The Reincarnated Villain Can Break the Fourth Wall!

Bai Yujian's eyes narrowed to slits sharper than her blade. Her lips curved into a smile so wicked it could peel the skin off a demon's face.

"Oh? Is that so…?"

ZIIIIIIINGGGG!

The heavens didn't wait for anyone's opinion.

The sky tore apart like cheap paper under a cleaver, light exploding from the gash like the universe had a grudge. And then it appeared.

Not a sword.

A goddamn monstrosity.

The blade stretched so far it might as well have been a second horizon, its edge gleaming with enough malice to split reality in half. Mountains? Meh. They'd be kindling. Warlord's palace? Just a crumb in its shadow.

The battlefield reflected faintly in its surface, like it didn't even care about the ants beneath it.

Zhao Feng's knees buckled, rattling like an old man's dentures in a hurricane.

"Holy… sun…" His voice cracked like a chicken finding out it was dinner.

Above that colossal slab of death, tens of thousands of swords popped into existence, shining like celestial fireflies with a bad attitude. Zing~ Zing~ They buzzed like angry hornets, each blade singing its intent to ruin someone's day.

Each one was six feet tall. The perfect size for digging six-foot-deep graves.

The pirates froze faster than dumplings in the freezer.

One scrawny bastard with a face paler than tofu coughed, trying to laugh. "Wha—what the fuck… is this?"

A soft, ethereal voice echoed through the wasteland, calm as a lake before a tsunami.

"Eternal Sword Rain."

The first sword fell.

BOOM!

The ground didn't just shake—it threw a tantrum. Sand, blood, and god-knows-what else erupted in a blinding plume as the blade hit, reducing a whole pirate squad to red mist.

And then it began.

FWOOOSH! FWOOOSH!

The sky unloaded, swords raining down like the heavens had decided: "Screw it, let's delete them."

Each blade slammed into the ground with the force of a pissed-off comet, skewering pirates like kebabs at a bad barbecue. Screams ripped through the battlefield as bodies were split, squashed, or pinned like sad little bugs on display.

The tofu-faced pirate's voice cracked like a chicken getting stuffed in a stew. "That's not a blade! That's a—a celestial punishment with delusions of grandeur!" He stumbled backward, clutching his chest. "Who even brings a weapon big enough to slice reality to a pirate raid?! I just wanted to loot some grain! — ACK!"

A sword silenced him, splitting him clean in two.

"NO! Nope, nope, nope!" Barked a burly pirate who looked like he bench-pressed cows. He threw his sword to the ground and raised his hands. "I surrender! I'll become a farmer! I'll—" FWOOOSH. A sword bigger than his dreams crashed down and turned him into ground beef.

Another pirate, barely able to hold his sword, dropped it and screamed, "I'M TOO GOOD-LOOKING TO DIE!" His face hit the dirt right before a blade slammed into him with a sickening splurch.

Another one flung himself face-first into the sand. "If I bury myself, they can't hit me! Genius! Absolute—" Smash! A blade bigger than his life expectancy turned his brilliant plan into a smoking crater.

"Mercy!" shouted a skinny fellow with wild eyes, chucking his blade away like it was cursed. "I'll be a monk! I swear on my great-grandma's ashes—ACK!" A blade sliced clean through him, leaving a faint scorch mark where he stood, shaped like a thumbs-down.

But the pièce de résistance?

One particularly dramatic pirate climbed onto a rock and shouted at the heavens: "I AM IMMORTAL!" He spread his arms wide, a crazed grin plastered on his face. For a split second, it seemed like he believed it too. That was, until three swords slammed into him at once, pinning him like an ugly coat rack.

Lei Shoushan's face twisted like someone had shoved a lemon down his throat. He spun toward Zhao Feng, eyes blazing with fury.

"This is your fault, you brainless turd! I told you not to antagonize her!

"I DIDN'T SAY ANYTHING!" Zhao Feng yelped, trying to shield himself with his sleeve like that would help. "Blame these filthy pirates!"

