The Reincarnated Villain Can Break the Fourth Wall!-Chapter 260: Splitting Rivers!

Crossing it would be... a waste of lives.

Su Yiran looked up—expression grim, eyes sharp.

She did not plead, simply turned her grim eyes to Su Xiaobai.

Waiting.

The whole group looked at him, in fact.

Even the crocodiles were probably waiting.

If he said "charge," it would become a mass graveyard before sunset.

Well? Brave leader. Evil Emperor. Daddy of Sun Liang. What now? Because one thing was clear: If this bastard told them to cross...painfully.

Everyone turned their eyes back toward the river.

The crocodile demons were still there, they hadn't moved, they just floated—calm, confident, smiling.

Not the grin of beasts. No, this was worse.

The grin of apex predators who knew they didn't need to chase, because someone would always come to die, their aura rolled like rotting thunder across the bank, Spirit Severing Realm, minimum.

And that wasn't the worst part.

They weren't hungry, they were waiting, like they'd seen this dance before. Like they'd eaten braver fools and still had room for dessert.

Su Xiaobai narrowed his eyes at the sky.

"Option B: fly?"

The clouds rumbled.

"SHHKKK!"

Dozens of winged beasts screeched in response, their blood-colored wings glowing as they circled. Predators, dozens, maybe hundred, eyes glowing like burning coals.

Even Beibei, Su Xiaobai's ten-meter crane, stepped back, feathers ruffling in caution.

Above them: Death.

Below them: Death.

Around them: Death.

Somewhere nearby, an aura—a Great Ascension beast, so large its breathing changed the air pressure.

If you sneezed wrong, it might eat you on reflex.

Now it made sense.

Why the Hunters—those soul-eating fiends—had avoided this place entirely.

Even they knew better.

Not even bloodlust survived crocodiles that throw scales like flying swords.

Su Xiaobai clicked his tongue.

"So. Flying's suicide, swimming's death, and bridges summon murder-lizards. Wonderful."

Long Yushen, arms folded behind his back, stepped forward calmly. "We'll have to go around."

Su Xiaobai scowled like someone had suggested wearing pants to a harem meeting. "We don't do 'around.' We penetrate through."

Wen Luli finally spoke, voice dry, arms crossed under her ample chest like she was tired of everyone's existence. "And how, oh mighty Emperor, do you plan to penetrate through crocodiles that fling their scales like celestial-grade throwing daggers?"

Su Xiaobai turned, "Luli, dear," he said smoothly, "if I had a spirit stone every time a woman questioned my penetration skills, I'd be living in a palace with rotating wives."

BOOM.

His sword aura exploded.

A wave of pressure slammed into her like a mountain collapse. Wen Luli instinctively activated her petrification technique—arms turning to jade stone—yet still skidded backward ten full paces, boots tearing the dirt, blood trailing from her lips.

Everyone froze.

The Ming Twins immediately darted to her side, wind swirling protectively. Delicate girls, beautiful, and talented—but they weren't warriors.

They were survivors. fɾeewebnoveℓ.co๓

Su Xiaobai looked them over coldly.

Did he care?

Not at all.

He had no shortage of women.

No need to groom anyone from enemy sects.

He only wanted one thing:

Use.

He swept his gaze across the group.

Zhou Ping. Ranran. Wen Luli. Long Yushen. The twins. Five others. Most of them silent, trembling—deadweight.

Twelve total, including himself.

"Too many mouths," he muttered.

And then—

He walked toward the first one—a middle-aged cultivator in a torn brown robe, eyes bloodshot with exhaustion.

"W-Wait! I have money—!"

Splash.

Too late.

A shove, into the river.

"NO—!!"

The man screamed, flailing. "Please! I'm the treasurer of the Blackwind Sect! I can give you—give you seven vaults! Spirit stones! Women! Cultivation pills—!"

CHOMP.

One crocodile surged, jaws wide.

A crunch.

Then silence.

Second one.

A younger man, hair disheveled, crawling backward. "P-Please! My fiancée—she's the daughter of the Frostblade Patriarch! I'll give her to you—marry her! I'll make her serve you forever! Just spare me—!"

Su Xiaobai didn't respond.

Just picked him up by the collar.

Splash.

"AHHHHHHHH—!"

Chomp.

Puchi—Blood sprayed.

Third.

