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I Truly Am The Villian

Xu Zimei found himself reborn, carrying with him all the heaven-shaking cultivation and memories from his previous life. But something was off about the script. Isn’t reincarnation always the protagonist’s theme? However, I was cast as the villain! This is the story of a villain's step-by-step journey to becoming the Demon King. —————————— In an era of great strife, where mystical arts resonated! An elder of the True Martial Holy Sect sat at the Willow Bank River Fishing Platform when suddenly he heard the dragon’s roar. Three thousand carps knocked at the gate of life, transforming into the Measureless Golden Dragon, soaring through the firmament, graceful as a startling swan! There were strongmen who measured the heavens and earth with their strides, monks who sat in meditation in temples for three thousand years, achieving sudden enlightenment—auspicious clouds descended, and all laws of magic cheered in chorus. Blood moons darkened the night, rainbows cut through the daylight. There was a swordsman with a wooden sword on his back who, with a turn and a raise of his hand, shattered thousands of miles of rivers and mountains. In the south of the city, a ragged beggar with a broken willow twig dared to assault the Holy Court of a sect that boasted three emperors.

The history of love is full of regrets. · Eastern
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238 Chs

Chapter 11: The Protagonist Appears

Translator: 549690339

Qingyang Village was located at the eastern edge of the Extreme West Region, within the vast mountains and rivers governed by the True Martial Holy Sect.

As the sun rose in the east and the sky began to brighten, a large group of youngsters got up early. Led by the strongest person in the village, Coach Mo, they began their morning physical training on the square in front of the village.

Coach Mo was the strongest person in Qingyang Village and also the only Vein Practitioner at the ninth layer of the Spirit Vein Realm in the village.

He had a broad back and a sturdy waist, with muscles bulging high on his body. He wore a black tank top, and his hair was the explosive kind, all messy on top of his head.

At this moment, he stood in front of these youngsters and said loudly, "You must understand that you are not the offspring of big families. You don't have superior Cultivation Techniques, nor do you start with the aid of various Pills.

The only thing you can rely on is yourselves, and the only thing you can do is to work hard.

Apart from hard work, it's still hard work. A strong person is made of ninety-nine percent effort and one percent talent. Do you understand?"

"Understood," all the youngsters shouted in unison. At this moment, they were squatting in horse stance, their little cheeks flushed red, but their eyes were filled with hope and desire for the future and the Martial Path.

......

In the last row of these youngsters, there was also a boy who looked much frailer than the others.

At this moment, the boy was gritting his teeth, his face pale, persisting in holding the horse stance, unwilling to give up easily.

The boy wore a coarse white garment patched up with stitches, featuring a handsome face that, from the side, somewhat resembled arched eyebrows and starry eyes.

His gaze was determined, showing a stubbornness not commonly seen in his peers.

Next to this boy stood a girl with long hair cascading down her back, her skin fairer than snow, with red lips and white teeth, and a high-bridged nose.

Especially her eyes, which were like a clear spring—so captivating that they could make all things pale in comparison.

Although the girl wore a cheap white shirt, it still could not hide her stunning appearance.

She was young yet already stood tall and graceful like a slim and delicate jade.

"Chu Yang brother, are you okay?" The girl, seeing the boy's stubborn perseverance, couldn't help but ask with concern.

"Xiao'er, don't worry, I'm fine," the boy named Chu Yang managed a forced smile and shook his head.

However, just as the boy's words fell, his body suddenly went limp and he collapsed to the ground.

"Chu Yang brother, take a rest for a while," the girl hurriedly helped Chu Yang and sat down with him under the big tree nearby.

At that moment, the youngsters in the square, upon seeing this scene, felt a sense of imbalanced envy in their hearts.

"I don't understand why Baili Xiao, with such good conditions, would take a fancy to a piece of trash like Chu Yang."

A youngster beside complained in a low voice.

After all, this girl named Baili Xiao was the goddess in the hearts of all the youngsters in Qingyang Village, but she only had eyes for Chu Yang and ignored other boys, treating them with extreme coldness.

