Turns Out, I’m In A Villain Clan! Chapter 462 Lin Xuan vs Yuan Jie!

The battle raged on.

From the looks of it, things unfolded just as the spectators had foreseen.

Following Lin Xuan's surprising pushback, Yuan Jie seized control of the rhythm through his superior might.

Endless waves of his Soul Formation qi poured forth, with every blow landing harder than the previous one.

Though his sword skills lacked finesse or grace, they proved devastatingly potent—hardened maneuvers shaped in numerous perilous

encounters between life and death.

Killing intent infused each slash; with every advance, Lin Xuan found himself driven nearer to the arena's boundary.

Boom!

Yet another overhead slash hammered the stage, splintering rock and hurling debris in all directions.

Lin Xuan skidded back, his boots grinding over the surface. A rip appeared in his sleeve, and a slender streak of blood traced his arm.

The audience buzzed with excitement.

"Now that's what I expected."

"Nascent Soul simply can't match Soul Formation in the end."

"Yuan Jie isn't even going all out yet."

Fei Ling's eyebrows knit tightly. Her hands gripped without thought.

Yun Qingmei pressed her lips together, her gaze fixed on the stage.

Kong Zhanhong felt concern too, observing Lin Xuan's retreat.

Bai Zihan alone showed no reaction.

Within the ring, Yuan Jie let out a booming, assured laugh.

"What's the matter?" he mocked. "Is that your best? Did you actually believe you could leap realms and defeat me?"

Initially concerned by Lin Xuan's surprising quickness, Yuan Jie regained his assurance after deploying his maximum force and forcing Lin Xuan to yield ground.

He advanced, his presence intensifying further.

Dense qi burst from his sword, the edge shimmering softly as he launched a technique at full force.

"Crushing Severance!"

Like a towering peak, the blade came crashing down.

Even the sheer force of it caused lesser disciples among the watchers to struggle for breath.

On this occasion, Lin Xuan held his position instead of withdrawing.

His sword lifted upward.

Clang-!

The collision echoed piercingly, much more intensely than earlier.

Down to a single knee Lin Xuan dropped, the stage below him splintering more, with web-like fissures radiating out.

A unified intake of breath came from the crowd.

Yuan Jie's smile grew broader.

"Yes, that's right," he jeered. "Kneel!"

However, in the next moment—

Lin Xuan's sword quivered.

An almost imperceptible change took place, so minor that the majority overlooked it. The flow of Lin Xuan's qi

altered—no more purely guarding, no more holding back.

The aura surrounding him grew keener.

A flicker of surprise crossed Yuan Jie's face.

"What?"

Upward Lin Xuan thrust.

Gradually and firmly.

The immense, peak-like force shattered.

Half a pace Yuan Jie retreated, his eyes bulging in shock.

"That's impossible-!"

To his feet Lin Xuan stood, the dust calming around his form.

Even with Yuan Jie exerting himself fully, Lin Xuan stayed composed.

Doubt crept into Yuan Jie's assurance, annoyance crossing his features.

"So you've been concealing your power," he snarled. "Very well. I'll smash you regardless!" Once more he charged, now releasing all his arsenal—his most potent skills stacked in sequence, sword beams flooding the ring with savage

trajectories.

Lin Xuan reacted.

Slightly his footwork adjusted, positioning more acute, movements exact down to the smallest measure. Yuan Jie's dominant assaults started to fall short—not randomly, but deliberately.

Slash!

Parry!

Redirect!

With every clash, Yuan Jie tired a bit further, whereas Lin Xuan held firm as he calmly foresaw each of Yuan Jie's actions.

(Something's off!)

So Yuan Jie pondered, even after committing everything, once more he failed to land a hit on Lin

Xuan.

Yuan Jie's breaths came more labored.

His strikes, previously smooth, turned hasty.

"Why won't you drop!?"

Yuan Jie bellowed, channeling yet more qi into his weapon.

That haste created the vulnerability.

Lin Xuan's gaze intensified.

Right then, sword intent from Lin Xuan burst forth.

An keen, unseen sharpness swept the ring, and all cultivators there—

whether sword wielders or otherwise—sensed it graze their flesh like icy metal.

The atmosphere shifted.

The surroundings appeared to constrict, as though all but that one sword had

been sliced from existence.

For an instant—

Silence!

Next, the ring burst into chaos.

"S-Sword Intent?!"

"No way—how could that be?!"

"That's impossible! Only dedicated sword cultivators with centuries of

practice can develop sword intent!"

Gasps, cries, incredulity—chaos erupted right away. Elders rose halfway from their chairs.

Disciples gaped in astonishment, a few instinctively gripping their blades as if answering a silent summons.

Fei Ling went rigid.

Her breathing hitched.

"Sword... intent?" Yun Qingmei's eyes gleamed, astonishment and admiration blending wildly.

