“He’s got guts, I’ll give him that. Who else would dare threaten Zhao Wutian and Li Jianhong like this?”
“Tch, guts? More like insanity. But what can one say, this is what Zhao-Li Clan was planning first, Bai Zihan just reversed it.”
“But it will not work. Li Jianhong didn’t even blink when his own son was killed. What’s a nephew to him?”
“It definitely seems like this war is not going to end up any soon!”
…
The onlooker discussed as they eagerly watched what was going to happen next.
Zhao Jian, still looking at him, narrowed his eyes.
But Zhao Wutian didn’t meet his gaze.
Instead, he looked straight ahead, composed, unreadable.
“Damn you…”
Zhao Jian muttered under his breath, fury simmering beneath his otherwise calm expression.
Normally, he would support whatever decision the Clan Leader made—but this time, it involved the life of his dear daughter. How could he just accept it?
Li Jianhong, meanwhile, remained as impassive as stone.
If anything, his disdain only deepened when he saw Zhao Wutian stay silent.
(So much for being a calculating fox. Looks like even he can’t stand against pressure from his own people.)
Li Jianhong didn’t care about Li Xuan.
He cared about victory, dominance, the inheritance.
And now that Bai Zihan had revealed his strength, the possibility that the Bai Clan might be hiding even more secrets behind their back made him want to tear the Bai Clan down even faster.
Letting Bai Xinyue walk free, just because of the threat to a junior like Li Xuan?
That would be ridiculous.
No matter what Bai Zihan said.
His voice rang out cold and clear across the battlefield.
“Continue fighting!”
Orders.
No hesitation.
No retreat.
The elders of the Li Clan obeyed—though a few glanced back at Li Xuan.
“Clan Leader…”
Li Xuan’s father called out.
But Li Jianhong didn’t even glance at him and he knew what that meant.
Zhao Wutian stood there, unmoving, and said nothing.
Bai Zihan looked at Zhao Yue.
Li Xuan was almost worthless, and he understood that—but Zhao Yue seemed to have a bit of value, looking at how it had made Zhao Wutian silent.
“You’re worth more than I expected!”
He said casually.
Then he turned his gaze forward—
Li Xuan!
He was groaning in the dirt like a broken beast, barely conscious. Blood leaked from his lips, and his limbs trembled uncontrollably.
Useless in battle now… but still useful.
Bai Zihan’s eyes narrowed, cold and calculating.
He turned slightly, dragging Zhao Yue a few steps with him before tossing her aside.
She landed hard and gasped, but she wasn’t the focus right now.
Without a word, Bai Zihan walked toward Li Xuan, who tried to crawl away, one arm dragging behind him like dead weight.
“P-Please…”
Li Xuan choked, barely able to speak.
“Y-You won… Just let me go!”
“Sorry, but it looks like your clan doesn’t value you. You can only blame them for forcing me.”
Bai Zihan raised one foot.
CRACK!
“AHHHHHHH!”
A scream ripped through the battlefield as Bai Zihan stomped on Li Xuan’s forearm, shattering it.
The sound was grotesque.
Bones snapping.
Flesh tearing.
And that wasn’t all.
Bai Zihan knelt beside him, grabbed Li Xuan’s remaining good leg—and twisted.
SNAP!
“AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!”
The shriek pierced even the clashing of weapons and roaring Qi in the distance.
Several elders from the Li Clan flinched.
Although they knew that saving Li Xuan wasn’t as important as making sure the Bai Clan didn’t get the Immortal Emperor’s Inheritance, they still felt pity for Li Xuan.
He was just following Li Clan’s order and ended up suffering for it.
What if it was them?
Of course, Bai Zihan’s target wasn’t the Li Clan who seemed adamant about continuing the fight.
It was to show that Zhao Yue would be next—and this was the fate she would have to go through if they didn’t listen to him.
Zhao Yue, lying nearby, turned her head away, lips pale.
Zhao Jian’s fists clenched so tightly that his nails dug into his own palms, drawing blood.
Bai Zihan placed his palm on Li Xuan’s chest.
“Do you think I’m bluffing?”
He asked quietly—but it echoed across the battlefield with chilling clarity.
His Qi surged, and—BOOM!
Li Xuan’s body convulsed violently as his ribs cracked inward under the pressure.
“STOP!!”
The old elder—Li Xuan’s father—screamed, stepping forward.
But of course, Bai Clan elders weren’t going to let him through and kept him there.
Initially, it was them who made sure that they don’t go to Bai Zihan to protect him.
How has the table turned?
Now, the Bai Elders stopped others from approaching Bai Zihan even though they were at a disadvantage.
Bai Zihan turned his head, eyes landing coldly on Zhao Jian.
“I hope you’re watching,”
His voice was sharp, each word cutting like a blade.
“Because if your Clan Leader continues to stand there pretending this isn’t his problem…”
He stood slowly, blood coating his hands.
“… Your daughter will be next!”
Zhao Yue’s eyes widened in horror.
She tried to move, tried to rise—but she could barely sit up, let alone fight back.
“No! I already did what you wanted—please spare me!”
Zhao Yue begged, totally different from when she had attacked and tried to capture Bai Zihan arrogantly.
“You! Don’t you dare!”
Zhao Jian warned.
But of course, he knows that Bai Zihan wasn’t going to listen to him.
He can only turn to Zhao Wutian who was still staying silent.
Zhao Jian’s voice cracked with fury, and at that moment, his worry for his daughter far exceeded his respect and loyalty to Zhao Wutian.
“You—! If she dies, Wutian, I swear—!”
But Zhao Wutian still said nothing and ignored him.
Not a word.
He was still silent—still contemplating. Still trying to ride the razor’s edge between inaction and denial.
And that silence was deafening.
The wind howled, carrying the cries of the wounded.
Bai Zihan turned back toward Zhao Yue.
One foot slowly moved forward.
The message was clear.
No more words.
She was next!
