The Reincarnated Villain Can Break the Fourth Wall!-Chapter 65: Xiantian Sect! Landing With a Bang!

One day later…

Atop the colossal Wind Serpent Mountains, where the skies flirted shamelessly with eternity, the gates of the Xiantian Sect began to creak open. Each slab of black jade, taller than a hundred men stacked like kindling, celestial sigils that pulsed faintly, like the drunken breaths of a slumbering god.

Crrrrrraaaak…

The sound rolled through the mountain range like thunder on a bad mood, crashing into valleys that stretched for thousands of li. This wasn’t just some run-of-the-mill sect. No, this was the Xiantian Sect—the place where legends were born and lesser sects came to grovel. Once, it had stood at the very pinnacle of cultivation, not just in Yue Country but across every nearby province where men and beasts dared to tread.

The Xiantian Sect wasn’t a quaint collection of courtyards and temples—it was a sprawling empire gouged from the bones of the mountains themselves. Its domain spanned three hundred peaks, each one stabbing into the heavens like a god’s personal spear.

The main peaks were so high their summits vanished into the mist, where, according to rumors, dragon spirits snoozed and Qi grew so thick you could choke on it. Even mortals, with their pathetic little lungs, might catch a glimpse of the Dao up there—if they didn’t pass out first.

Each peak was its own little kingdom of absurdity. Iron Mountain Peak? A place where the air constantly smelled like wet rocks and thunder, and the martial disciples were madmen who could split mountains with their punches and scare the heavens with their shouts.

Then there was Starfire Peak, where forges roared without rest, spewing out treasures that could either extend your life for centuries or blow your enemies into pieces small enough to sprinkle on rice.

And let’s not forget Jade Moon Peak, bathed in creepy silver light and home to scholars and seers who spent their days poking into the secrets of heaven.

They read forbidden texts and made calculations so obscure even the gods probably scratched their heads.

And the lesser peaks? No less majestic. Rivers poured like liquid silk from unseen heights, feeding lakes that shimmered with spiritual light. Sacred beasts roamed dense forests. Hidden valleys brimmed with herbs that could heal or kill with a single leaf.

Outside the gates, thousands gathered. Twenty thousand, to be precise, each staring at the towering doors as if hoping they might part the heavens themselves.

Hiss~~

The crowd buzzed—nervous, eager, desperate. Nobles in embroidered robes fidgeted beside mercenaries with faces like old leather. A farmer clutched a jade token so tightly his hand bled. No one cared. No one noticed.

When the gates opened, a man stepped forth.

Elder Han Xuan.

Silence fell. It wasn’t just his presence—it was his aura, heavy as the mountains themselves. His purple robe, embroidered with the jagged sigil of Iron Mountain Peak, shook like a storm. His face was a mask of stone, his eyes sharp enough to carve souls.

"LISTEN UP!" Elder Han’s voice cracked like a whip made of thunder. "Today, the Xiantian Sect will accept only nine disciples. Nine! Not ten! Not eleven! If you haven’t reached Core Formation by the age of thirty, turn around and go home. Or better yet, find the nearest cliff and jump—you’ll save yourself the humiliation."

Gasp!

The crowd shifted uneasily. Core Formation by thirty? For most people, that was about as realistic as seducing the moon fairy. Achieving it required the kind of talent, resources, and luck that entire clans couldn’t muster.

Elder Han’s lip curled into something between a sneer and a smile. "Let me spell it out for you frogs in a well. At Qi Condensation, your dantian is like a leaky bucket—barely capable of holding enough Qi to light a lantern. But Core Formation? That’s when you forge a spiritual core—a star burning in your chest, a furnace of power that separates cultivators from the piss-drinking mortals below. Without it, you’re dirt. With it, you’re worth my attention."

His gaze swept the crowd, and for a moment, it felt like the heavens themselves were judging every pore on their faces. "But don’t think brute strength will get you far. This sect demands genius, vision, and guts big enough to challenge the heavens themselves. If you lack that, kindly scram before you embarrass yourself."

The trials began, each one crueler than the last.

First came the ’Path of Shadows’, a labyrinth of illusions that rooted through the aspirants’ minds like a nosy neighbor. Some stumbled out with blank eyes, others wept uncontrollably, and one poor fool collapsed while muttering about a broken promise to his dead sister.

Then there was ’The Stone Heavens’, an arena where gravity increased until even breathing felt like a mortal sin. Aspirants collapsed left and right, their faces purple as rotten plums. Elder Han’s laughter echoed coldly through the arena. "Is this the best Yue Country has to offer? Even my sect’s pigs have more spine!"

