Turns Out, I’m In A Villain Clan! Chapter 571 The Empire Reacts to the Emperor's Death

Across the vast expanse, from the capital's heart to the empire's distant frontiers, news spread like wildfire. Within a mere day, the proclamation had echoed through nearly every corner of the land.

"The Emperor has perished?!"

"Can this truly be so?!"

A wave of astonishment swept through the populace, followed by profound disbelief, and then utter bewilderment. Initially, widespread denial was the norm.

How could such a thing be? Just a few short months ago, the Emperor had appeared robust, with rumors circulating that he had fully recovered from his ailments. Now, the complete opposite was being declared.

However, with the official decree now issued, even the staunchest doubters were compelled to accept the grim reality. The announcement, disseminated to every city, town, and village, left no room for uncertainty.

In the capital, throngs of people congregated in the streets. A cacophony of voices erupted as citizens endlessly discussed the demise of their sovereign, with many expressing genuine sorrow.

Incense wafted from countless homes as prayers ascended. Heads bowed in solemn respect.

To the masses, regardless of his perceived shortcomings, the Emperor was the unifier, the steadfast ruler who had upheld the integrity of the Empire.

He was a beacon of stability.

Yet, not everyone shared this sentiment.

There existed those who remained indifferent. Common folk who had never laid eyes upon the Emperor, nor felt the weight of his presence, nor experienced the direct impact of his decrees. To them, this news changed nothing.

They might offer a brief exclamation of surprise, a simple "oh," before returning to their daily routines.

And then, there were those who rejoiced in secret.

Individuals who had languished under his reign, those who had suffered grievous losses due to his decisions, and those who had harbored a fervent hope for this very day.

For it is an immutable truth that no matter the leader—whether beloved or reviled—two opposing factions will inevitably emerge.

But for the vast majority, their immediate concern rapidly shifted.

"How did he meet his end? Was it natural causes, or was there... foul play?"

"Was any Imperial decree issued regarding succession?"

"Was a Crown Prince officially named?"

An avalanche of questions cascaded, each more pressing than the last.

However, the absence of any such announcement provided a stark, unspoken answer.

"What transpires now? Will the princes engage in conflict?"

"Is a civil war on the horizon?"

"It appears the immediate future holds considerable uncertainty."

A creeping dread began to permeate the populace.

Because every soul understood––

Each ascension to the throne was historically accompanied by bloodshed.

The transfer of power was rarely achieved through peaceful means.

Not within an empire of this magnitude.

And this particular juncture was decidedly worse.

No designated Crown Prince.

No clear successor chosen.

Only a multitude of princes and princesses, each possessing significant power and influence.

Each unwilling to concede.

No one harbored any belief that they would step aside.

No one anticipated they would yield their claims.

This invariably meant that conflict was not just probable, but inevitable.

Within the confines of taverns, bustling marketplaces, and the hallowed halls of various sects, the same anxious discussions reverberated.

"This situation will not conclude without strife."

"Make your preparations."

"Begin stockpiling essential resources."

"A monumental event is unfolding..."

The prevailing atmosphere across the entire Empire underwent a subtle yet undeniable transformation.

And while the common folk engaged in hushed conversations and palpable anxiety...

The true powers within the Empire adopted a markedly different stance.

***

Nestled deep within a formidable mountain range, perpetually shrouded in snow where winter's chill held sway year-round, stood an establishment of serene elegance.

The Frost Lily Pavilion!

Icy winds whispered past ornate jade structures.

Ethereal white petals swirled through the air, mimicking a silent snowfall.

Yet, concealed beneath this facade of tranquil beauty... a resolute course of action was already being forged.

Within the assembly hall's main chamber, the Sect Master stood with her hands clasped behind her back.

Her gaze seemed fixed on some distant point.

Before her, a lone disciple knelt in deference.

"Reporting to the Sect Master... His Majesty, the Emperor of the Desolate Heaven Empire, has breathed his last."

A profound silence ensued.

Then––

"I understand..."

Her voice, remarkably calm and unperturbed, betrayed no outward emotion.

It was as though this very outcome had been long anticipated.

