From Outcast to Overlord The Unyielding Heir (Leander Ashcroft) novel Chapter 289

Chapter 289 You Sure You Know Who You’re Talking To?

Leona ended the call and tucked her phone away.

Roughly thirty minutes later, a broad–shouldered man strode into the training ground.

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His hands were wrapped in thick cloth, with knuckles that felt like stone and skin showing a faint bluish hue. You didn’t need to guess–this was someone who’d been pounding his fists into iron sand and tree trunks for decades.

The second he showed up, the squad lit up.

“Chief Hooper!”

This was Larry Hooper, their former Chief Instructor.

He’d run the Southern Wyvern Blade for half a year. When he first took over, he beat Boomer in a spar and shut down all the doubters right there. Just like that, he earned their respect.

Then came that crushing loss at the Wyvern Cup. That was all it took for Darrow and the brass to pull the plug and swap him out for Leander, bumping Larry to Deputy.

Still, in their eyes? Larry was the real deal. The kind of leader they’d follow into the fire.

Boomer stepped up first, voice brimming with frustration. “Chief Hooper, we’re thinking of putting in a petition. We want you back. That new guy? Total poser. He can’t even take a challenge head–on. If we keep going like this, Northern Wyvern Blade’s going to wipe the floor with us again.”

That struck a nerve with the others. They all started chiming in, throwing shade at Leander, making it clear they wanted Larry back.

Larry felt a familiar tug in his chest. He gave a small nod, lips tightening. “Appreciate the support. However, it’s not that simple. I’m not in charge anymore… yet.”

His

eyes swept across their faces, voice dropping low. “Still, I’ve heard what’s been happening. The new Chief Instructor has you standing out here in the heat, with no explanation and no respect. That’s not how I trained you.”

He turned. “Let’s pay him a visit. It’s time he explained himself.”

Everyone knew the score–the deputy didn’t outrank the chief. That was just how it worked in the Southern Wyvern Blade.

Even so, Larry wasn’t some second–string sidekick. The man was a martial artist; he had spilled enough blood, sweat, and bone over the years to earn his stripes ten times over.

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Hierarchy? Titles? That stuff never meant much to him. If something didn’t sit right, he spoke up–didn’t matter who was wearing the title at the top.

“D*mm right!” someone shouted, and the rest followed suit. They rallied behind him, marching toward the office like they were storming enemy

lines.

Inside, Leander sat at his desk, flipping through squad files. His eyes flicked across each one, analyzing their physical traits and matching them to breathing patterns pulled from the Devourer’s Ninefold Path.

Then came the knock–or rather, the slam.

“So, you’re the new Chief Instructor, huh?” The voice had weight. It belonged to Larry, standing tall with half the squad behind him.

Leander didn’t even lift his head. “This is my office. If you’ve got no business here, get out.”

Larry folded his arms across his chest. “Larry Hooper. Former Chief Instructor of this unit.”

“Right.” Leander leaned back in his chair, unimpressed. “So, you’re the old guy, and I’m the one in charge now. I left them standing on the field because they needed it. You pulled them off. So, tell me, what exactly are you doing?”

Larry didn’t flinch. “I know you’re my superior now, on paper anyway. Technically, I’m not supposed to question your orders.”

He gave a slight shrug, tone firm but calm. “Even so, I believe I have the right to ask why they’re being treated this way. As the deputy, I think that gives me some room to speak, doesn’t it?”

Leander glanced at the doorway, noting the sea of eyes behind Larry. The same squad that defied his orders now stood in formation behind someone else.

He gave a half–smile, cold and quiet. “This is how you ask, huh?”

He leaned back in his chair, arms draped over the backrest like he had all the time in the world.

“Fine. You want answers? I’ll give it to you straight.”

“Every single one of you–yes, including you, Hooper–has been a letdown so far. You strut around like you’re untouchable, like the badge on your chest makes you invincible.”

“I had you stand there to break that illusion. You’re not special. You’re soldiers. Your job is to follow orders. Simple as that.”

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Chapter 240 You Sure You Know Who Youte Talking To?

