The Reincarnated Villain Can Break the Fourth Wall!

This wasn't Sword Intent.

Hong Tianbao, the War Peak Lord, a man draped in the mane of a silver lion, felt a rare chill crawl down his spine.

He wiped the sweat off his forehead, his battle-hardened instincts screaming at him.

"Sword Fairy, what exactly did you teach your disciple?"

His voice was casual, but his gaze was sharp, wary.

Sword Intent was meant to cut.

But this?

This was destruction.

If Su Xiaobai was allowed to grow, no war strategy would be able to contain him.

Bai Yujian sat still, her beautiful face unreadable.

But inside?

Inside, she was suffering from a storm of emotions.

Confusion.

Surprise.

And something she hadn't felt in years—doubt.

The other Peak Lords pressed her for answers.

"What kind of training did you use?"

"Is this some hidden Sword Dao technique?"

Bai Yujian sighed softly and shook her head.

Then, she finally spoke her mind.

"I didn't train him at all." Her voice was calm, but beneath it lay a storm of emotions. "It's a normal level-two Sword Intent… I didn't expect him to learn it by himself. Maybe—maybe he can go even higher and is still holding back."

Silence.

And then—

"Fart!"

An elder directly cursed.

"If you didn't train him, then where the hell did this demonic existence crawl out from?!"

The other Peak Lords weren't any better.

"Bullshit! A mere level-two Sword Intent shattering a Heaven-Burning Tyrant Fist?! Do you take us for fools?!"

Bai Yujian said nothing.

Because, truth be told—

Even she did not understand.

Her disciple?

Had become something beyond her comprehension.

____

[Flame Devours Heaven]

BOOM!

The entire arena burned.

Flames rose like a tidal wave, swallowing everything in their path, twisting into fiery hands that stretched toward the heavens.

Yan Wushang had gone insane.

His aura raged uncontrollably, the sheer heat of his Ninefold Inferno Body turning the battlefield into a furnace.

For the audience, the battle was no longer visible—only an endless sea of flames.

And within it—

A chase.

Yan Wushang charged like a crazed beast, fists coated in molten fire, his every punch leaving scorching craters behind.

And Su Xiaobai?

He was dodging.

Leaping, flickering, vanishing and reappearing like a phantom dancing between the flames.

"Come here! Where the hell are you running?!"

Yan Wushang's voice roared through the inferno, his frustration fueling his madness.

But the more Su Xiaobai ran, the more he lost control.

The Peak Lords observed calmly.

"Hmph. He can't dodge forever. If even one of those punches lands, Su Xiaobai will be shattered."

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They were already losing interest.

After all, cultivation wasn't just about strength—

It was about control.

Only Bai Yujian's gaze remained sharp, her focus locked onto Su Xiaobai.

She wasn't watching the flames.

She was watching him.

Waiting.

Observing.

She wanted to see it again.

That strange sword intent.

And then—

Su Xiaobai stopped.

"Wh—" Yan Wushang's eyes widened mid-charge.

From a fleeing shadow, Su Xiaobai had suddenly become a mountain.

Unmoving.

Unshakable.

Then—

A whisper.

"Celestial Decree."

SHIIING!

A single arc of sword light flashed—

Bright. Blinding. Absolute.

And then—

SPLURT!

Yan Wushang's arms flew into the air.

Blood sprayed like a crimson waterfall, his hands—severed cleanly at the wrist—falling to the ground.

Everyone froze.

Even the elders stood up.

"Third-level Sword Intent?!"

Yan Wushang stumbled back, breathing heavy.

Then, he sneered.

"Hah! Is that all?!" His voice boomed with arrogance.

"I wield the Crimson Sun Baptism! I can drain the energy of the sun itself and regrow my limbs!"

The crowd nodded.

Yes. This wasn't over.

He simply had to channel his bloodline, absorb the flames, and—

Su Xiaobai's laughter rang out.

Like a villain about to unveil his final act.

Yan Wushang frowned.

Then—

He saw it.

Su Xiaobai was holding something.

His severed hands.

And in one smooth motion—

He took the gauntlets off them.

Then—

He wore them.

Yan Wushang's face drained of color.

"YO-YOU! THAT'S AGAINST THE RULES!"

The crowd barely had time to react—

BANG!

A flaming fist collided with Yan Wushang's face, sending him soaring out of the arena.

The crowd exploded in shock.

"DAMN! DID HE JUST ROB HIM MID-FIGHT?!"

"SU XIAOBAI, YOU HAVE NO SHAME!"

"A TRUE VILLAIN, THROUGH AND THROUGH!"

And in the center of it all—

Yan Wushang lay motionless, buried in the aftermath of his own arrogance.

The once blazing-red hair, ignited by the essence of the sun itself, dimmed back to black—like a dying ember in the ashes of defeat.

