The Reincarnated Villain Can Break the Fourth Wall!

"This city..." Lan Tian muttered, voice grim and shaking. "...It's already dead."

Before them, the gates stood yawning open.

And from the mist, they came.

At first it was one.

Then a handful, then a hundred, then thousands. The ghouls spilled forth like a river of forgotten history.

But these weren't mindless beasts. No. They were worn echoes of a once-glorious civilization.

Each ghoul wore robes, Not the sleek, battle-hardened gear of modern cultivators.

But ancient ceremonial garb: flowing white and gold silks, embroidered with symbols of Light.

Long-forgotten dynasties had crafted those robes.

Robes now torn, rotting, soaked in old blood and corruption.

Armor pieces fit loosely from their skeletal frames—silver filigree dulled into black grime.

Rust ate at what were once divine artifacts.

Their faces were worse.

Sunken.

Eyes missing, or replaced with glowing hollows leaking faint, cursed light.

Mouths slack, some sewn shut with spiritual threads long broken.

Hands twisted like dead branches—yet still clutching weapons of old: cracked swords, shattered scepters, broken relics.

They moved with ritualistic jerks—like puppets pulled by unseen, uncaring gods.

The corruption was so old it felt sacred.

As if death itself had been fossilized here.

"What you're seeing..." Lan Tian's voice cracked. "Those were the Elders of my clan. Priests, saints, generals of the Light."

He bowed his head.

Eyes shimmering with fury and grief.

"Don't use Light Qi," he said. "It will call them. They still hunger for the Light they once lost."

"Uh..."

Su Xiaobai interrupted, "Yeah...I don't think they need any more encouragement."

He pointed casually.

The ghouls had already started moving.

Not running, just walking.

... Slow.

Inevitable.

"How could it be?!" Lan Tian gasped. Desperate, he stepped forward. "Ancestors! Hear me!

I have come to redeem you!"

His voice echoed into the mist.

The ghouls?

Did not hear, did not stop.

They kept coming.

"Sigh." Su Xiaobai rubbed his forehead. "This is what happens when you put too many points into faith."

He reached into his ring.

And from the mist, like a magician pulling out death itself—

Came his army.

Yi Muqing emerged first.

Yinyin floated silently, her black veil fluttering around her, radiating a cold hunger that even the ghouls hesitated at.

Boneclaw Dragon snapped its jaws, empty eye sockets burning with nether flame.

Jin Yuhuang, the Golden Winged Reaper, unfolded his massive wings, which glew with traces of corrupted holy energy.

Ye Cuilian, the panther, her dark fur rippling like oil under sunlight.

Mo Jingzhu, the Widow of the Abyss, dragging a writhing mass of black spider legs.

The generals didn't even need orders.

They smelled the Death Qi.

They smiled.

Somewhere deep in their hollowed souls—

They rejoiced.

This was a banquet.

"They're saturated with Death Qi,"

Su Xiaobai said, voice mild as he cracked his knuckles. "Should be good for your cultivation. Knock yourselves out."

And then—

They charged.

The clash was a beautiful nightmare.

Mist and blood.

Ancient robes shredding apart.

Spiritual sigils burning dim and dying as death devoured them.

The generals ripped into the ghoul-tide with hunger, carving a narrow, brutal road forward.

"We can't kill them all," Ku Rong growled, checking the wrappings on his fists. "Fight for your own lives."

And with a roar, he plunged into the battle, fists swinging like warhammers, smashing rotten skulls into mist.

The horde stretched endlessly.

The city stood ahead.

The dead marched endlessly.

And between it all, Ku Rong was right.

No matter how strong Su Xiaobai's undead were, the ghouls numbered in the tens of thousands.

It would be impossible to destroy them all.

But that wasn't the point.

The generals would punch a path open, carve out a bloody road through the horde, long enough for Su Xiaobai and the others to charge into the heart of the dead city.

As for the ghouls that leaked through the cracks?

That was on them.

No rescue.

Only their own strength.

"Run to the city center!" Su Xiaobai's voice echoed, "Find the City Lord's residence—block the doors from the inside! The structure should be strong enough to hold off the ghouls!"

They ran.

Boots slapping against bloodstained stones.

As they sprinted, through broken streets and collapsing pillars, Deng Lei gasped, swinging his massive hammer to crush a ghoul's skull.

"What about... THEM?!"

He threw a glance back.

At the seven monsters Su Xiaobai had unleashed—Still fighting.

Still ripping.

Still laughing in their undead way.

"Don't mind them," Su Xiaobai said casually, like he was recommending a side dish. "They're already dead. Can't be killed twice."

The others exchanged glances full of very real doubt, but wisely chose to keep moving.

At the front:

Deng Lei hammered through the horde with raw brute force.

Lan Tian, snapping out of his earlier emotional spiral, covered the flanks—sweeping his cane like a desperate tide.

At the rear:

Yu Feng and Su Xiaobai guarded the escape path.

As they moved—

Su Xiaobai sidled a little closer to Yu Feng, flicking a ghoul off his sleeve like it was an annoying fly.

"Hey," he muttered. "Can you sense the Dark Tab yet?"

He'd been meaning to ask.

Yu Feng was sharper with dark Qi than even he was.

Yu Feng smashed a ghoul's head with a dull thunk, wiped her hand, and nodded faintly.

Then — CRACK.

The ground abruptly shook under their feet.

A hairline fracture...Then a spiderweb of fissures, then, the entire street collapsed.

"HUH?!"

Both Su Xiaobai and Yu Feng locked eyes mid-fall.

As if both silently screaming:

"Are you kidding me?!"

But gravity didn't care.

They dropped.

Spinning into darkness.

The world a whirlpool of falling stones and shattered echoes.

"How the hell did that happen?!"

Su Xiaobai thought briefly.

Right.

Tens of thousands of years of no maintenance.

Plus a few metric tons of ghoul battle damage.

Reasonable.

He instinctively reached for his Qi.

And found—

Nothing.

No Qi flow.

No spiritual energy.

No backup.

No spatial ring access.

"Good news!" Su Xiaobai thought sarcastically as he tumbled."I'm officially useless!"

He still had his body reinforcement, but that was it.

His [Niwan Palace]?

Oh right.

He emptied it to make a Yin Reservoir project last month.

Because, you know.

"Brilliant choices, past me. Truly inspiring."

The only hope?

Land without dying.

... Preferably.

A couple of minutes later!

BANG!

The impact cracked through his bones like thunder, vision blurred, pain stabbed through every muscle.

His body, reinforced as it was, screamed in agony.

He tasted blood.

A lot of blood.

Somewhere nearby, there was another crash.

And the faint scream of Yu Feng, echoing against the deep walls.

Su Xiaobai's brain tried to log it.

Tried to care.

Failed.

Because when your soul is halfway out of your body, emotional processing takes a backseat.

And then... Darkness.