The Reincarnated Villain Can Break the Fourth Wall!-Chapter 82: Killing past to save the Future!

[MAKE YOUR CHOICE, WARRIOR. WHO WOULD YOU SAVE?]

The voice thundered through Su Xiaobai’s mind, cold and unforgiving. Before he could curse the heavens, the mist coiled, shaping itself into a flickering humanoid figure.

The shadow stepped forward, its presence oppressive, its voice a quiet blade breaking through his thoughts.

"Take this," it said, extending a dagger that shimmered like molten starlight. "Kill three, and one may leave. That is the price of passage."

Su Xiaobai’s lips curled in a sneer. "Kill three? How original. Who dreams up this garbage?"

But his disdain faltered as the figures ahead emerged from the mist.

Four shapes.

Four faces.

The first figure? Oh, fantastic—it was him.

Or, rather, his past self: Caine Wilson. Short black hair, a grin that could make saints swear, and eyes that glowed like someone lit a bonfire in them. The sight made Su Xiaobai want to vomit and punch a wall simultaneously.

"Sup," Past Him said, smirking like he owned the place. "Bet you didn’t think you’d see me again, huh?"

Su Xiaobai’s face twitched, "You’re not real," he snapped, mostly to convince himself. "This is some twisted magic trick. An illusion."

"Sure," Caine Wilson drawled, rolling his eyes. "Keep telling yourself that, buddy. But between you and me? You’re still the same bastard, just in a fancier outfit."

Before Su Xiaobai could lunge at his annoying ghost of Christmas past, his eyes shifted to the other three figures—and oh boy, the universe wasn’t pulling its punches today.

His mother stood there, her kind eyes looking at him with this soul-crushing sadness that made his chest feel like it was in a vice. She looked… smaller. Fragile, even.

Then there was Su Yiran, his elder sister, standing tall with that "I will punch you if you mess this up" energy she always had. Her sharp gaze cut through the shadows, daring him to screw up.

And Su Xiaomei, the youngest, clutching a tattered doll, her wide eyes brimming with fragile hope.

"Choose," the shadow repeated, its voice calm, yet heavier than mountains. "Kill three, and one may leave. Or do nothing, and all will perish."

Su Xiaobai’s brain was going a million miles an hour, but all he could manage was a dry chuckle, "So, the great path of cultivation just boils down to slaughter. Shocking."

"This is the truth," the shadow said. "Sacrifice. Detachment. Strength. Or you can cling to them and die here."

Caine laughed, low and mocking. "It’s not a hard choice, is it? Face it. You’ve always been good at survival, Xiaobai. Ruthless, practical, selfish. That’s why I’m still here—because you can’t erase me."

"Shut up," Su Xiaobai snapped, his grip on the dagger tightening.

His gaze shifted between the faces. His mother, who had shielded him when his choices set the world against their family. Su Yiran, who fought for him when no one else would. And Xiaomei, the last fragment of hope tied to his name.

And then, there was Caine Wilson.

Not a weakness. Not a regret.

A hatred—one he wanted to tear apart and bury for good.

’Could I kill my past to save my future?’

The dagger felt like lead in his hand, heavy with more than just steel.

He had dismissed the trial as utter nonsense, confident he could break through with ease—but no, this was the real deal.

The truth made him chuckle bitterly.

_____

On the far end of the chamber, three figures loomed like ominous deities judging the fate of mortals, their eyes glued to the swirling mist within a mirrored formation.

"Think he’ll pass?" Zhu Qing’s voice was as light as the breeze that stirred mountain blossoms, though her sharp emerald eyes betrayed a piercing curiosity.

Leaning against the stone wall, her Mystic Vein Peak robes shimmered like jade rivers, their flow as effortless as her confidence.

Sect Master Zhao Tianxuan, his silver-streaked hair glowing faintly in the formation’s light, didn’t reply right away. The old fox’s face was locked in an expression so contemplative, you’d think he was calculating the lifespan of stars

"It depends," he said finally, his tone measured. "The Trial of Shadows doesn’t test strength alone. It strips a cultivator bare, revealing their essence. If he falters, talent means nothing."

Zhu Qing’s lips curved faintly. "Talent’s useless if you die before you wield it."

Her interest in Su Xiaobai was no secret.

As Mystic Vein Peak’s lord and the sect’s reigning queen of formations, Zhu Qing had seen more brilliance than most—but even she had nearly choked on her tea when she’d heard about Su Xiaobai. A disciple from Sword Peak, barely wet behind the ears, had whipped up a formation so flawless it could probably make the heavens blush.

Curiosity had yanked her straight out of closed-door cultivation, and when she saw the truth with her own eyes? Oh, she’d been floored. A Sword Peak brat, of all people, had managed this feat. The sheer truth of it had nearly cracked her composed facade.

"Does he even know how rare he is?" she mused, her gaze still on the formation. "An outer disciple mastering formations… If he survives, I’ll take him. I want to see what he’s truly capable of." Your journey continues on novelbuddy

Beside her, Bai Yujian’s icy gaze flickered. "His path is the sword. He chose it himself," she said, she said, standing rigid as a frost statue, her tone sharp and curt as if she were chopping vegetables.