Lei Shoushan sneered, stabbing a finger at Zhao Feng. "Shut up, you spineless worm. You're the kind of fool who farts in the wind and blames the weather. If we live, I'm going to—"

CRUNCH.

The swords weren't here to talk poetry.

A blade the size of a small house speared Lei Shoushan straight through the chest, cutting him off mid-threat. As he staggered, blood pouring from his mouth, he croaked, "I die… a hero…"

"WHAT HERO?!" Zhao Feng cackled, his laugh high-pitched and nervous as his flying Lotus shot away at full speed. "YOU DIED SCREAMING AT ME!"

He tried to escape, but his luck was as bad as his speed—which is to say, nonexistent. Tripping over a corpse, he barely managed to dodge one blade before another came down, lopping his leg off cleanly.

"ARGHH!"

____

Above the wasteland, Bai Yujian floated like a goddess who'd had enough of mortals and their bullshit. Her expression? Not even a twitch.

The pirates?

Oh, they died. Messily. Screaming, begging, and crying like toddlers who'd lost their candy. Their bodies piled up in heaps, staining the black sand red.

As for the cultivators who'd smugly stepped back earlier? Yeah, they ran.

They ran like their asses were on fire, learning firsthand what it felt like to have the heavens decide your life was a mistake.

"Fucking hell…" one of them muttered, his voice shaking as he bolted like a scared rabbit. "This is worse than facing a Warlord's undead general!"

Bai Yujian didn't bother chasing. She didn't need to.

Her cold gaze swept over the bloody battlefield, calculating and calm.

"Break their spirits first," she murmured, voice soft enough to send shivers down anyone's spine. "Leave a few alive to talk. Then take what you need."

Mercy?

For pirates?

Not in this lifetime. Not in any.

But as the blood kept pooling—seriously, it was starting to look like someone overturned a barrel of red paint—Bai Yujian realized she had a problem. She had skewered every last screaming bastard, and yet thousands of swords still hovered above, all shiny and ready to strike.

She sighed, one hand lazily brushing a stray hair from her face. "Maybe I should've just thrown one sword," she muttered. "Oh well."

"..."

"..."

"..."

The battlefield seemed to roll its eyes at her words, now eerily quiet save for the crackle of burning corpses and the occasional squelch of someone stepping in guts.

But elsewhere? Oh, shit was brewing. No swords, no screaming, just an array was lighting up—buzzing, crackling, and ready to throw hands in the loudest, flashiest way possible.

____

Back in the Warlord's Palace!

[Starfall Obliteration Array]

SWOOSH!

The array lit up like the gods had just dumped a cauldron of molten gold onto the ground. Star-shaped patterns spiraled out, blazing and endless, carving into the stone floor like the claws of a lover dragging across bare skin.

CRACK!

The power surged, splitting a massive stone pillar like a toothpick caught in a tantrum.

BOOM!

The explosion sent shards flying in all directions, a deadly storm of debris. The air sizzled with heat, the taste of destruction sharp on the tongue.

Zhu Qing stood in the middle of it all, untouchable. Not a speck of dust dared stain her pristine white robe. She was a storm in human form, calm yet blazing with strength. Her lips curved in that damned sharp smile that could probably kill someone at twenty paces.

Her eyes darted to Su Xiaobai, mischief glinting in their depths.

See that, Little Villain? her gaze seemed to taunt. This is power. Watch closely and take notes, because you'll never reach this level.

Su Xiaobai nodded. He wasn't dumb enough to argue. After all, the earlier kiss? Yeah, no. That didn't happen. It had been wiped from history, scrubbed from the records of heaven and earth.

…Mostly.

His gaze flicked to the floor, refusing to meet hers. Because despite his best efforts, the memory clawed at the edges of his mind like a feral beast. He could still feel her, every soft, perfect—

FOCUS.

He shook his head, banishing the thought. Now wasn't the time to mentally throw himself into a pit of regrets (or revisit the image of her lips for the thousandth time).