The next man fell to his knees, weeping. "I-I was forced to enter this tournament. I'm just a merchant's son. Please, I can give you—gold! Land! I'll work as your servant! Clean your feet with my tongue! Anything! PLEASE!"

Su Xiaobai stared at him, expressionless, then lifted his boot.

... CRACK.

Stepped on his face.

Then tossed him over, the splash was almost peaceful this time.

But not what followed.

"NONONO—HELP—HELP—!"

"I DON'T WANT TO—"

CHOMP.

Gone.

The last two were shaking so badly they couldn't even beg.

One tried to run.

Beibei casually snapped her beak once.

Lightning.

ZAP—BOOM!

His body exploded in mid-step.

The other turned to Su Xiaobai, sobbing. "Y-You don't have to do this! Y-You've got women, power, status—what more do you want?!"

Su Xiaobai stared at him flatly, voice cold and final.

"I want fewer liabilities."

Splash.

The crocodiles didn't even react anymore, they were full. But still watching, just in case more snacks came tumbling in.

One swallow each.

No honour.

Just wet, brutal death.

Behind Su Xiaobai, the remaining six stood frozen. He turned back, casually brushing dirt from his sleeves.

His face was splattered with a fine mist of red blood.

He didn't wipe it off.

It made him look worse.

More real.

More monster.

"Well," he said brightly, like he'd just reorganized his pantry. "Now we're only seven. Much more manageable."

No one spoke.

Ranran's fingers clenched faintly.

Long Yushen didn't even try to hide the clench in his jaw.

They had all just witnessed something.

Something simple.

Something final.

Su Xiaobai wasn't bluffing.

He didn't tolerate waste.

And he would kill them all without blinking.

This wasn't a journey anymore.

It was a trial by monster.

And the monster... was walking beside them.

"I will split the river—" Su Xiaobai cracked his neck with a pop, eyes gleaming with disdain, "—and make way."

He stepped forward casually, like someone about to take a morning piss, not challenge the laws of nature.

"The most you'll get is two minutes," he added lazily. "Block the beasts. Cross the path. Try to run—" He smiled faintly. "—and I'll I'll carve your spine to the sky instead of the river."

"Huh???"

Everyone stared.

Had they heard right?

Split the river?

What the hell was he talking about?

But before doubt could gather, the world began to shake.

Wuuummmm—!

A low hum resonated across the water, then deep into their bones. The wind screeched like a beast retreating. Leaves scattered like fleeing insects.

WHOOSH!

A dark windy vortex formed beneath Su Xiaobai's feet.

Dark Qi erupted from the surroundings—rushing toward him, howling like lost souls. The very elemental shadows were being sucked from rocks, trees, the soil itself—swallowed by a singularity of power beneath his feet.

He rose.

Lifted into the air, not by wings or flight talisman, but by sheer force of dark spiritual gravity.

The river trembled beneath him like a beast sensing a higher predator.

On his wrist—click—a binding seal burst open.

A blade took form.

Not summoned... Revealed.

Gu Ren —Obsidian-black.

Sharp as karmic sin.

Not forged, born.

"A swordsman…?" someone whispered, as if saying it too loud would offend the sky.

Even Long Yushen—Azure Dragon Clan's prodigy—felt his feets shaken.

They had all assumed Su Xiaobai to be a dark cultivator. A villain. A lunatic.

But this?

Su Yiran's gaze narrowed. She narrowed her eyes, holding her veil down with one hand, her other gripping the hilt at her waist unconsciously.

"He can't sever a river that wide… even at Spirit Severing Realm... it's not possible—"

Her own sword spirit stirred within her dantian, reacting.

Her instincts screamed: Witness this.

She didn't believe it.

Could anyone sever a river that wide?

Even she, a blade-user, knew the limits.

Sword Qi could pierce water.

Sword Intent could part waves.

But an entire river?

This storm… it wasn't just spiritual pressure.

It was intent.

Killing intent. Sword intent. Heaven-defying, logic-crushing, soul-burning madness.

Then, the storm changed.

No longer wind. No longer chaotic.

It was structured.

Controlled.

Sword intent channeled around Su Xiaobai's blade, forming sharp white sigils that buzzed with demonic rhythm.

His voice echoed through the sky, quiet—but heard in every soul present.

"Watch closely."

Then—BOOM.

He swung.

Not downward.

Not with rage.

He simply drew the blade horizontally, like slicing through a dream—

And the river screamed.