Turns Out, I’m In A Villain Clan! Chapter 430: The Cripple Walks into the Imperial Capital

After a tough struggle, Bai Zihan finally persuaded his father and mother to agree.

Considering his crippled state and the enemies keeping a sharp eye nearby, it proved difficult for them to let him step into a place that might turn out to be a den full of wolves.

But through his unyielding arguments—and aware that the Imperial Family already eyed the Bai Clan with suspicion—his parents eventually relented.

That said, they imposed numerous limits on him, making sure he was always accompanied.

The sole exception came when he had to go alone to claim his reward from the Emperor.

The ceremony day finally dawned!

As the sun rose, the Bai Clan lands buzzed with disciplined hush.

One by one, flying ships lifted off from the inner docks of the clan, their bodies marked with glowing Bai symbols that flickered as the formations powered up.

Bai Tianheng took charge of the fleet himself.

The Five Grand Elders joined as well, since their efforts played a key role in crushing the Demonic Forces from the start.

On the forward deck of the main flying ship, Bai Zihan appeared in simple white garments, his face calm and detached.

Not a trace of Qi escaped his form.

To onlookers, he seemed just as the gossip described.

A cripple.

However, no one from the Bai Clan on board dared to cast pitying or scornful glances his way.

At his side was Bai Xueqing, called along for her own role in the events.

Truth be told, the younger generation's efforts—excluding Bai Zihan's—barely shifted the tide of the greater battle.

Still, honors awaited those young ones who stood out with their biggest impacts.

It served as a nod of approval—maybe even a small comfort—honoring their youthful attempts.

Bai Jian made the list too.

During the Beast Tide, he battled fiercely, slaying Demonic Cultivators without pause.

His efforts secured him a spot in the group—and direct praise from the Imperial Family.

Naturally, at the Nascent Soul Realm, his deeds paled next to those of Bai Zihan or even Bai Xueqing.

Yet for someone his age, it remained quite remarkable.

Usually, hitting the Nascent Soul Realm in one's twenties counted as typical.

Bai Xueqing—and Bai Zihan, who climbed to far loftier levels—were the real outliers.

Those two weren't even vying against their peers.

They challenged cultivators a full generation—or maybe two—ahead.

Bai Zihan spotted Bai Jian right away.

Truthfully, he had anticipated this turn.

The setup offered Bai Jian an ideal chance.

He seemed vulnerable.

Broken.

Should Bai Jian seek vengeance...

Should he aim to grab back the Heir role...

Now was the time.

But—

Nothing occurred.

Bai Jian lingered a few paces back, his eyes flicking toward Bai Zihan now and then.

Once, their gazes locked.

Bai Jian tensed for a split second—then averted his look, facing elsewhere like it was no big deal.

No sneers.

No icy words.

No subtle jabs.

Bai Zihan creased his brow just a bit.

(...Odd.)

During the trip, he checked on Bai Jian several more times.

At moments, Bai Jian would peek over.

Yet whenever their stares crossed, Bai Jian would glance away once more.

Still, no speech.

No moves.

No open animosity.

Back in earlier days, this would have been prime for Bai Jian to taunt him—or strike with bold challenges.

(Have I scarred him too deeply?)

Bai Zihan pondered.

(Whatever, it doesn't matter to me.)

He brushed it off without delay.

Should Bai Jian choose to strike, it would come in time.

If he held back, nothing shifted.

Even so, his mind wandered.

Maybe Bai Jian—and Uncle Bai Feng—were just biding their time.

Holding out to verify if his broken condition was truly irreversible.

They might worry that this weakness was just a passing phase.

If Bai Jian really plotted to claim the Heir spot, this moment screamed opportunity.

However, Bai Zihan caught no whispers of Bai Feng—or any others—stirring things up.

In old times, the instant he got labeled crippled, the heir title would have vanished right then.

But weeks had slipped by, and he kept the role.

The flying ships sliced through the skies, aiming directly for the core of the Desolate Heaven Empire.

Before long, the Imperial Capital loomed ahead.

Gone was the heavy, stifling air that gripped the Empire amid the Beast Tide; now the city pulsed with energy and joy.