Finally, the ’Martial Ascension Arena’, a battlefield of chaos. Qi flared. Blood spilled. Alliances were forged and shattered in heartbeats. The weak fell. The strong stood. When the dust settled, fewer than twenty remained.

_______

As the sun dipped low, nine figures stepped forward, battered but triumphant. Elder Han’s sharp eyes swept over them, his gaze heavy as the mountains themselves.

"These nine…," he began,"You have earned your place. But don’t think the trials are over."

"You will begin as outer court disciples, the lowest rung. On the lower slopes, you will share barracks and fight for scraps like starving dogs. Grueling labor, endless training, missions that flirt with death—you’ll face it all. Prove yourselves worthy, and you may rise. Fail…"

He let the silence answer for him.

The hierarchy was clear. The inner court, where cultivation treasures flowed like rivers, was reserved for the elite. Beyond that stood the core disciples, the sect’s pride—trained by ’peak masters’, wielding power that could shake kingdoms.

But for now, these nine stood at the bottom of a mountain they barely understood.

His gaze turned to the rest of the crowd. "For those who failed, the gates are closing. Return in fifty years—if you survive that long."

The sourc𝗲 of this content is frёeωebɳovel.com.

Creakkkkk…

The massive jade gates groaned shut, the sound swallowing the mountain air. A hush fell over the rejected as they turned to leave, their dreams crushed under the weight of reality. A quiet sniffle. A muttered curse. A soft, bitter laugh.

Then—

"WAIT!"

The shout shattered the silence. Heads swiveled as a figure staggered forward, disheveled and gasping. A man, drenched in sweat, clutched a small girl under one arm—her wide eyes gleaming with cunning innocence.

Behind him, another woman in crimson robes, stumbled into view, panting.

"Haa… haa… Master…" Xiao Lu bent over, gripping her knees, "I-Is it gone?" Her crimson robes clung to her, streaked with dirt. She cast a frantic look over her shoulder, her flushed face framed by loose strands of hair.

Elder Han stepped forward, his voice sharp as a blade. "Who are you fools? Explain yourselves before I throw you down the mountain."

Before anyone could respond, the ground shuddered.

THOOM. THOOM. THOOM.

The distant horizon shifted. A shadow, vast and terrifying, rose higher with each step.

"What… what is that?" someone whispered, their voice trembling.

"Is it a… mountain?"

The "mountain" actually moved.

Glowing violet eyes flickered to life, blazing like twin suns. Its craggy face twisted as it lumbered forward, each step shaking the earth.

CRACK! BOOM!

Boulders split and fell, the air itself seemed to shake with its presence.

Elder Han’s voice dropped to a whisper. "The Crimson Ore Behemoth…"

Gasps rippled through the crowd like wildfire.

"The Crimson Ore Behemoth?"

"Impossible… it’s a Deity Transformation beast!"

"A legendary existence!"

The behemoth, a creature of legend. Its body shimmered like molten ore, veins of spiritual energy coursing through its hulking frame. For eons, it had slumbered deep within the mountains, undisturbed and unmovable. Until now.

Elder Han’s gaze snapped to Su Xiaobai, sharp enough to cut through steel. "You. What did you do?"

Su Xiaobai, still catching his breath, glared down at Xiao Hei, dangling from his arm like a sack of rice. "You… What did I tell you about touching things?"

"Humph~!" Xiao Hei pouted, her glossy lips trembling as she stared at the now-awakened object.

The plan had been simple: dispose of it quietly. Yet, a single careless touch had ruined everything. If left unchecked, that thing could have nearly killed them in the future.

But how could she possibly explain all this to the furious Su Xiaobai standing before her?

"Toys?!" Su Xiaobai’s voice cracked with fury. "It’s always toys! Everything is a toy to you!"

Behind them, Xiao Lu groaned, pressing a hand to her forehead, with a deft flick of her rope, she wiped the sweat off Su Xiaobai’s brow. "Master, please. Less shouting, more running!"

The crowd erupted in panic.

"A Deity Transformation beast?"

"We’re dead!"

"We can’t fight that!"

"Shut up!" Su Xiaobai barked, glaring at the crowd. "You think I ’wanted’ this thing chasing me?"

"ENOUGH!"

Elder Han’s voice split the crowd like a thunderclap. BOOM! His spiritual energy erupted, crushing the air. Stones cracked beneath his feet as his aura surged, coalescing into the jagged silhouette of a towering mountain.

"If any of you flee now," he said, his voice low and threatening, "I’ll kill you myself..."