The supervising elder's calm broke too, his eyes contracting as he

gazed at Lin Xuan like he was a beast.

High above, Bai Zihan's look grew a touch keener.

Sigh!

(What a freak!)

Bai Zihan mused. Sword Intent was his too, yet it came from the System's boon—

not from his own efforts.

Aboard the stage, Yuan Jie stumbled rearward, hit by an intangible blow.

Wildly his sword shook in his hold, releasing a tense whine, like it

defied its wielder.

"Impossible..." Yuan Jie rasped. "This is impossible!"

Color fled his face.

Sword intent couldn't be seized by brute strength.

The Cultivation realm didn't bestow it.

Comprehension defined it—a profound grasp of the sword beyond mere

methods.

And the sole other figure in the Heaven Sword Sect famed for having it—

Was Bai Zihan!

Forward Lin Xuan strode.

His sword stayed ordinary.

His posture modest.

But infused with sword intent, the barest action seemed a deadly blow poised to strike.

"All of this," Lin Xuan whispered under his breath, "owes to the Young Master."

Bai Zihan hadn't instructed him in swordplay or similar. By repeatedly witnessing Bai Zihan wield sword intent—seeing how he sliced foes, how his sword didn't just arc but judged—Lin

Xuan started to mirror him.

Initially, it stemmed from gut feeling.

Next, routine.

Afterward, fixation.

Merely mimicking shouldn't suffice.

No extent of replication could yield such depth.

Yet Lin Xuan remained uniquely himself.

A Heaven Chosen!

A cultivator boasting freakish aptitude and horrifying insight.

Imitation evolved into grasp.

Observation turned to revelation.

And eventually, without Lin Xuan noticing—

He'd passed the barrier.

Returning to the ring, Yuan Jie yelled, his terror at last overflowing.

"No! Sword intent or not, you're inferior to me!"

Desperately he dashed ahead, his sword flaming with erratic qi.

Lin Xuan advanced.

A single step.

A lone stroke.

No skill.

No show.

Merely a sword, bearing intent.

Slash!

The sword gleam tore Yuan Jie's offense apart effortlessly, slicing qi,

steel, and spirit in one clean path.

Yuan Jie's sword broke apart.

His form hurled back, slamming hard against the ring's rim

then collapsing to the floor, crimson spurting from his lips.

In place Lin Xuan remained.

Sword down.

Hush engulfed the entire ring.

Afterward—

Awareness hit the crowd simultaneously. The bout had never been even.

Since sword intent emerged—

The outcome was set.

At the ring's border Yuan Jie sprawled, his frame partly sunk into

shattered rock.

Several paces distant lay his sword, broken into lifeless shards, its spiritual

glow utterly snuffed.

From his mouth's edge blood trickled, yet bodily agony paled against the dismay overwhelming his thoughts.

He... defeated?

No!

Defeat barely described it.

He'd been utterly dominated.

Yuan Jie's eyes quaked as he fixed on Lin Xuan poised serenely mid-stage.

The very Lin Xuan he'd taunted.

The very Lin Xuan he'd deemed easy to crush.

Measured steps resounded through the ring.

Lin Xuan drew near, sword relaxed, no murderous aura escaping him. His

face held serenity—nearly kind.

He halted paces distant.

"Do you wish to go on?"

Softly Lin Xuan inquired. Plain words, yet to Yuan Jie, they weighed more than any blade's impact.

Go on?

How?

His sword lay ruined.

And crucially—

His assurance lay in irreparable pieces.

Yuan Jie balled his hands, nails biting flesh. His mouth quivered in attempt to voice, but at first nothing emerged.

The whole ring waited tensely for Yuan Jie's reply.

At length—

"...I give up!"

Hoarse the words came, scarcely above a murmur.

As they landed, Yuan Jie's inner resolve crumbled utterly.

Lin Xuan inclined his head briefly.

"Then I trust you'll honor that."

Away he turned sans further look, striding to his starting spot like the issue was resolved. For a few pulses, nobody stirred.

Then the supervising elder recovered.

Forward he came, his tone commanding as spiritual qi boosted his

proclamation.

"The duel is concluded!"

Over the ring his eyes scanned.

"Yuan Jie has conceded. Lin Xuan is the victor!"

A blast of noise surged from the seats.

Cheers, inhales, outbursts—some thrilled, some alarmed, some skeptical.

Nascent Soul toppling Soul Formation.

Sword Intent manifesting! Complete dominance.

Unbelievable it seemed.

And only then did the truth dawn on all—

This went beyond Lin Xuan's win.

A proclamation it was.

A nudge.

And a caution to the whole Heaven Sword Sect.

Regardless of the Sect Leader's identity, he stayed the same Lin Xuan!

No! A mightier Lin Xuan!