"Exactly," another youngster joined in, "If she followed me, my family has several cows; we wouldn't have to worry about food and drink for a lifetime.

As for Chu Yang, he's been an orphan since childhood, surviving only on the charity of the villagers. Plus, he's always been a sick child, frail and weak, the epitome of a useless person."

The youngsters in the square suddenly broke into a cacophony of discussion, while Coach Mo beside frowned slightly, looking at the disorderly scene.

His voice contained an undertone of Spiritual Energy as he shouted loudly, "What are you all chattering about? Are you too relaxed? Later, everyone will run ten laps around the village for me."

After hearing Coach Mo's words, the youngsters in the square immediately quieted down, their faces filled with bitterness.

"Next, I will demonstrate a set of Fierce Tiger Fist for you. Make sure you watch carefully. This Fierce Tiger Fist is a Yellow Tier Vein Skill. I will only demonstrate it once," Coach Mo said proudly.

He was well aware that for these youngsters, who were just starting to walk the Martial Path, it was important not only to make them understand the hardship of martial cultivation but also to give them some hope and temptation in proper measure.

Under the astonished and curious gaze of all the youths, Coach Mo puffed out his chest and raised his head, his right hand clenched into a fist, with spiritual energy surging around him.

His entire presence seemed to morph into that of a fierce tiger, with a faint yellow glow enveloping his fist.

Then, with a light shout, he soared into the air and brutally struck the rock beside him.

With a "boom," the rock burst apart, dust flying everywhere.

Coach Mo let out a long breath, walked proudly to the front, and said, "Whoever among you is the first to complete the body tempering and advance to the Spirit Vein Realm, I will teach them this Fierce Tiger Fist."

Hearing this, the youths in the arena boiled with enthusiasm, their eyes blazing with a competitive fire.

......…

Just then, a youth pointed to the sky and said while looking up, "Coach Mo, there's someone flying in the sky."

"Stop messing around," Coach Mo gave the youth a glare. A vein practitioner capable of flight, that would have to be a powerhouse at the Empty Vein Realm at least.

When Coach Mo was young, he had served in Mysterious Yuan City; he was a patroller of the city's walls, intimidating in his days.

No matter where he went, those stall vendors who saw him would flee in panic, scared witless.

Well, a city patroller also had another nickname, urban management officer.

He had seen the world too, but even in Mysterious Yuan City, the strongest was only at the True Vein Realm.

The Empty Vein Realm was still a large tier away, an existence he had never seen in his life.

......

The youth said aggrievedly, "It's true, I'm not lying to you."

Coach Mo was about to reprimand the youth again when he suddenly felt a powerful pressure descending from the sky.

He quickly turned around, his scalp tingling.

A woman was seen slowly descending from the sky. This woman's aura was tumultuous, boundless in his perception, inscrutable.

"May I know the purpose of this honored guest's visit to our Qingyang Village?" Coach Mo hurriedly stepped forward to greet her.

"Is this Qingyang Village?" Xiao Yuexuan asked uncertainly.

"Yes, yes," Coach Mo quickly nodded.

"Then do you recognize a woman named Xiao Qingya?" Xiao Yuexuan's voice was cold, yet held a hint of hope.

"Xiao Qingya, that sounds vaguely familiar," Coach Mo pondered aloud.

"You should have an impression. She lived here decades ago," Xiao Yuexuan promptly added.

"Oh, I remember now," Coach Mo slapped his forehead, enlightened.

"Where is she?" Xiao Yuexuan asked anxiously.

"She's dead," Coach Mo said solemnly.

"Dead," Xiao Yuexuan was somewhat dazed, visibly trembling as she took a step back, her complexion pale, "How could she be dead!"

"Oh, right, she left behind a daughter," Coach Mo suddenly added.

"Can't you just say everything all at once?" Xiao Yuexuan glared at Coach Mo, her presence overwhelming like a torrent.