I Really Am A Villain

But Paimon’s shout came too late, the void had already closed, and Xu Zimo was gone. No one knew where he had been sent.

“It’s fine,” said Seven-Face nearby. “This is merely a limited Primal Dao Formation. Most likely it’s a test left by the White Emperor.”

“Let’s hope the White Emperor is not an enemy,” Paimon replied grimly. “Even for our lord, facing a Saint Sovereign could still be dangerous.”

When Xu Zimo’s vision cleared again, he found himself in the midst of a vast starry sky.

The heavens glimmered with countless stars, and a bright full moon hung high above.

Before him, the chessboard reappeared, but this time, the man sitting opposite him was no longer a statue of stone. He was alive.

“It seems someone has passed the trial,” said the white-haired man calmly.

“You are… the White Emperor?” Xu Zimo asked.

“That’s right,” the man answered without hesitation. “Since you have passed the test, you may now claim my inheritance.”

“What kind of test?” Xu Zimo asked.

“Look at this chessboard,” the White Emperor said, pointing with his right hand.

Previously, the board had been filled entirely with black pieces. But now, as Xu Zimo looked again, he saw that there were no pieces at all, only countless living beings.

The entire chessboard seemed to expand, encompassing the whole Ghost God Heaven.

Among the multitude of black pieces, there was only one white piece.

Hundreds of black stones surrounded that single white piece, sealing every path of retreat.

There was no escape.

“People often say that life is like a game of chess,” the White Emperor said softly. “But true life… how could it ever be so simple? On a chessboard, black and white compete with equal numbers. But in real life, there is only one white piece.”

He moved the board slightly, positioning the white piece at the center. “All the rest are black. Tell me, where can the white one go?”

After speaking, he sighed deeply.

“Darkness… forever endures.”

“What do you want me to say?” Xu Zimo asked quietly.

“This chessboard is a dead game,” the White Emperor replied. “If you were that single white piece, how would you break free?”

Xu Zimo fell silent for a while, then chuckled. “Have you ever heard this saying?”

“What saying?” the White Emperor asked.

“If you can’t beat them,” Xu Zimo said, extending a finger, “join them.”

He lightly tapped the lone white piece.

Instantly, the white stone glowed, then turned completely black.

The White Emperor paused, startled.

“What do you mean by this?” he asked.

“If the white piece remains white, all the black pieces will unite against it,” Xu Zimo explained calmly. “But if it becomes black, then once the formation of all the black pieces is complete, it will no longer be their target. Then, from within, it can slowly plan and rise again.”

The White Emperor blinked, then nodded slightly. “Your reasoning is… a little unorthodox, but refreshingly clear. What you’ve said, in fact, is exactly what we have been doing.”

“Then I’ve passed the test?” Xu Zimo asked.

“You have,” the White Emperor replied. “But I want to ask you something else.”

“What is it?”

“What is your view on the ultimate battle to defy Heaven?” the White Emperor asked.

“Those who seek to defy heaven have their reasons,” Xu Zimo said. “Everyone’s destiny follows a different path. Such questions cannot be answered by others, they can only be answered by one’s own heart. Some people rise to defy heaven because they’ve seen the truth of this world, they see farther than others, and wish to reshape it according to their will. But most people, being ordinary, simply accept the world’s rules.”

“I see… I hope that one day we may meet again,” the White Emperor smiled softly. “And I also hope that we never do.”

His words were cryptic, and before Xu Zimo could respond, his figure shattered completely into light.

He had only left behind a fragment of consciousness, no true being capable of changing anything.

The chessboard dissolved, the starry sky cracked open, and Xu Zimo found himself once again atop the summit of White Emperor Mountain.

Paimon and Seven-Face had been waiting for quite some time.

Before either could speak, the entire White Emperor Mountain began to tremble violently.

A deafening rumble echoed as the mountain cracked apart, splitting from the center.

The once-towering peak divided into two halves, and from the rift burst three glowing lights.

Each light seemed to possess a will of its own, scattering in different directions across the heavens.

Xu Zimo immediately waved his hand, expanding his divine power to capture them all.

He pierced the first sphere of light, revealing within it a fruit, azure blue, radiating a strange aura.

It was not quite the Dao, yet somehow still akin to the Dao.

“What is this?” Xu Zimo asked, glancing at Paimon.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Paimon replied, shaking his head. “If the White Emperor left it behind, it must have some special meaning. Best to keep it for now.”

Xu Zimo nodded, then opened the second sphere of light.

Inside was the very thing he had come to find, the Traceless Compass.

The compass was perfectly circular, its wood of unknown origin. Two inner rings and three outer rings encircled it, etched with mysterious symbols.

Xu Zimo could only barely recognize a few characters, “Heaven and Earth, Jia-Yi, Zi-Chou…”

“This is the Heavenly Script,” Paimon explained after a glance. “It records the Eight Trigrams, the Ten Celestial Stems, and the Twelve Earthly Branches. As for the rest, I can’t decipher it. The Heavenly Script is directly linked to the secrets of the Heavenly Dao, few ever get the chance to see it.”

“With this compass,” Xu Zimo said solemnly, “we can finally locate the Wood God Jumang’s inheritance.”

He carefully stored the compass away, then opened the third and final light.

Inside was a book with a crimson cover.

Three bold characters were written across it, “To Live Twice.”

Flipping through it, Xu Zimo discovered it was a manual teaching how to cultivate a second body or an Avatar outside oneself, just like the relationship between the robed scholar and the White Emperor.

“Interesting,” he murmured, putting the book away.

“Let’s go.”

After sending Paimon and Seven-Face back into the God World, Xu Zimo set off toward the Demi-Ghost Region.

When he passed by White Emperor City, the battle between the three Saint Sovereigns had reached its zenith.

To his surprise, Madman Chu was now completely berserk.

Unleashing his ultimate sword technique, he had fallen into a state of utter madness.

His scarlet eyes blazed with bloodlight, his aura fluctuating between the Chaos Primordial and Eternal Overlord stages.

The sheer force of his power pressed the Abyssal Tyrant into a defensive struggle.

Madman Chu truly lived up to his name, a madman beyond reason, fighting purely on instinct, as though his body moved without his mind.

It was like watching a corpse fight, but one so terrifyingly powerful that it made space and time itself tremble.

The Abyssal Tyrant could barely resist. Every swing of Madman Chu’s sword was filled with boundless, unending sword intent.

Even Red-Blade Bull Demon couldn’t intervene, and could only watch helplessly from the side.

“Truly a madman,” Xu Zimo smiled.

After one last glance, he turned and left.

The Demi-Ghost Region lay in the northwest of the Ghost God Heaven.

It was said to have once been the heartland of the almighty Spectral Ghost Race, who had claimed it during the ancient Ghost-God Apocalypse.

The area was eternally shrouded in eerie, sinister mist.

The Demi-Ghost Region bordered the Half-Grave Region, stretching from Changning City in the east to the God Valley of Buried Souls in the west.

Following the map’s path, Xu Zimo flew for seven days through the void before finally arriving at the God Valley of Buried Souls.