I Really Am A Villain

“Let’s go,” Feng Buxiu’s voice came from the side.

Xu Zimo drew back his gaze from the stone stele, his thoughts returning to the present.

“I wonder what kind of man this Chu Kuangren really was,” he murmured.

“Some say he was a true man of greatness, others that he was a madman,” Feng Buxiu replied. “But regardless of what people call him, Chu Kuangren was one of those rare beings worthy of eternal praise.”

Just as they reached the city gate, a group of people approached from the opposite direction.

“Well, if it isn’t Chancellor Feng himself leading the team this time,” a mocking voice called out.

The newcomers all wore long gray robes. Each carried a quiver of arrows strapped to their backs, the shafts and feathers gleaming in a variety of colors.

Their auras were sharp and cutting, like drawn blades. Every one of their faces was hidden, leaving only a pair of eyes visible, cold, bright, and piercing like arrows.

Meeting their gaze felt like being stabbed by a thousand needles, unbearable and oppressive.

“The Martial Blade Collegium,” Feng Buxiu murmured quietly to Xu Zimo. Then he looked up with a polite smile. “Chancellor Liu, it’s been a long time. You’re personally leading your team as well, I see.”

“Of course,” Liu said with an easy smile. “This competition is too important to entrust to others. I also heard that your academy’s Hong Yu was killed at the Ghost God Collegium not long ago. Tell me, who else do you have left to compete?”

The smug expression on Liu’s face made Feng Buxiu frown slightly. “That’s not something Chancellor Liu needs to concern himself with. Once we’re on stage, the results will speak for themselves.”

Liu chuckled and clapped Feng Buxiu’s shoulder. “Don’t take it to heart, old friend. We’ll settle things in the arena.”

He waved his hand, and his group began to pass by.

As they brushed shoulders, Feng Buxiu’s eyes suddenly sharpened, focusing on one particular figure among them.

It was a young man wrapped entirely in bandages beneath a black robe.

The quiver on his back held arrows unlike the others, each arrowhead was curved like a sickle, glinting with a dark, metallic sheen.

His robe had two long, wing-like strips of cloth that hung down before him. When he moved, those cloths fluttered and sliced through the air, leaving faint tears in the fabric of space itself.

The aura surrounding him was heavy and overwhelming, power compressed to a frightening degree.

“Crimson Soaring Emperor,” Feng Buxiu said grimly once the man’s figure had vanished into the distance.

Turning to Xu Zimo, he asked, “What do you think of him?”

“Can’t say,” Xu Zimo said with a faint smile. “Not until we’ve exchanged blows.”

“Let’s go. Into the city,” Feng Buxiu sighed, turning to lead the way.

But then his body froze. Every hair on his body stood on end as an overwhelming sense of danger washed over him.

He couldn’t even move, his muscles locked tight, his breath caught in his chest.

Something dreadful was coming from behind.

Xu Zimo frowned, turning sharply. A black streak of light shot through the air toward them.

At first, it looked like an arrow, but in an instant, it transformed into a strange beast.

The creature’s body was black and white, long and slender like a giraffe’s, its neck over a meter in length.

Most striking of all was the horn atop its head, over ten meters long, while a pair of wings spread out, gleaming like blades of light as it dove toward Xu Zimo.

Xu Zimo’s eyes narrowed. Spiritual energy surged through him as he stepped forward, the ground cracking open beneath his feet.

He reached out with his right hand, catching the arrow-beast squarely in his palm.

The arrow struggled violently, erupting with destructive energy that tore at the surrounding void, distorting space itself.

But Xu Zimo’s grip did not falter. His fingers tightened, refusing to let go.

Gradually, the force within the arrow weakened until, with a faint flicker, it dissolved into a streak of light and vanished completely.

The suffocating pressure dissipated. Feng Buxiu finally regained his movement and turned around, face dark with anger.

“Liu Xiang!” he shouted at the group from Martial Blade Collegium. “Are you trying to start a war?”

“Chancellor Feng, don’t misunderstand,” said a young man holding a bow, grinning wickedly. “That arrow was mine. It has nothing to do with the academy.”

“Who are you?” Feng Buxiu asked coldly, though he already knew the answer.

“I am Crimson Soaring Emperor,” the youth said with a laugh. “An insignificant name, perhaps Chancellor Feng hasn’t heard of it?”

“How could I not?” Feng Buxiu snapped. “Crimson Soaring Emperor, the Grand Emperor whose title was acknowledged by Heaven and Earth itself, your name echoes throughout Ghost-God Heaven. I have long heard of your renown. But tell me, Crimson Soaring Emperor, what is the meaning of this?”

“Just a bit of friendly sparring,” Crimson Soaring Emperor replied with a smile.

“Friendly sparring?” Feng Buxiu said icily. “That’s not what it looked like.”

“I merely saw that this Fellow Daoist here had an extraordinary presence and thought to test him a little,” Crimson Soaring Emperor said, glancing at Xu Zimo. “You don’t mind, do you?”

“I do,” Xu Zimo said flatly, drawing his blade Shadow Tyrant. “I mind very much. Since I’ve taken your arrow, it’s only fair you take my blade.”

“Sure. No problem,” Crimson Soaring Emperor said with a smirk.

Xu Zimo raised his weapon over his shoulder. Endless Power of Faith surged through him as his eyes aligned perfectly with the blade’s edge.

“Kill!”

He swung down in a single stroke.

Infinite blade intent erupted like a tidal wave, sweeping across the land.

The power of samsara and infernal energy intertwined within the slash, splitting the ground beneath their feet into a web of fissures.

Though Xu Zimo hadn’t used his full strength, the force of his strike was immense.

The ease on Crimson Soaring Emperor’s face vanished.

He drew his bow, the string creaking as it stretched nearly a full meter.

Thrum, thrum, thrum!

The sound reverberated sharply through the air.

When the bow reached its full arc, round as a crescent moon, he loosed the arrow. It transformed into a ferocious Crimson Soaring Emperor Beast once more, hurling itself into the oncoming blade energy.

A deafening boom split the air.

Fire and shockwaves exploded outward. The earth shook violently, and a storm of dust and debris filled the sky.

Within that cloud, the mournful cry of Crimson Soaring Emperor rang out, followed by the roar of blade energy tearing through the air.

Crimson Soaring Emperor frowned and stepped back, twisting his body just in time to avoid the slash.

The blade crashed into the ground, carving a massive fissure at his feet.

His aura surged stronger than before, but though he was uninjured, he had taken a step back first.

That alone meant defeat.

It wasn’t a serious wound, but the humiliation was far worse.

As the dust finally settled, Crimson Soaring Emperor’s expression darkened. He reached for his quiver again,

But a hand stopped him.

“Not here,” said Chancellor Liu, shaking his head. “This isn’t the place for battle.”

Crimson Soaring Emperor turned to him, silent for a moment.

“What’s wrong?” Xu Zimo asked calmly. “Still want to fight?”

“There will be another opportunity,” Crimson Soaring Emperor said quietly.

With a wave of his hand, he turned and strode away.

Since becoming a Grand Emperor, he had never suffered such humiliation.

“Chancellor Feng, until next time,” Liu Xiang said coldly before following.

“Until next time,” Feng Buxiu replied with a hearty laugh.

When they were gone, he turned to Xu Zimo, grinning. “Young Master Xu, I like your temperament, unyielding, vengeful, never backing down.”

“Why should I?” Xu Zimo asked, puzzled. “He was a weakling. Why would I need to tolerate him?”