Clan Building System: I'm not the Protagonist?!

Fang Yuan drew in a small breath. He extended a single finger.

But that one motion pulled in all the surrounding spiritual energy; dense and suffocating until it gathered silently at his fingertip.

Then… he pressed it forward.

"…N-Nephew…" Fang Wei's voice cracked. His eyes, wide with terror, locked onto the finger resting against his chest. "C-Cousin… I'm your uncle. Spare me."

Fang Yuan didn't blink.

Fang Wei's breath quickened, panic overtaking pride.

He stumbled back, hands raised, voice growing desperate.

"I-I was just following orders! This was all Fang Guo's plan—I was just a pawn! Listen to me!"

He turned, scrambling backward, stumbling over shattered stone as he screamed, "FANG GUO SET THIS UP! I WAS USED!"

He didn't want to die. Not like this. Not before proving himself. So he screamed as loud as he can.

But Fang Yuan's hand didn't retreat.

He followed slowly, one footstep at a time, as if giving his uncle a chance to run but never truly letting him go.

And then…

The smile having never left Fang Yuan's face, he whispered in his ears:

"It's already too late."

He tapped.

CRACK.

The sound was subtle.

The result… was not.

Fang Wei's upper body vanished in a red mist... gone, torn apart by the sheer force of condensed Nascent Soul energy.

Blood and bone exploded like fireworks across the courtyard. All that remained were his legs, still trembling, still upright.

Standing still.

The silence that followed was chilling.

Fang Yuan walked forward casually, brushing dust from his sleeve.

He glanced at the legs and chuckled. "Hm. Does this count as him still standing? Look at that… he didn't give up. Even in death. Something we can learn, ain't that right?"

No one laughed.

The elders of the Fang Family sat frozen in place, their faces pale as ash.

The air was thick with the iron scent of blood.

The earlier jeers, the smug smiles, the scorn, all of it had vanished.

What remained… was fear.

True, bone-deep, paralyzing fear.

Someone finally whispered it aloud, trembling:

"Nascent Soul realm…"

Another elder stood shakily. "That wasn't half-step. That's… he's… actually… nascent…"

Fang Guo's lips moved, but no words came out. His knees nearly buckled.

His mind was still trying to process what had just happened.

He wasn't bluffing.

He never was.

Fang Yuan turned toward the silent crowd and smiled once more.

But to those watching, that smile was no longer elegant.

It was terrifying.

Fang Yuan then turned toward the Crown Prince and offered a warm, gracious smile.

"Oh, Your Highness. Pardon the poor hospitality; it's been a rather eventful evening, don't you think so?"

He raised his hand casually.

"Servants, serve the food, a banquet can't go on with a hungry stomach."

The tension began to slowly dissipate from the pavilion, but the fear in many hearts lingered like an aftertaste.

Fang Yuan then turned his gaze to the group of Fang family elders, those who had prepared for rebellion, those who had silently supported Fang Wei, believing him the rightful heir.

He walked toward them with an easy pace, yet his presence pressed down on them like a mountain.

"You are all hereby banished," he said calmly. "You will leave by dawn."

His voice remained polite, but it was final.

"The women may choose between whether to leave with you, or leave you with the children. I will not interfere."

A few opened their mouths, but the words died in their throats.

There was no point in begging. Being allowed to walk away alive was mercy enough.

Fang Guo, face tight with humiliation, lowered his head and gave a stiff, formal bow. Then, without another word, he turned and walked away.

Several elders followed, those whose ambitions had been tied to Fang Wei's.

The only ones who remained were those who had stayed neutral… and those who had placed their faith in Fang Yuan.

Among them, Elder Fang Chen looked the most delighted.

He was already cradling Fang Mei in his arms, gently rocking her as he approached.

"Ahh, little Yuan!" he beamed, eyes wet with emotion. "When did you reach Nascent Soul realm? This is… this is such wonderful news for our clan!"

Fang Yuan laughed softly, the earlier chill in his demeanor melting away.

"Uncle Chen, take care of Fang Mei first. She needs you more than I do right now."

Elder Chen nodded, his expression softening as he looked at the unconscious girl in his arms.

Aunt Jingyi stepped forward next, her usual teasing smirk softened by the gravity of the moment. She offered her congratulations quietly, respectfully.

She didn't speak much in front of the crowd—no doubt choosing to hold back her usual jabs—but she didn't forget to flash Fang Yuan a playful wink before gently taking Fang Mei from her brother's arms.

"Brother," she said to Fang Chen, "Fang Mei will be safe with me."

Her tone was firm, almost maternal, but Fang Chen gave her a cautious glare as if unsure whether to trust her or guard Fang Mei from further harm.

She only rolled her eyes and walked off with the girl in her arms.

Meanwhile, Fang Yuan made his way back to the main seat and sat down, folding his hands calmly as the banquet resumed.

One by one, the heads of the Four Great Families came forward.

Their pride swallowed, their hands trembling ever so slightly, they raised their cups to toast the new; undeniable supreme power in Coldwind City.

There was no more argument.

No more power struggle.

A Nascent Soul cultivator was not a rival. He was a ruler.

Especially in a city where peak golden core realm masters used to rule supreme.

And now, Coldwind City no longer had five great families in balance.

It had one dragon…

…and four tamed beasts.

Fang Yuan was all smiles now.

With his overwhelming victory and unshakable display of power, he had firmly established himself as the absolute ruler of Coldwind City.

There were no challengers left, only submission and silence.

True, the Imperial Family could take action against him.

But they would need a just cause.

And greed over a mere Spirit Pond wasn't one.

Even the Empire needed excuses to justify war.

Above, Crown Prince Lukas von Avetide prepared to take his leave.

He descended the pavilion steps with Teacher Ian beside him, ready to offer a respectful nod toward Fang Yuan.

But just then, movement stirred at the edge of the courtyard.

A new group entered through the front gate—dressed in official robes, their banners high.

Gasps echoed across the crowd.

"Isn't that… the Alchemist Association's flag?"

"What are they doing here?"

"Did the Fang Family cause trouble? Or did trouble find them?"

Speculation rippled like wildfire.

Even the Crown Prince, who had been mid-step, paused and turned slightly—interested, amused.

"Well," he murmured to Ian, "perhaps the night isn't over."

The entourage came to a halt before the grand platform.

Their leader, a silver-robed elder with the association's sigil emblazoned across her huge chest, stepped forward and bowed deeply toward Fang Yuan.

Her voice rang out, clear and urgent:

"Clan Head Fang Yuan… please help us. The Alchemist Association requests your aid!"