The Reincarnated Villain Can Break the Fourth Wall!-Chapter 164: The Grand Martial Arena!
The Grand Martial Arena,
Where villains rise & dogs fall...
Today, the Xiantian Sect had outdone itself.
The martial arena had been decorated so extravagantly, even the Sect’s Annual Competition looked like a farmer’s cockfight in comparison.
The colossal white jade battle platform stretched across the heart of the sect, so polished and smooth, it could probably reflect a woman’s insecurities.
The engravings along its edges weren’t just decorations—they were golden dragon motifs infused with sealing formations, ensuring no one accidentally blew up half the sect.
The sun burned brightly above, its golden rays bathing the entire coliseum, making the air sizzle with heat.
But nobody cared.
Because today?
It wasn’t about comfort.
It was about violence.
It was about watching some dumb bastard’s ambitions get shattered.
It was about seeing who would rise to power and who would leave in a body bag.
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At the heart of it all—fourteen grand thrones stood over the battlefield, positioned atop a towering balcony.
Each was carved from spirit stone, exuding a presence that could make even an arrogant genius feel like an insect.
And in the very center, one seat stood above all others—
The Sect Master’s Throne.
Seated upon the highest throne, Zhao Tianxuan, the Sect Master, looked down at the arena like a npc watching peasants fight over scraps.
His silver hair, streaked with white strands, reflected the sunlight, making him look like an old, wise sage—
—except everyone knew this "wise sage" was a cunning bloodthirsty bastard when provoked.
To his right, the legendary Bai Yujian, the Sword Fairy, sat as still as a celestial blade resting in its sheath.
Her flawless white robes embroidered with silver sword patterns made her look holy, but every man in the sect knew—
Trying to touch her was about as safe as shoving your dick into an array of flying swords.
Her expression was icy, her gaze sharp enough to castrate a man at fifty paces.
Yet, despite her stillness—
Her cold eyes flickered subtly toward the battlefield, scanning for one specific bastard.
On the Sect Master’s left, however, a throne sat empty.
Zhu Qing, the Mystic Peak Lord, hadn’t arrived.
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Yet even in her absence, a dark, misty aura curled around her seat, the trace of her presence.
But right now?
Nobody cared about that.
Because the other Peak Lords were already seated.
And what a divine lineup of bastards it was.
____
The Sword Peak Lord – Bai Yujian, the Sword Fairy.
The Mystic Peak Lord – Zhu Qing (Absent)
The queen of formations, illusions, and all things mysterious.
Currently not present, but definitely going to make an entrance by kicking someone’s ass later.
The Fire Peak Lord — Huo Rong
A man so hot-headed, his disciples probably carried buckets of water just in case.
The Frost Peak Lord — Leng Tianhai
A walking ice age. He and the Fire Peak Lord were sitting next to each other, and the temperature war between them had already begun.
The Verdant Peak Lord — Lin Qingfeng
A man who cultivated nature, peace, and way too many female disciples.
The kind of bastard who definitely had at least three secret wives and a hundred illegitimate children.
The Iron Mountain Peak Lord – Elder Han Xuan
Looked like he was sculpted from the very mountain he ruled. His broad shoulders, steel-gray hair, and war-hardened aura made even inner disciples shut up when he walked past.
The Stormfire Peak Lord – Liu Chenfu
His entire existence crackled with lightning and flame. Every time he blinked, some poor bastard in the audience probably got mild burns.
The Alchemy Peak Lord – Xu Tianran
An old fossil whose face looked like he had already died once but decided to keep breathing out of spite. Still, his status as an alchemy grandmaster made even the Sect Master respect him.
The Beast Taming Peak Lord — Feng Ruhu
A man surrounded by spiritual beasts, with a golden eagle perched beside him, staring hungrily at the weaker disciples below.
The Profound Peak Lord — Mo Xuanyu
A gaunt, scholarly figure who looked like he hadn’t eaten in days—but could probably erase someone from existence with a single flick of his finger.
The War Peak Lord — Hong Tianbao
A walking war crime with the strategic mind of a drunken general and the battle instincts of a rabid bull. His disciples? Meatheads with just enough brainpower to swing a weapon and call it "strategy."
They lived by one rule: If you weren’t bleeding by noon, you weren’t training hard enough. Some even whispered that Hong Tianbao got hard just thinking about war.
The Celestial Peak Lord — Yue Xiuying
The kind of woman who could either bless you with fortune or curse your bloodline into extinction—all while sipping tea.
And she actually showed up.
For a thousand years, no one had seen her outside Celestial Peak, where they read fate, fuck with karma, and pretend they’re above mortal struggles. Yet here she was, watching Su Xiaobai. Just that alone was enough to make people wet themselves in excitement—or fear.
The Radiant Peak Lord — Hei Wuying
"Radiant" Peak, my ass. Hei Wuying stood there, draped in black, exuding the exact opposite of anything "radiant." The peak used to be called Shadow Peak, and let’s be real—it still was.
He was the Sect’s official spymaster, unofficial boogeyman, and the reason some disciples slept with one eye open. Even now, his face was covered, as if revealing it might give someone a heart attack.
In short, all thirteen Peak Lords were present.
Which meant shit was about to get serious.
_____
Below, the sect disciples sat in their respective seating areas.
The Outer Court Disciples?
Stuffed into the lowest seating, sweating under the sun like peasants watching a royal execution.
Probably placing illegal bets on which bastard would die first.
The Inner Court Disciples?
Positioned higher, seated beneath elegant canopies, looking far too smug for their own good.
Their expressions fluctuated between curiosity and jealousy.
The Core Disciples?
Sitting on floating jade pavilions, sipping spiritual wine like they were at a damn banquet.
Most of them watched with disdain, already believing themselves superior.