His flaming gaze, once filled with untamed fury, had now dulled into blank emptiness.

The fight was over.

Or so it seemed.

CRACK—

A deep, primordial rumble echoed through the air.

And then—

BOOM!

Su Xiaobai's sword aura, bore down upon Yan Wushang like the weight of a collapsing firmament.

The ground beneath him groaned in protest, his body sinking a foot into the earth.

A sickening crunch followed—his bones grinding against themselves, blood splurting from his joints.

A crater formed around him.

The crowd collectively winced.

"T-the fight was already over…!"

"Then why the hell is Senior Brother Su still hammering him into the dirt like an unwanted bastard child?!"

At that moment—

A furious bellow erupted from the balcony.

"SU XIAOBAI, STOP BREAKING THE RULES!"

It was the Fire Peak Lord.

His balcony edge cracked beneath his grip, his aura flaring like an inferno about to devour the sky.

Su Xiaobai blinked, tilting his head.

Then—he smiled.

"Oh? I accidentally forgot to retract my sword aura."

His voice was light, almost polite.

Like a scholar apologizing for spilling ink on a priceless scroll.

Huo Rong's temples throbbed.

"ACCIDENT?! YOU CALL THAT AN ACCIDENT?!"

The other Peak Lords chuckled into their sleeves.

None of them moved to support him.

Because this?

This was nothing more than a betrayal returned in kind.

Huo Rong had already thrown Su Xiaobai to the wolves—

Now he was watching, powerless, as the wolves feasted.

Yet while the sect buzzed with chaos, some had already seen through the truth hidden within the flames.

This wasn't simply Sword Intent.

No.

This was something far more terrifying.

A sword should sever.

A blade should cleave.

The Dao of the Sword was meant to slice apart all obstacles before it.

But Su Xiaobai's sword—

Did not cut.

It bore down.

It crushed.

It carried the will of celestial bodies, the weight of the boundless firmament, the pressure of stars drifting too close, ready to devour lesser moons into oblivion.

His sword didn't aim to pierce the flesh—

It sought to fold space itself, to reduce its victims into cosmic dust.

A technique that did not slash through its enemies—

But instead collapsed upon them, devouring them like the event horizon of a dying star.

One of the elders exhaled sharply, eyes trembling.

"He… He completely shattered the core principle of Sword Intent… and reforged it into something else entirely."

The Peak Lords were silent.

But their eyes drifted toward Bai Yujian.

And then—

A voice whispered, filled with reverence.

"Only the Sword Fairy could have taught him something like that…"

Bai Yujian's face instantly flushed red in shame.

Because she knew the truth.

She didn't teach him a thing!

Her fingers twitched.

She suddenly had the urge to grab Su Xiaobai by his collar and shake the secrets out of him.

Where… where the hell did this brat even learn that?!

That was the thought burning through Bai Yujian's mind.

And it wasn't just her.

The entire sect had been thrown into mess.

Su Xiaobai had not only cut down Yan Wushang—he had humiliated him, stolen his weapons, and left him buried like a forgotten corpse.

And now?

Now Huo Rong and Zhao Tianxuan were at each other's throats.

"This brat! Sect Master, we need to discuss proper punishment—"

"Punishment for what? For winning?" Zhao Tianxuan's voice was calm, but his tone carried a hint of warning.

Before Huo Rong could retort, a playful chuckle echoed.

"Hey, Firecracker, stop whining."

It was Zhu Qing, her arms crossed, amusement flickering in her fox-like eyes.

"If your disciple is too weak, that's not Su Xiaobai's problem. Taking care of your weapon during battle is a warrior's most basic instinct. If Yan Wushang couldn't keep his gauntlets, then that's his own fault."

The crowd collectively inhaled.

She just fucking said it.

Huo Rong's face darkened instantly, veins bulging at his temples.

"You—" His fists trembled, "Fine! Laugh while you can! Let's see if you're still laughing when he is lying broken at someone's feet!"

Zhao Tianxuan frowned, his expression cooling.

"Huo Rong, do I need to remind you that this is a friendly spar at best?"

"Friendly?" Huo Rong let out a cold laugh. "Is that what we're calling it now? When the boy himself is fighting like a devil?!"

"And yet, he hasn't killed anyone." Zhao Tianxuan's voice remained firm. "Unlike your disciple, who nearly turned the arena into a funeral pyre."

Huo Rong didn't respond.

Because he wasn't looking at them anymore.

His gaze locked onto the battlefield below.

His voice, though quiet, carried through the flames.

"Lingxue. If you can't defeat him, don't bother coming back to Fire Peak."

The crowd tensed.

And then—without another word—

Huo Rong turned and left.

The sect was bewildered.

"What the hell is wrong with the Fire Peak Lord today?!"

"First Liu Chenfu, now Huo Rong… Why are all these Peak Lords suddenly losing their shit over Su Xiaobai?!"