The Reincarnated Villain Can Break the Fourth Wall!

"Oh? And tell me, Xu Tianran… am I the only one who wears a mask?"

Her words slithered through the air, wrapping around his mind like an unseen coil.

Xu Tianran shivered.

That smile—gentle yet wrapped with daggers—sent a chill up his spine. She could see through him, past his masks, into the secrets he knew… and worse, the ones he didn't.

Their auras unfurled like storm clouds before a downpour. The peak of the Great Ascension Realm—two monsters standing beneath the same sky.

The pressure alone made Liu Chenfu's face drain of color.

And then—

They moved.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Golden radiance clashed against celestial might, explosions tearing through the night. Their figures blurred, vanishing and reappearing in flashes of devastation. Each strike sent shockwaves rippling through the forest, reducing trees to splinters, the heavens above trembling from their fury.

Liu Chenfu remained frozen, barely able to breathe.

Then—

"Two minutes."

The words didn't come from her lips, but they rang through his skull, clear as the toll of a death knell.

"That's all I can buy before reinforcements come. Once they arrive, not even the heavens will save you."

His throat ran dry.

The sect was hunting him.

And this woman—whether demon or savior—wanted to use him as a chess piece.

Was it a trap? Perhaps.

Did it matter? Not anymore.

If he stayed, he was dead.

If he fought, he was dead.

But if he took her hand, if he gambled everything on this mad whisper of a chance—

He might just live.

His fingers clenched.

His body flickered.

And like a desperate beast scenting survival, he shot toward Beast Peak, vanishing into the night as a streak of rainbow light.

_______

Liu Chenfu's figure streaked across the night, landing atop Beast Peak in a blur of desperation. His heart pounded, lungs burning.

The "Abyssal Mangroves"—where only the sect's most unruly, unbroken spirit beasts were caged. Not tamed, not trained—just locked away, seething in the dark.

"BREAK!"

His palm struck the sealing formation. CRACK! Sigils shattered, iron bars twisted like dying serpents. The ground quaked.

And then—

A tide of howls, roars, and piercing shrieks split the night.

Shadow-winged vultures burst into the sky, blotting out the moon. A hundred-eyed centipede slithered free, each limb hungry for flesh. Bone-crushing apes pounded their chests, their roars sending shockwaves through the mountain.

Liu Chenfu didn't wait.

He kicked off the ground, leaping atop a berserk storm-wolf as it lunged forward. With a flick of his sleeve, he sent a surge of spiritual pressure outward, directing the beast herd.

"Run wild."

The beasts answered with fury.

_____

Martial Arena!

In the distance, Su Xiaobai clashed with Yue Xi, his focus slipping.

"Where are your eyes?"

Yue Xi's voice was filled with irritation as the Celestial Inscriber, the grand formation pen Su Xiaobai had been controlling, veered off course.

BOOM!

It smashed into the sect's barrier with an ear-splitting crash, divine inscriptions scattering like startled birds.

A few disciples exchanged glances.

"Did he just… crash his own formation?" one murmured.

"Is Brother Su fighting her or the damn wall?" another snickered.

"Heh, guess controlling a celestial formation isn't as easy as acting cool."

Yue Xi let out a breath, rubbing her temple. She had been trying to kill this man for five minutes, and somehow, he was still alive—mostly by accident.

But Su Xiaobai wasn't even looking at her anymore. His brow furrowed.

"Something's wrong… Where is everyone?"

At first, Yue Xi ignored him. Then she noticed it too.

The Peak Lords' seats.

Empty.

One by one, the elders were vanishing.

The outer disciples were still busy gossiping, but the core disciples watching from higher up had gone stiff. Someone swallowed audibly.

"…Wait. Why do the Peak Lords' seats look… wrong?"

"The elders. They're… disappearing."

One by one. Not leaving. Disappearing.

RUMBLE…

The earth quivered beneath their feet, deep and slow, as if something ancient had stirred in its sleep.

A disciple, who had been munching on a steamed bun, stopped mid-bite. "The hell was that?"

Another shift. This time, stronger.

RUMBLE…

A few outer disciples laughed nervously, but no one responded.

And then the sky darkened—not from clouds, but from something vast, stretching above the sect, swallowing the moonlight.

No one was laughing anymore.

Whooooosh!

Then the sky lit up as the heavens blazed.

Brilliant streaks of sword light, talisman fire, and divine techniques tore across the sky, their violent brilliance illuminating the night like a festival of destruction.

For a moment, Su Xiaobai was struck by the absurdity of it all.

"Fireworks?"

The thought barely formed before reality set in.

These weren't celebrations.

This was a siege.

Jing… Jing…

A sound, soft and ethereal, rippled through the chaos like a ghost's whisper.