And then there were the elders.
Positioned on a separate grand balcony, observing everything like wise sages—
—except let’s be real, some of them were probably just waiting to see a disciple get his spine broken for entertainment.
The heat was sweltering, but the bloodlust in the arena was hotter.
Because today?
They weren’t just watching a fight.
They were watching a goddamn bloodbath waiting to happen.
And at the center of it all—
The one name on everyone’s lips?
Su Xiaobai.
The man who came from nowhere—
—and was now crushing his way through the ranks like a villain protagonist on a power trip.
____
Bang!
"Did I ask you to surrender?"
Bang!
"Did I ask you to surrender?"
BANG! BANG!
"DID I FUCKING ASK YOU TO SURRENDER?!"
By now, Wen Aiguo—a short, red-haired disciple who once had hopes and dreams—had neither. His head bounced against the jade like a damn drum, his nose vomiting blood, his legs twitching like a crushed bug that hadn’t figured out it was dead yet.
At this point, the only thing keeping him conscious was sheer cruelty.
And Su Xiaobai?
Su Xiaobai was thriving.
Today wasn’t about winning.
Today was about sending a message.
If the strong were too much trouble to bully—
Then the weak would do just fine.
Behind him, another broken sack of disappointment groaned—Luo Chang, another disciple of Stormfire Peak, currently reconsidering every choice that had led him here.
Stormfire Peak had sent two disciples into the ring.
And Su Xiaobai had sent them both straight to hell.
Up in the stands, Liu Chenfu, the Stormfire Peak Lord, watched his disciples get used as pavement decorations.
His jaw twitched.
His eye twitched.
His soul? Twitched.
This wasn’t just a loss—this was a public castration.
His disciples weren’t even fucking weak!
Luo Chang, an initial-stage Soul Fusion cultivator, was supposed to outlast the first few rounds.
And Wen Aiguo?
Peak Nascent Soul Realm. A talented flame cultivator with a half-earth-grade spiritual flame.
A flame that should’ve roasted Su Xiaobai like a damn roast duck.
But instead—
Instead, Su Xiaobai was beating this man like he owed him three months’ rent.
And the flame?
Might as well have been a warm candle in a brothel.
Because Su Xiaobai had Infernal Flames.
A secret flame that made Wen Aiguo’s look like a fucking scented candle.
Liu Chenfu’s face looked like he’d just swallowed a raw spirit beast testicle.
And the crowd?
Sucked in a sharp breath, many disciples suddenly wondering if maybe, just maybe, they should start calling Su Xiaobai Senior Brother.
Because holy fuck.
How did the honorable Sword Fairy produce this unscrupulous bastard?!
Eyes flicked to Bai Yujian, the cold, untouchable Sword Fairy.
Surely, surely, she would say something.
Tell her disciple to stop.
Discipline him.
But she just sat there.
Expression calm.
Eyes distant.
Like a wife watching her husband burn dinner and knowing it’s not her problem.
She had long since given up on controlling him.
At this point, Su Xiaobai was more like a natural disaster.
You don’t stop him.
You just hope he doesn’t hit your house next.
And then—
From above, a voice boomed like divine law.
"Su Xiaobai, that’s enough!"
A gong echoed.
A command from the heavens.
Zhao Tianxuan, the Sect Master, had finally spoken.
Su Xiaobai paused.
Looked down at Wen Aiguo’s blood-smeared, twitching face.
Then looked up at the Sect Master.
Then smiled—gently.
And in that moment, everyone knew—
He was about to be a petty little shit.
"As you wish, Sect Master. I was just testing Senior Brother Wen’s resolve."
BANG.
He dropped Wen Aiguo like a dead fish.
…And then—
Crunch.
Oh no.
"Oops."
’Accidentally’ — He stepped on him.
Not just a step.
A full, weight-on-the-heel, spiked-boot-to-the-back, life-ending stomp.
"AAAAUGHHH!"
Wen Aiguo screeched like a dying pig.
The kind of sound that could haunt a man’s soul. The kind of sound that said "I have made the worst fucking decision of my life."
Zhao Tianxuan’s face darkened.
Liu Chenfu twitched harder.
And Su Xiaobai?
Didn’t even blink.
Meanwhile, Wen Aiguo coughed up more blood, his last scrap of consciousness dangling by a thread. His spiritual flame, his pride, his only fucking advantage in life—
Useless.
Against Infernal Flames, his little half-earth-grade fire was worthless.
Like pissing on a volcano and expecting it to go out.
And now?
The Tournament Had Just Begun, and It Was Already a Shitshow
Su Xiaobai had only been in the sect for a few months, and yet he operated on two modes:
1. Disappear like a deadbeat father for weeks on end, doing god knows what.
2. Come back, break a couple of senior brothers, and traumatize half the sect.
Honestly?
Everyone wanted to be like Senior Brother Su.
The sect had sent six peaks to test him.
Stormfire Peak was already fucked beyond repair, and the remaining four were looking nervous as hell.
Only one figure stood tall, unbothered.
A dark-robed woman, standing right next to Yue Xiuying, the Celestial Peak Lord.
Yue Xi – The Mysterious #1 Inner Court Disciple
Under that black robe, her eyes remained unimpressed, like she had seen better violence before breakfast.
Her name was Yue Xi.
No one knew where she came from.
Not directly recruited into the sect.
No trials. No selection. No backstory.
Yue Xiuying simply "bought" her into the sect one day.
A blatant case of nepotism.
And yet, the woman dominated the rankings like it was her birthright.
Never lost.
Never even struggled.
The sect’s greatest mystery in the form of a beautiful, cold-blooded fighter.
If Yue Xiuying was personally bringing her out to fight Su Xiaobai, it meant only one thing:
She took him seriously.