"Disseminate the message to all elders. Commence preparations immediately!"

Although direct action was Prohibited during the official period of mourning, the understanding was clear: meticulous preparations needed to be set in motion.

Because once the mourning period concluded, a full-scale conflict was all but assured.

"We shall lend our support to Yu Qingya. Ascertain her strategies and align our efforts accordingly."

The Fourth Princess.

Their chosen contender for the throne.

"Should she successfully ascend the throne... the Frost Lily Pavilion shall rise in prominence alongside her."

***

Far removed from the frigid mountain peaks...

In a realm where thunderous roars perpetually echoed and jagged lightning fractured the heavens, another formidable power resided.

The Crimson Thunder Palace!

In stark contrast to the subdued tension permeating the Frost Lily Pavilion... this location buzzed with an palpable sense of excitement.

"Hahahahaha!"

A resonant, booming laugh echoed through the opulent grand hall.

"Then, it has finally commenced!"

An elder forcefully struck the table before him, his eyes ablaze with fervent anticipation.

"The Emperor is deceased! The era of profound chaos has dawned!"

Faint crackles of electricity danced around the towering pillars.

The very air seemed to thrum with an almost tangible energy.

"At long last..."

Another elder offered a wide, knowing grin.

"We have endured an extended period of waiting!"

Presiding over the hall's center, the Palace Master sat with an expression of fierce determination.

His gaze burned with unbridled ambition.

"Ensure all arrangements are finalized. Transmit a notification to Yu Longxuan and enhance his personal security measures."

It was widely understood that while no sect would dare engage in overt hostilities during this sensitive interim, covert operations conducted from the shadows were entirely permissible.

The elimination of potential claimants to the throne was by no means an uncommon tactic during such tumultuous periods.

Numerous princes and princesses met their demise during this tumultuous era.

It became imperative, therefore, for the various Sects and clans to fiercely protect the candidates they backed.

"Should he ascend the throne... Crimson Thunder Palace shall reign supreme!"

A palpable wave of exhilaration swept through the grand hall.

"At long last!"

"The era of chaos begins!"

"Let the entire world tremble in fear!"

***

Bai Zihan also received the momentous news swiftly.

"Oh?"

Bai Zihan uttered, his expression betraying no particular emotion.

The information was undoubtedly unexpected; he had not foreseen such a turn of events.

His earlier hypothesis, that someone of Qin Lingxiao's caliber might have replaced the Emperor, was apparently incorrect.

His other theory—that forbidden elixirs had been utilized—must therefore be accurate, he mused.

In any case, the fact that it wasn't Qin Lingxiao brought him a measure of relief; otherwise, the situation would have become significantly more intricate.

Facing him, Kong Zhanhong stood with a grave countenance.

His gaze was unwavering, yet a sense of pressing urgency lay beneath the surface.

"Young Master... the entirety of the Empire is already mobilizing for an impending civil war."

He paused for a beat before continuing his query.

"What course of action shall we undertake?"

Bai Zihan dismissed the matter with a casual shake of his head.

"We offer our allegiance to no faction in this conflict. There is no need for us to expend much thought on it."

Bai Zihan's reasoning was straightforward.

The Bai Clan occupied the preeminent position within the Empire.

No entity would dare to provoke them directly.

None of the contending princes or princesses would risk incurring their displeasure, fearing that the Bai Clan might instead lend their support to their adversaries.

Naturally, once one of them secured the throne, lingering animosity might fester in their hearts.

However, resentment held no sway in the absence of power.

And against the formidable Bai Clan, there was precious little they could do.

For ultimately, strength was the sole arbiter of all outcomes.

Bai Zihan harbored no fear.

Furthermore, he held no particular candidate he wished to see elevated to the throne.

There was, however, one singular exception to this indifference.

Yu Feiyan—or, to be more precise, Qin Lingxiao.

She was the one individual he vehemently opposed ascending to the throne.

Her ascent had been astonishingly swift.

She garnered support from neutral clans. She received backing from various Sects.

Even the common populace seemed to favor her.

Bai Zihan understood that her success must invariably be linked to her cultivation technique.

Anyone else could potentially become Emperor. But not her!