Through the storm of battle, it appeared—a crimson chariot suspended in midair, adorned with golden filigree and lined with delicate bells that sang with each shift of the wind.

It did not float by itself.

Four veiled women, clad in flowing, moon-white robes, held it aloft, their sleeves extending like ethereal ribbons. They neither walked nor flew—they simply existed, weightless as spirits, their movements hypnotic in their precision.

Seated within, like a goddess descending from the heavens, was Yue Xiuying.

Su Xiaobai had seen her before.

But never like this.

She moved as if reality itself yielded to her presence, descending gracefully into the chariot's embrace. From every direction, thousands of attacks rained toward her like a heavenly judgment.

They never landed.

In a blink, the four women became sixteen, each one shifting as if stepping through reflections of themselves. Their ribbons wove through, catching and dissolving every lethal strike before it could touch the chariot.

Beyond them, the battlefield seethed with chaos.

The elders of the Xiantian Sect—once pillars of unshakable authority—now stood in fractured lines. Some lay bloodied and broken, while others glared at the floating chariot with vengeful fury.

At the forefront stood Zhao Tianxuan and Xu Tianran, their killing intent like a raging sea.

"Yue Xiuying!" Zhao Tianxuan's voice thundered through the night. "You have nowhere left to run! Return what you stole, or fate will be cruel to you and your conspirators!"

His face was like stone, but Su Xiaobai caught the tightness in his expression, the way his fingers flexed at his sides.

He hadn't expected this.

He hadn't expected so many elders to turn traitor in a single night.

And he definitely hadn't expected that Yue Xiuying, the woman they all believed to be in seclusion for a thousand year, had been corrupting the sect from within the entire time.

Somewhere, in the depths of their treasury, she had taken something. Something precious. Something forbidden.

Something they couldn't allow to escape.

She was outnumbered.

Sixteen warriors at her side—but an army against her.

And yet—

"Hehe~"

A laugh. Soft, teasing.

A shiver ran through the air.

Yue Xiuying, seated calmly in her chariot, tilted her head, amusement dancing in her eyes.

"Dealt with everyone?"

Zhao Tianxuan's heart dropped.

For the first time that night—he felt something he hadn't felt in decades.

Dread.

Then—

RUMBLE…

It wasn't the earth shaking.

It was the world itself.

RUMBLE…

The first to notice it were the disciples in the back—faces pale, staring toward the eastern sky where the moon should have been rising.

Instead, a black wave surged forward.

No… not a wave.

A swarm.

Blood Bats. Thousands.

Their crimson eyes flickered in the dark, a storm of hunger and violence descending upon the sect.

And they weren't alone.

Abyssal Tigers—their pelts woven from living shadows—emerged from the mountain depths, their growls rolling through the sky like distant thunder.

Golden-Tailed Lions, each one large enough to flatten a pavilion, prowled behind them, golden eyes burning with aggression.

Four-Beast Cubs, still young but powerful enough to pulverize stone, sprinted among the herd.

A python army slithered forward, the sheer mass of their bodies grinding stone into dust.

The Xiantian Sect's disciples froze.

Zhao Tianxuan whipped around, his eyes locking onto Peak Lord Feng.

His voice was razor-sharp.

"What. Is. This?"

Peak Lord Feng looked like he'd swallowed broken glass. "S-Sect Master… these beasts… They weren't trained yet. I had them sealed away, but…"

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"Someone tampered with the formations!"

Zhao Tianxuan's veins bulged.

"Tampered?"

Then, across the battlefield, a figure emerged—riding atop a storm-wind wolf the size of a temple.

A frail old man, his robes tattered, his body thin, but his eyes glowed with mad triumph.

Liu Chenfu.

Zhao Tianxuan's rage detonated.

"LIU CHENFU, YOU FUCKING CORPSE! I'LL KILL YOU MYSELF!"

His gravitational field crushed hundreds of beasts instantly—but it didn't matter.

For every one that fell, a thousand more surged forward.

Xu Tianran sighed, his fingers tightening around his blade.

"I'll stop her. You handle the horde."

Zhao Tianxuan didn't hesitate. "Don't kill her. She still has the artifact."

An elder hesitated. Then another.

Finally, someone spoke.

"Sect Master… what did she steal?"

Zhao Tianxuan's expression didn't change.

He didn't answer.

Instead, he turned and stepped into the storm of beasts, each footstep sending shockwaves through the ground, flattening everything in his path.

Xu Tianran moved for the chariot—only for the sixteen veiled warriors to intercept him, their ribbons spiraling outward, weaving through the air like binding chains.

Yue Xiuying, unbothered, let her attendants carry her away.

As if she already knew how this night would end.

Below, the sect disciples, who had been watching a simple tournament only moments ago, stood frozen in disbelief.

Not a single one spoke.

Because there was only one thought running through their minds.

What the hell just happened?