I Really Am A Villain

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“When the Violet Mist Saint Sovereign is resurrected, he will fight you himself.”

Upon hearing He Changkong’s words, the Samsara Saint Sovereign’s eyes narrowed. “Are you joking? A man who has been dead for ten thousand years, how could he possibly be resurrected?”

“That’s not something you need to concern yourself with,” He Changkong replied calmly.

“I’m afraid that’s impossible,” the Samsara Saint Sovereign said coldly. “Before the Violet Mist Saint Sovereign ever rises again, I’ll destroy your Violet Mist Holy Lands. If he wishes to settle accounts afterward, I’ll be waiting.”

“That’s not up to you,” He Changkong shook his head.

He raised his hand, and a surge of invisible power rippled through the air. The surrounding void solidified, the Dao itself collapsing under its weight.

Across the entire territory of the Violet Mist Holy Lands, a vast divine cage descended from the heavens.

Upon that cage, divine visions appeared, dragons coiled and thrashed their tails, phoenixes cried out in harmony, and the aura of endless reincarnation flowed across its surface.

It was a single cage, yet filled with such celestial phenomena that even the most jaded observer would be left in awe.

At the moment it appeared, even the mighty Samsara Saint Sovereign’s expression changed.

He tried to flee. The Primal Daos around him flared to life, and the space that had been frozen a moment ago shattered as he broke free.

He ripped open the void before him with a single hand, abandoning even the Samsara Mountain behind, desperate to escape.

He Changkong never moved to stop him. He only watched, smiling faintly.

“It’s useless,” he said. “If you were still within your Ancient Samsara God Realm, I might not be able to touch you. But here, within the lands of the Violet Mist Holy Lands, I am God.”

As his words fell, the celestial cage above came crashing down from the sky, locking onto the Samsara Saint Sovereign.

The Saint Sovereign tried to teleport away, traversing millions of miles in an instant, but no matter how far he fled, the cage enveloped him once more.

With a deafening boom, the earth shook violently as the cage slammed down before the Violet Mist Holy Lands.

Inside, waves of samsara power erupted, battering against the prison from within in an unending assault.

“Don’t bother struggling,” He Changkong said confidently. “This cage is forged from the Iron of the River of Time. Unless you can truly enter that river, you’ll never break free.”

“That’s hardly difficult,” the Samsara Saint Sovereign replied evenly. “Once I comprehend the essence of this Iron of Time, I’ll emerge easily enough. It’s just metal, not the true River of Time itself.”

“I don’t intend to keep you imprisoned for long,” He Changkong said softly, glancing toward the depths of the Violet Mist Holy Lands. “By the time you figure it out, he should already be revived.”

“You Violet Mist people came well-prepared,” the Saint Sovereign said with a faint smirk. “You even built such a thing for me. But when I emerge, it will mark the destruction of your Holy Land.”

Though trapped, he showed no sign of panic.

At his level, even death was no end, his essence and soul could be reborn. The Iron of the River of Time might bind him for now, but it was also a rare opportunity, a chance to comprehend its mysteries.

“This wasn’t made for you,” He Changkong said coldly.

Only Xu Zimo understood, this Iron of the River of Time had been forged to imprison the Heavenly Court itself.

It was clear that the revival of the Violet Mist Saint Sovereign had been planned long ago.

After speaking, the Samsara Saint Sovereign closed his eyes, ignoring He Changkong entirely. He sat cross-legged within the cage, beginning his meditation on the Iron of Time.

As for World-Weary Immortal, he had already fled long ago, escaping with the Samsara Mountain. With even his ancestral elder imprisoned, he didn’t dare remain for a moment longer.

“City Lord He, your methods are impressive,” the Ancestral Warden remarked in awe.

“Just minor tricks,” He Changkong said with a calm smile. “Our Saintess has been waiting for some time. Please, both of you, follow me.”

He led the way, with Xu Zimo and the Ancestral Warden close behind as they entered the depths of the Violet Mist Holy Lands.

From the outside, the Holy Land shimmered with radiant clouds and divine light, it seemed sacred, majestic.

But within, it appeared to be nothing more than an ordinary forest.

The only difference was that every plant and tree exuded Dao rhythm, their vitality overflowing, their growth exuberant.

“This place…” the Ancestral Warden murmured, scanning the surroundings, his mind deep in thought.

Finally, He Changkong halted before an ancient gate.

In the midst of the lush forest, the sudden appearance of the portal felt out of place, even surreal.

He placed his right hand gently against its surface.

A muffled “boom” echoed.

The gate vanished, and in its place stood a colossal tree, stretching thousands of miles into the sky, its crown lost to the clouds, its branches vast and abundant.

At the center of its trunk was a narrow crack, bound together by countless interwoven vines. The surface felt soft to the touch, like living flesh.

He Changkong stepped through the gap first. Xu Zimo and the Ancestral Warden followed, the texture yielding like spun cotton beneath their fingers, with a strange, springy elasticity.

But once they passed through, the Ancestral Warden froze, his eyes wide in astonishment.

Before them lay an endless expanse of divine land.

Mountains and rivers stretched beyond sight, dense with surging spirit energy. Celestial herbs and immortal trees crowned the peaks, while visions of heaven and earth appeared constantly in the skies.

Mighty creatures could be seen in the distance, swallowing the essence of sun and moon.

Above it all, the galaxy hung across the heavens, while blazing suns intertwined with drifting snow.

“What a sacred land,” the Ancestral Warden breathed. Even he could not contain his awe.

Even compared to the Ancient Demon Realm, this place was its equal, perhaps greater.

It wasn’t that the Ancient Demon Realm was lacking; it had flourished for countless ages, filled with divine beasts and immortal flora.

But this land was different, it carried divinity itself.

Divinity was a mysterious thing. Even a clump of soil imbued with divine essence could spark a war between empires.

Yet here, the very air overflowed with divinity, not born naturally, but forcibly extracted and infused into this world by human hands.

From the outside, no one would ever imagine that the Violet Mist Holy Lands concealed such a vast inner realm.

“They say the Violet Mist Holy Lands has long since fallen,” the Ancestral Warden murmured. “But seeing this… many so-called holy sects are far beneath it.”

“Please, come,” He Changkong said with an easy smile. He seemed utterly at ease, long accustomed to this divine paradise.

“The Violet Mist Saint Sovereign’s resurrection,” Xu Zimo said, “I assume I’m not the only one invited to guard his Dao?”

He Changkong paused for a moment, then smiled. “The young master sees clearly. Yes, three others have also been invited.”

“Who?” the Ancestral Warden asked curiously.

“The Bright Mirror Saint Sovereign, the Demon-Refining Saint Sovereign, and the Moonlight Fairy,” He Changkong answered.

“Three Saint Sovereigns?” the Ancestral Warden exclaimed, his breath catching in his throat. “That’s… impossible.”

After all, Saint Sovereigns were beings rarely seen, their existence like divine dragons, known by name, but almost never encountered.

Each one was the ancestor of a holy lineage, forever meditating and striving toward higher realms.

“It seems the Samsara Saint Sovereign’s arrival wasn’t just for revenge,” the Ancestral Warden murmured. “He must have caught wind of this revival long before.”