Zhu Qing arched an elegant brow. "Is it? A sword cuts, but a formation bends the heavens. Perhaps his path is broader than you think."

Hiss~

Bai Yujian’s lips tightened, and for a moment, it seemed like she might hurl an icicle at Zhu Qing.

Yet, deep down, even she didn’t know why she felt so defensive.

By logic, it didn’t matter which peak Su Xiaobai ended up in, as long as it benefited the sect?—only the sect’s future did.

Yet her gaze returned to the formation, her expression impassive, though her thoughts churned like storm clouds. Unlike her companions, Bai Yujian wasn’t merely a Peak Lord. She was the Sect Guardian, a being of ancient wisdom and power who had shaped the sect for centuries.

It was she who had selected Zhao Tianxuan as Sect Master, and Zhu Qing as Peak Lord.

They were her juniors, capable yet still far beneath her in experience.

And yet, Su Xiaobai…

His potential disturbed her. The Trial of Shadows was merciless; failure meant expulsion.

Few dared attempt it. Fewer still succeeded.

It stripped cultivators of illusions, forcing them to confront their fears and attachments.

Zhao Tianxuan broke the silence, his voice steady. "The trial demands choice without hesitation. Linger too long, and it breaks you."

"He’s already taking too long," Bai Yujian murmured, her tone colder than the mountain’s peak winds.

Zhu Qing smirked, glancing at her. "Worried? That’s rare. He must be special if even you’re stirred."

Bai Yujian turned to Zhu Qing, her gaze sharp. "If he fails, he leaves. That’s the rule. And you? — You abandoned a breakthrough to chase him. Who’s stirred now?"

"..." Zhu Qing’s smirk faltered, a faint blush creeping into her cheeks as she looked away.

Zhao Tianxuan took a step back, his movements slow and deliberate, like a man tiptoeing past a sleeping beast. Two beasts, in fact—Zhu Qing, bristling with wounded pride, and Bai Yujian, exuding a chill that could freeze hell itself. This was no place for the Sect Master to die.

Zhu Qing turned her glare toward Zhao Tianxuan, clearly expecting him to intervene. But Zhao Tianxuan wasn’t stupid. No amount of authority as Sect Master could make him willingly dive into the mess between these two. Their shared history was…complicated, to say the least.

Once, Bai Yujian, in her infinite wisdom, had arranged for him to marry Zhu Qing. ’A perfect union,’ she’d declared. Right. A match so "perfect" that the moment he became Sect Master, he’d shattered the engagement faster than a loose sword shattered in combat.

Zhu Qing’s personality? Not for him. But that decision still haunted him like a bad debt.

Now, centuries later, here they stood, all that tension bubbling beneath the surface. Zhao Tianxuan shot a quick glance at Han Xuan, who had wisely stationed himself on the sidelines with the others. Clever bastard.

Han Xuan was joined by Xu An, the sect enforcer whose face had all the enthusiasm of a man chewing raw spirit grass; the Frost Peak Elder, whose far-off stare suggested he’d mentally retired already; and the Fire Peak Elder, who looked one step away from setting himself ablaze to escape this nonsense.

All of them were from the same generation, bonded by the Trial of Shadows—a trial that had shaped their lives and elevated them to their current positions.

Most had risen from within the sect, like Zhao Tianxuan and Zhu Qing, forged in the sect’s fires.

The Frost Peak Elder, however, was a wildcard—a foreigner they’d picked up centuries ago during an intercontinental tournament in Tianlong Empire.

He’d passed the trial too, proving himself as worthy as the rest.

That shared history was why they now stood here, watching Su Xiaobai—a brat barely out of the outer court—facing a trial usually reserved for core disciples and elders. Bai Yujian’s decision to throw him in? Controversial didn’t begin to cover it.

"If he passes," Han Xuan said with a sly grin, "we’ve got ourselves a monster. Kid like that? Put him anywhere—Sword Peak, Mystic Vein Peak, even Iron Mountain Peak—and he’ll conquer it."

Zhao Tianxuan crossed his arms, his expression grave. "Pass or fail, it’s the trial’s call. No one can meddle."

The trial wasn’t just about strength or skill; it was about heart. The easiest way to pass? Refuse the trial, admitting you weren’t ready. That showed the humility of a righteous heart.

But to pass with true glory? To shine? That demanded sacrifice. The kind that left scars on your soul. Zhao Tianxuan had made that choice long ago, and it had earned him the Sect Master’s seat.

Zhu Qing, sensing the tension, slyly drifted away from Bai Yujian and sidled up to the group, "Of course, we can’t intervene. But if he fails, I’ll still want to meet him. He’s too fascinating to ignore."

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Her teasing words didn’t distract Bai Yujian.

Bai Yujian said nothing, though her sharp eyes flicked briefly toward the group. The way they all shuffled around like nervous rabbits trying to avoid her glare was almost amusing.

Almost. She didn’t care about their petty evasions.

Her gaze remained locked on the mirrored formation, her expression carved from ice, but a faint crease marred her brow.

’He has to pass,’ she thought, her ancient heart betraying a rare flicker of concern.