clan's power surpassed everything they had ever imagined or prepared for.

Their advancement operated on a scale utterly beyond prior estimates.

And furthermore—

The Saint-grade sword.

The atmosphere in the room thickened further at the mere thought.

Though it was a stroke of luck that the Bai Clan had been compelled to expose their hidden ace amid the Beast Tide, it starkly highlighted their overwhelming superiority over the rest.

In the short period since the Beast Tide's conclusion, the sway of the two clans had already waned sharply, whereas the Bai Clan's prominence had surged manifold. Every clan—even former allies—now sought partnerships with the Bai Clan.

BANG!

Li Jianhong's palm crashed against the stone table.

The impact reverberated harshly through the isolated chamber.

His face was shadowed with rage, subtle veins pulsing at his temples.

The shame, the strain, the powerlessness—it all surged forth in that forceful blow.

"The Bai Clan is too powerful! Zhao Wutian," Li Jianhong uttered, his tone deep and tense, laced with scarcely contained fury, "what should we do?"

His eyes fixed intently on the Zhao Clan Patriarch.

"If this goes on," he pressed on somberly, "the Bai Clan will devour our two clans

entirely."

The statement left a sour aftertaste.

Li Jianhong had always carried himself with arrogance.

As leader of the Li Clan, he had towered over multitudes, earning deference through raw might and command.

He had been convinced that the united front of the Li and Zhao Clans rendered them impervious to any lone family's challenge.

But at present—

Harsh facts bore down upon him without mercy.

For all his arrogance, Li Jianhong recognized the reality.

The Bai Clan had grown beyond his grasp.

Not even with the Zhao Clan's support at his side.

Their Saint-grade sword by itself could dismantle every strategy passed down through eras.

Layer on top the Bai Clan's horrifying method that felled the Half-Qilin.

Scarcely anyone—possibly not even their mightiest forebear—could endure such a strike.

"If the Bai Clan chooses to strike," Li Jianhong murmured deliberately, his words weighted, "we won't stand a chance in battle."

A hush settled after his declaration.

A few elders bowed their heads low.

Some gripped their fists tightly under their garments.

Not a soul challenged him, for they all understood Li Jianhong spoke undeniable fact.

Even Li Jianhong, who never displayed frailty, acknowledged it.

The equilibrium had shattered.

What confronted them now wasn't mere competition—it was a fight for existence.

"Calm down, Li Jianhong!"

Zhao Wutian stated evenly.

In stark contrast to Li Jianhong's wrath and hopelessness, Zhao Wutian stayed seated,

poised.

Indeed, a subtle grin began to form at the edges of his mouth.

That grin swiftly captured everyone's focus.

Li Jianhong's gaze sharpened.

"Calm down?" he barked. "Zhao Wutian, take a look around. Our standing is crumbling, and you're advising me to stay calm?"

Zhao Wutian lifted a hand just a bit, gesturing for him to hold.

"I said calm down, Li Jianhong," Zhao Wutian repeated, his manner leisurely,

nearly casual.

That only ignited Li Jianhong's temper more.

"How can I possibly calm down?" Li Jianhong challenged.

"Our foe wields a Saint-grade sword! They vanquished the Half-Qilin, demolished

the Demonic Elders, and now the whole empire is swarming to them like hounds chasing a feast!"

He fixed Zhao Wutian with a piercing stare.

"Don't say you've already resigned to your doom."

For an instant, the chamber fell utterly quiet.

Then—

Zhao Wutian let out a laugh.

A soft, entertained snicker resounded through the sealed hall, jarringly mismatched against the somber mood.

"Hah... hahahaha..."

Li Jianhong went rigid.

The elders traded anxious looks.

Zhao Wutian shook his head, his eyes shining with an odd gleam.

"Accepted my fate? No!"

He inclined forward a touch, placing his elbows on the rests.

"Quite the opposite," he murmured gently, "I think the Bai Clan has already embarked on the road to their own ruin."

The statement struck like lightning.

"What?" Li Jianhong exclaimed, his features twisted in incredulity.

Zhao Wutian's grin broadened.

"Their Saint-grade Artifact," he declared plainly, "will prove to be their undoing."

Chaos broke out in the room.

Li Jianhong gaped at him like he was spouting madness.

"Have you lost your senses? That sword is exactly what makes them invincible at the moment!"

"Does it?" Zhao Wutian queried serenely. "Or does it make them the prime target across the entire Desolate Heaven Empire?"

Li Jianhong wavered.

Zhao Wutian pressed on before interruptions could arise.

"Consider this," he said, his voice firm and assured, "what sort of individuals fill

this empire?"

Li Jianhong scowled.

"What sort of question is that?"

"Covetous folks," Zhao Wutian supplied for himself. "Aspiring souls. Those who dread might—and those who crave it."

He adjusted his stance upright a fraction.

"Across endless ages, Saint-grade Artifacts have remained mere myths in these realms. Not even the Imperial Family claims ownership of one."

His gaze roamed the assembly.

"Yet now, out of nowhere, one clan unveils possession of a Saint-grade sword."

Li Jianhong's face gradually shifted.

Zhao Wutian drummed his finger softly on the table.

"Who do you suppose the covetous will eye first?"

"Who do you think the Imperial Family will view with suspicion?" Silence!

The response was obvious.

Zhao Wutian's grin dissolved, giving way to icy scheming.

"The Bai Clan has marked themselves as the ultimate prize," he stated. "Not merely for us

—but for all."

Li Jianhong's forehead creased profoundly. "You're implying... the Imperial Family?"

"Naturally," Zhao Wutian answered promptly.

"Do you honestly think the Imperial Family will tolerate a subject clan brandishing a Saint-grade Artifact that endangers their supremacy?"

He shook his head deliberately.

"That sword upends the order more drastically than our two clans ever managed."

"Furthermore, do you believe only those within the Desolate Heaven Empire pursue them?"

"You mean..."

Li Jianhong's words faded as enlightenment dawned.

The notion was chilling—and alluring.

Not solely the Desolate Heaven Empire.

Neighboring empires too would hunger for the Bai Clan's Saint-grade Artifact.

Zhao Wutian flicked his sleeve.

A pile of jade slips glided smoothly over the stone table, halting in front of Li

Jianhong.

"Here," Zhao Wutian said. "The roster of clans eager to join us in handling the Bai Clan."

Li Jianhong extended his hand and grasped a jade slip.

His eyes widened as he scanned its details.

Li Jianhong's fingers quivered faintly.

His prior shadows of gloom, hopelessness, and rage gradually dissolved, supplanted by

clear thrill.

Zhao Wutian observed him silently, gaze cool and unwavering. "The Bai Clan's supreme treasure," Zhao Wutian declared steadily, "will likewise seal their doom!"