From Outcast to Overlord The Unyielding Heir (Leander Ashcroft) novel Chapter 405

Galen stared after them, his mind reeling. His entire face contorted in disbelief.

The power contained within that single claw made the Tai Chi Diagram he had used to ensnare Leander seem feeble by comparison.

It wasn't just a little stronger; it was on a completely different level, magnified tenfold.

Confronted with such an attack himself, he knew with chilling certainty what would happen. He would be cleaved in two without a moment's hesitation, his body carved into pieces.

"Impressive!"

A ferocious wind screamed around Leander as the Dragonclaw descended, cutting off every possible escape route.

Instead of fear, a spark of fierce excitement ignited in his gaze. With a sharp tug of one hand, he leveled his other palm and thrust it forward.

"Flamebreaker!"

A thunderous whoosh filled the air as a conflagration erupted from the golden dragon-claw imprint.

A colossal hand, wreathed in crimson fire, surged through the sky to meet the attack head-on.

The two colossal forces wrestled in mid-air, grinding against one another for what felt like an eternity.

Finally, the great golden claw began to falter.

It fractured, then shattered into nothingness, leaving only the brilliant, roaring flames victorious.

Leander stood astride the tide of fire like a war god clad in blazing armor.

The onlookers could only stare, their minds utterly blank.

Even Master Branson's usual composure broke, his face a mask of open astonishment that slowly melted into a deep, contemplative look.

"A true Iron Sovereign, indeed."

He brought his palms together in a calm motion, allowing his power to dissipate. He made no move to continue the fight.

Seeing this, Leander gave a casual curl of his fingers. The sea of fire snuffed out in an instant, and he regarded the master from across the space.

Master Branson studied him for a long moment, then offered a frank, respectful smile. "Sovereign Ashcroft, I am here at the behest of an old companion. He asked me to deliver a message to you.

"However, before today, I was not convinced you had reached our… level. I believed his judgment was misplaced.

"Now, I see I was profoundly mistaken."

Leander seemed largely indifferent, a faint, cool smile touching his lips. "An old friend sent you with a message for me? Who would that be?"

Master Branson's gaze grew sharp and intent. His smile vanished, replaced by a grave and solemn tone.

"The one who sent me," Master Branson continued, "is someone you have never met. But I am certain you know of him."

"Throughout the martial world of Astria, he is known as… the Dragon Emperor."

The moment that name left his lips, the air itself seemed to freeze.

Gareth, Darrow, Leif, and even the Grandmaster of Mount Martial, Galen—every face solidified in shock.

The title landed with the weight of a fallen monument, evoking the standard of an entire era.

A profound, heavy silence swallowed the great hall.

Leander slid a hand casually into his pocket, his gaze thoughtful for a fleeting moment.

"The Dragon Emperor? Astria's Dragon Emperor?"

He was not personally acquainted with the man, but the stories were impossible to avoid.

Even during his years traversing the world's most dangerous frontiers, tales of this legendary figure had always found him.

It was said his rise to prominence began in the final, waning years of the old monarchy.

The number of powerful masters he had defeated was beyond counting.

His martial prowess was the stuff of myth, capable of shaking the heavens and splitting the earth.

He had witnessed history unfold—the collapse of the old dynasty, the birth of the republic, liberation, and reform.

Through it all, his position at the absolute pinnacle of Astria's martial arts world had never wavered.

The depths of his strength were unknowable.

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