Turns Out, I’m In A Villain Clan!

Chapter 140: The Flame Beyond the Walls

The Inner City of Ironmist stood in stark contrast to the chaos beyond its borders.

Where the Outer and Middle City had been reduced to ash, blood, and crumbling ruins, the Inner City still gleamed—its walls reinforced with powerful formations.

Array formations shimmered faintly across the skies, forming a dome-like barrier that had withstood the onslaught of demonic beasts for nearly a week now.

Life inside the Inner City hadn’t changed at all—they were still the same arrogant nobles, drinking and partying while the people outside died without a second thought.

The so-called defenders of the Inner City weren’t much better—most were cowards who’d fled the Outer and Middle City the moment things turned dire.

But because of their higher status or better connections, they were allowed through the gates while the commoners were left to die.

Now they wore armor and patrolled the walls, pretending to be heroes.

And at the center of it all, in the highest tower of the Vermilion Palace, was the Princess.

She stood barefoot on a jade balcony, clad in flowing red silk robes.

Barely sixteen, with delicate features and sharp phoenix eyes, she looked more like a pampered noble daughter than the ruler of a nation.

A breeze stirred her robes, and she frowned as she looked toward the east—where the Outer City still smoldered beyond the walls.

Behind her, the grand hall echoed with footsteps as one of her ministers had arrived.

“Your Majesty!”

Minister Duan said, bowing low.

Although he seemed to show respect to the Princess, there was a smirk beneath his polite manner.

The Princess did not turn around.

Her hands gripped the jade railing tightly, knuckles pale, her eyes still fixed on the horizon where the black smoke curled like mourning banners into the sky.

That was where the Outer City once stood—homes, markets, shrines—now reduced to charred wreckage.

“…Minister Duan,” she said softly, her voice barely carried by the wind. “Are we sure? That there’s nothing left out there?”

Minister Duan’s footsteps paused behind her.

“We cannot say for certain,” Duan said, his tone laced with practiced diplomacy.

“But the likelihood is low, Your Majesty. Our scouts reported that almost everything beyond the wall has been destroyed by the Demonic Beasts. The Outer Wall has fallen. The Middle City is compromised. We must assume the worst.”

She finally turned, eyes wide with something rawer than fear—guilt.

“There were people still out there,” she said. “Families who couldn’t reach the gates in time. Soldiers. Children.”

Minister Duan’s bow deepened, but the smirk tugging at his lips never quite vanished.

(Of course! Do you think we can afford to bring everyone into the Inner City? Let those useless fools die for our greater cause.)

“And yet… would you send more lives to their deaths? We barely held the Inner Wall during the last wave. The barrier formations are stretched thin. If the beasts breach the Inner City—”

“Enough!”

She whispered, her fingers trembling at her sides.

“I know that. I know!”

(Then stop talking about going to rescue them. It’s already been a week since those demonic beasts began their attack.)

She walked past him into the hall, her bare feet nearly silent against the polished floor.

The ministers stood at attention in a half-circle around the throne dais, all eyes falling on her slight frame.

She looked too young.

Most of the decisions were made by Ministers, and the Princess was more of a figurehead than a true ruler.

“I don’t want to abandon them,” she said quietly, looking not at the ministers, but at the ground.

“But if I send troops and the barrier falls… then everyone in the Inner City will die too.”

A thick silence settled. No one offered advice.

Because they were all waiting. Watching. Calculating.

She could feel it—that suffocating sense of powerlessness.

That silent judgment from people twice her age. The Inner City walls were strong, but inside, politics still thrived like rot beneath the floorboards.

Even in a crisis like this, everyone was looking to profit and line their own pockets. No one was thinking about the city that had been razed to the ground.

Well, those rich enough could surely afford to escape to another city and live peacefully.

But there were many who couldn’t. And would those people care about others? Not a chance!

“Is the Vermilion Flame Sect still not responding to our request?”

The Princess asked with a bit of hope. If that powerful sect got involved, they could surely save them from this nightmare or at least she thought.

But all the messages she had sent were met with silence.

“There is still no reply.”

Minister Duan answered, but he knew better.

(What reply would there be when we didn’t send any request?)

Minister Duan and the others who were responsible hadn’t sent the request—so of course no help would come.

And the reason?

(We’d have to give away all our treasures to receive aid on that scale. Why empty our coffers just to save a few useless people?)

The Princess’s vision blurred slightly.

In this hellish place, she couldn’t see any solution.

(Can I only watch as the city my parents left behind gets destroyed?)

A thousand voices screamed in her mind: the cries of her people, the dying wails of soldiers, the silence of once-bustling streets now buried beneath rubble and bone.

She raised her head.

“Send out a search team,” she said.

Minister Duan stiffened.

“Your Majesty—”

“The fastest ones we have. Tell them to check the situation in the Middle City, and fall back at the first sign of danger.”

Duan’s lips thinned, but he bowed.

“As you command!”

And as the hall slowly emptied, the Princess returned to her balcony. The wind felt colder now.

She looked to the east once more.

And wondered—when did being a ruler mean choosing who got to live and who had to die?

But no answer came.

***

Later in the Corridor

“She’s still not giving up on that destroyed Outer City,” Minister Duan complained.

“Tsk, tsk. She’s still just a child. Just feed her a few sweet words and deceive her.”

Minister Ren scoffed.

“She even wants to send scouts to check the Middle and Outer City. Should we bother?”

Minister Duan causally asked.

“Send a few incompetent ones to fulfill her wish. She might come to her senses when they bring back news of complete destruction.”

Minister Ren replied with a sneer.

“But is the Middle City really destroyed? There might still be survivors,”

Minister Duan said doubtfully.

“They’re just mortals, not cultivators. Without food and water for a week, they should all be dead by now. We should be focusing on preparations—if those demonic beasts set their eyes on the Inner City next, we’re doomed.”

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