That was all it took.

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Boomer finally snapped. He had held back earlier, but not anymore–not with Larry here to back him up.

“With all due respect, Chief Ashcroft, you’re not wrong–soldiers follow orders. No one’s arguing that. The thing is, around here? Respect isn’t automatic. You need to earn it. So far, you haven’t shown us.”

Brute stepped forward, arms crossed. “This isn’t about picking a fight, Chief. When Chief Hooper ran the squad, he faced us head–on. No hiding behind a fancy title, no barking orders from the sidelines. You? You wouldn’t even take the challenge. How’re we supposed to follow someone who won’t prove they can lead?”

Vane chimed in without hesitation, her voice cutting through the tension. “No offense, Chief, but in this unit? We follow strength. Always have. If you can’t show that you have what it takes, then you don’t belong here. I’ll keep calling it out till you step down.”

The others didn’t need an invitation. One after another, voices rose in agreement, backing their squad mates like a wave crashing forward.

Leona kept her arms crossed, not saying a word to help Leander. As far as she was concerned, Leander was all bark, no bite. If this was the guy leading them into the next Wyvern Cup, then yeah–might as well throw in the towel now.

The noise kept rising until Larry lifted a hand. Instantly, the room quieted.

He threw Leander a look–half–smirk, half–dare–his eyes glinting with amusement.

“You hear that, Chief Ashcroft? They’re fired up, yeah, but this isn’t mutiny–it’s just how things run in here. Show them you’ve got what it takes. It might save you a lot of trouble down the line.”

The words were calm, but the jab was sharp.

Leander gave a slow stretch, that familiar cocky grin sliding across his face. “Well, I was just here to sort out your training plans. Didn’t think any of you were worth the effort, to be honest.”

He let the words hang a second, then stood, eyes sharp. “Still, if you’re that desperate…”

He looked directly at Larry.

“I just don’t get one thing. You’ve been around long enough to know who you’re dealing with. So, what gave you the guts to bring them here?”

Larry raised an eyebrow. “Don’t act mysterious. I’m from Blacksteel Gate, got ties to the Tarlyn Guild–Master Tristan Tarlyn’s practically family.”

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He took a step closer, voice cool. “I’ve heard of Ethan Leander and Daphne Florian from Highcliffe. Claire Leigh from Silvermoon, Olivia Tarlyn–she’s my niece–Sylvia Blake from Stonepeak, Emma Reyne of Tri–Peak Sect… All those so–called Nine Geniuses of Astria? Yeah, I know the list.”

“Yours? Never came up. So go on, impress me. Which sect do you even come from?”

Larry’s eyes narrowed with quiet contempt. To him, Leander was just some greenhorn–way too young and unproven–to be calling shots for a squad like the Southern Wyvern Blade. If someone wanted to lead warriors like these, they should’ve at least hit the Grandmaster realm.

Far as Larry was concerned, no one named Leander Ashcroft had ever made waves in Astria’s martial world. Not even a whisper. So, what kind of prodigy was this guy supposed to be?

Leander just chuckled.

Hands casually tucked behind his back, he strolled out of the office. The squad watched, puzzled, trying to figure out what he was playing at.

Then, without a word or warning, his arm snapped forward.

One palm strike.

Boom.

The air cracked like thunder. A stone wall thirty feet away shattered on impact, bursting into dust and flying debris.

Right beneath it, a bronze training cauldron—solid, reinforced, nearly a thousand pounds— blew apart like it was made of paper. Shards of iron sprayed through the yard, clattering like

rain.

Just one palm?

That kind of destruction?

The squad froze.

Their faces were locked in a mix of fear, shock, and total disbelief.

Leona’s face had gone pale. She didn’t blink, like her mind hadn’t caught up with what her just saw.

eyes

Even Larry–an Elite Grandmaster, the man who’d taken down dozens in his prime–looked like he’d seen a ghost. His knees wobbled, and the bravado drained from his face.

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Leander turned back around, calm as ever. Then he spoke, “Now, do you know who I am?”

Send Gifts

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