Four bursts of fire exploded in the sky above the Southern Shore, dazzling and brilliant. Though dusk was approaching and the world was cloaked in shadow, the heavens blazed crimson as a sea of flames rolled through the air.
"What terrifying power!"
Reginald and Gareth exchanged glances, their eyes wide with disbelief. Every move Leander made seemed effortless, almost casual, yet each step and every strike left another Transcendent Realm expert dead.
First, it had been the four Kindling Transcendents from the War God Sanctum; now, the four Ember Transcendents from the Arbitration Office had also burst apart into flames, dying in eerie unison. Throughout Astria's history of martial supremacy, no one had ever reached such a level.
"So, this is Leander's true strength?" Ethan whispered, his heart sinking with bitter defeat.
He had thought Leander's era was long over—that the once peerless prodigy who had dominated Highcliffe had already become a relic of history. Yet now, he realized that Leander stood taller than ever, his gaze reaching further than it had nine years ago.
"I knew it," Daphne murmured softly, her eyes shining with joy and emotion. "Even if you lost your martial power, nothing could ever bring you down. You can do anything you set your mind to."
Leander had once said he would stand at the pinnacle of his generation, becoming a guiding force for all others. And now, he had done it—more completely than anyone could have imagined. He had surpassed not only the younger generation but even veterans like Gareth and Reginald, leaving them far behind.
"That b*stard… Nine years apart, and he's become this strong?" Eira's bright eyes shimmered with awe.
Back then, Leander had already outshone every young talent in Highcliffe, but the gap had still been within sight.
Now, she and the others were still struggling to reach the Martial Sovereign Realm—barely able to stand against an Intermediate Martial Sovereign like Elkins, even when fighting together—while Leander was slaying Transcendents as easily as killing flies.
The distance between them was no longer just vast; it was unimaginable.
Tycen drew in a sharp breath, chills running through him as he recalled that night he had once dared to raise a hand against Leander. If Ethan and Daphne hadn't intervened at the time, what would have become of him?
Aurora stood frozen in place, her heart trembling. She had expected Leander to surprise her, but this was beyond surprise—it was shock.
Though she knew little about martial arts, she could still tell who stood above whom. Leander had appeared only moments ago, yet he had single-handedly crushed eight powerful opponents, fighting nine alone as easily as wind scattering leaves.
His fearless, unstoppable presence—his very bearing—made her heart race uncontrollably. This was what true greatness looked like. Compared to him, men like Tycen or Ethan seemed laughably insignificant, their brilliance dimmed into nothing.
The patriarchs of the other three major elite families were all stunned, their expressions complicated. They couldn't help but wonder what kind of training the Ashcrofts had put Leander through during those nine lost years.
Only Wesley stood motionless, his face pale with confusion.
Others might not know Leander's past, but he did—he knew every detail. Leander had been stripped of his martial power at ten and cast out of the Ashcroft family. If not for that, Wesley would never have stood before him and told him he wasn't worthy of Daphne.
But now, Leander's overwhelming, almost divine display shattered every doubt and every trace of contempt Wesley had ever held.
As he recalled the words he had once thrown at Leander, a shiver ran through his body. If even the Iron Sovereign—the man who stood unmatched under heaven—wasn't good enough for his daughter, then who in this world possibly could be?
…


With a sharp crack, Greed lashed out.
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