Flags waved from high walls and palace peaks, stitched with royal emblems and triumph marks.

Crowds jammed the roads below—mixing cultivators and everyday folk—their expressions glowing with thrill and ease.

Laughter rang out.

Tunes filled the air.

Wine poured without restraint.

To ordinary citizens, the Demonic Forces posed a dire end.

The Beast Tide had almost devoured whole lands, leaving families in dread, unsure of survival.

That dread had vanished now.

Triumph arrived.

And it demanded a grand feast.

As the Bai Clan’s flying ships pierced the clouds over the capital in tight array, the crowd's response hit fast.

Gasps spread along the avenues.

Cheers exploded next.

"It’s the Bai Clan!"

"The Bai Clan is here!"

Arms waved wildly from the ground. Some folks dropped into bows on reflex, fists clasped skyward.

Others yelled their gratitude, heedless if voices carried.

After all, the facts rang clear to everyone.

Of every group that clashed in the Beast Tide, the Bai Clan delivered the heaviest blow.

Absent their stand, the Northern Defense Line would have crumbled.

Absent their push, the Demonic Forces wouldn't have retreated.

In the eyes of the empire's people, the Bai Clan went beyond a mighty house.

They were heroes.

The group pressed on, soaring past central zones before dropping toward the imperial palace area.

The Imperial Family’s domain sprawled hugely, outscaling even the grandest clan estates.

Protective formations glowed in stacked veils of radiance over the huge landing fields, intricate runes spinning lazily while scanning each qi ripple.

Lines of royal guards held flawless ranks, weapons planted firm, armor shining under the dawn rays.

When the Bai Clan’s flying ships neared, the barriers didn't open at once.

Rather, light rays shot down from the setups, scanning the ships' frames, the carved Bai marks, and the passengers inside.

A royal official advanced, eyes keen and dutiful.

After a short pause, the formations quieted.

The official's face changed.

He cupped his hands and bent low in respect.

"Bai Clan convoy confirmed," he declared clearly. "Please forgive the formality!"

With his signal, the guards snapped upright and saluted together.

The stacked barriers over the field wavered, then eased apart like a veil pulled back, clearing a straight route into the palace depths.

The Bai Clan’s flying ships started to land.

Motors purred gently as the crafts settled onto the broad platforms in sequence, actions exact and controlled.

The instant the bases touched down, shield formations sparked short below—then settled, anchoring the vessels solid.

The gangways stayed shut at first.

Instead, the Bai Clan acted ahead.

A handful of Bai Clan folks emerged on the upper levels, faces stern and watchful.

Some jumped to the stone below, feet hitting with heavy thumps. Others stayed on board, their awareness fanning out in linked fields.

Spirit senses roamed the docking zones, the palace barriers around, the close halls, and the royal setups too.

Trust came to none.

Not even the Imperial Family.

Only after a few breaths—and with no odd signs found—did a quiet cue ripple through the Bai Clan group.

The gangways dropped.

Bai Tianheng emerged leading.

His aura felt firm and commanding, eyes steady yet piercing as they scanned the area.

Bai Zihan trailed right after.

Near enough for Bai Tianheng to cover the gap in one stride.

To strangers, it could seem overdone.

To Bai Tianheng, it fell short.

Bai Zihan strode with poise, stance loose, face steady. He showed no shift from earlier—basic robes, no sign of cultivation, no qi.

Utterly crippled!

But the Bai Clan's instinctive placements whispered another tale.

Two Elders shadowed him just back. A few guards shifted to block every angle.

Any threat path to Bai Zihan got cut off before thought.

The Five Grand Elders followed them.

Their pace dragged deliberate and even, yet the weight they carried demanded notice.

They didn't come solo.

A few other flying ships had touched down already.

Bai Zihan’s eyes roamed the platforms.

Li Clan.

Zhao Clan.

Their symbols stood out clear.

Their crafts sat docked—spaced deliberately apart from the Bai Clan.

It seems nearly every major force had beaten them here.

Bai Zihan grinned lightly as he moved forward.

A broken youth entering the empire's core.

The outer festivities boomed bright and wild.

But inside the imperial lands—Calm was the last thing brewing.