From Outcast to Overlord The Unyielding Heir (Leander Ashcroft) novel Chapter 300

Chapter 300 Crimson Wingstorm

You’re an Ember Transcendent too?” Tristan narrowed his eyes, his voice tinged with disbelief

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That last punch he’d thrown had carried nearly 80% of his innate vitality–enough to split mountains and flatten villas. Even a lesser Transcendent would’ve been seriously injured.

Bin Leander had countered effortlessly–with a single casual punch–and sent him flying. That level of power… was every bit on par with his own.

“Ember Transcendent?” Leander shook his head lightly. “I’ve read about the four stages of the Transcendent Realm, sure. But I haven’t even stepped into that realm yet–let alone reached the Ember stage.”

Tristan‘ eyes flickered with visible doubt.

“That’s impossible,” he said coldly. “If you’re not a Transcendent, how could you take that punch?”

Leander gave a faint, almost mocking smile. “Do you really think you can grasp what I’m capable of?”

The path he had forged was his own creation–the “Devourer’s Ninefold Path“. It didn’t just temper the spirit and refine energy; it also strengthened the body, forging the flesh itself into a

weapon.

The Devourer Form born from the “Devourer’s Ninefold Path” was a body unlike any other in the world–far surpassing even the most renowned body–tempering arts. Compared to it, even the most elite martial sects specializing in physical cultivation couldn’t match one–tenth of its effectiveness.

And what Leander cultivated wasn’t inner strength, nor innate vitality. It was something even more pure and potent–Primordial Energy.

Primordial Energy was the essence from which all things were born, infused with the five elements. It was the most fundamental force of nature. Combined with the power of the Devourer Form and the “Devourer’s Ninefold Path“, even though his realm was only at the Pre- Transcendent stage, he had more than enough power to face a true Transcendent–Ember tier

or not.

“Quit bluffing.” Tristan sneered, pushing aside his shock. Without hesitation, he launched another punch.

This one tore straight across the river, cutting a tunnel through the rain and mist that extended

about 50 feet ahead.

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Roman and Atlas stood frozen in astonishment. With their current strength, even projecting inner strength 30 or so feet was already the limit. And even then, the force drastically weakened the farther it traveled–by the time it reached the target, it was a fraction of what it was at the start, nearly useless in real combat.

But Tristan‘ punch? It was sent from over 50 feet away, and yet its power remained undiminished. It hit just as hard at the end as it did when it left his fist. That feat alone left both men in utter awe.

Leander didn’t back down in the slightest. He responded with a punch of his own.

The two fists collided. Wind howled and power exploded. The Stormcairn River, which had been calm moments before, instantly erupted in towering waves. The clouds above churned, and massive sheets of water flew skyward. What had been a peaceful river transformed into a violent, churning battlefield.

They exchanged blow after blow, neither yielding, both relying solely on raw force. The clash of their fists made the river surge wildly. Waves slammed against the banks, boats rocked violently, and some nearly flipped over entirely.

Spectators on both banks stood rooted in place, eyes wide with disbelief, hearts pounding.

The world they lived in was one ruled by science and logic. A world where Newton’s laws were gospel and everything had to be grounded in evidence. And yet, right before their eyes, something completely beyond science was happening.

In the middle of the raging waves, two blurred figures clashed again and again, half–shrouded in mist. And for the first time, many couldn’t help but wonder–were they really witnessing mortals… or gods come to war?

Tristan and Olivia had just arrived when they caught sight of the two figures clashing on the river, their gazes sharpening with focus.

This was their first time witnessing a battle between fighters at the Transcendent Realm.

The area surrounding the two combatants was completely saturated with violent energy. If a Sovereign like them had been caught in the middle of it, they’d have been torn to pieces in an instant.

The members of the Southern Wyvern Blade stood in stunned silence as they watched the chaos unfold across the river.

They had always known their Chief Instructor was strong. But aside from the day he shattered mountains and crushed a bronze cauldron with one palm, Leander had never revealed his full power. None of them had a clear idea of just how strong he truly was.

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Now, they finally saw it with their own eyes–just how powerful Leander really was. The truth hit them like a brick wall: they weren’t even in the same universe as him.

Skyler lowered his head in shame. He had always known he couldn’t compare to Leander- probably never would, even if he spent a lifetime trying. Still, he had held on to a sliver of pride. But now, watching Leander unleash blow after earth–shaking blow, he finally let go of all his illusions.

The longer the fight went on, the more unsettled Tristan became. With every strike he threw, Leander met him head–on, countering punch for punch.

Each collision sent waves of unshakable force crashing through his arms–Leander’s fists carried an unrelenting, weightless might that made Tristan‘ energy feel sluggish by comparison.

They had already exchanged over a hundred punches. At first, Tristan still felt in control. But the more they traded blows, the more pressure he felt. Leander’s strength only seemed to grow heavier, more suffocating–bottomless like the sea, limitless as the abyss.

No matter how much innate vitality he summoned, Leander absorbed it all, matching every ounce of force with eerie precision, never once wavering.

D*mn it… what kind of freakish training did this kid go through?

Only now did Tristan realize just how badly he had underestimated him from the very beginning.

At last, with the hundredth punch, Tristan abandoned the direct clash. With a sharp cry, he slammed a foot against the surface of the river and shot skyward.

Leander’s next punch struck the spot he’d just left, sending up an eruption of water.

“Great–grandpa… avoided Jeff’s strike?” Tristan’s eyes narrowed.

A sense of unease crept over him.

That evasion might have looked harmless on the surface, but he knew what it meant–Tristan had just backed down from a frontal exchange. He was losing ground.

Leander lowered his hand, clasping both behind his back. He lifted his gaze, calmly watching Tristan rise through the air.

Tristan soared like a giant hawk spreading its wings. He swept both arms wide, and an immense surge of innate vitality erupted around him. A crimson sphere of energy formed visibly around his body, pulsing with terrifying pressure.

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His voice boomed through the valley. The red sphere suddenly exploded. Countless crimson Fragments shattered outward, converging and reforming into sixteen enormous feathers–each several meters long, glowing with sharp light and flowing blood–red energy.

The sixteen feathers didn’t wait for formation–they launched forward in a deadly straight line, hurtling toward Leander like guided missiles.

This time, the attack was at least ten times faster than the water spikes Tristan had used before. In the blink of an eye, the feathers were already inches from Leander’s chest. Two targeted his legs. Two locked onto his arms. Others shot toward his eyes, ribs, heart, core, lower abdomen, throat, even his mouth and nose.

In an instant, every vital point on Leander’s body had been surrounded. One more inch–and it would’ve been a kill shot.

Jeff Ashcroft!” Tristan roared with laughter, his voice echoing across the river. “This is the Tarlyn Guild’s ultimate technique. Feel it for yourself!”

His eyes burned with cold malice as the feathers closed in.

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