From Outcast to Overlord The Unyielding Heir (Leander Ashcroft) novel Chapter 316

Outcast to Overlord. The Unyielding Heir

Chapter 316 Numbers Game

“Leander?”

Evander’s breath caught as he was pulled to his feet. His chest rose and fell hard, and his wide eyes locked on Leander in disbelief.

Back in the private room at Saffron House, Leander had stayed quiet, unmoving, almost like he was afraid to even breathe. Evander had pegged him for a coward who would never stand his ground.

Yet here, in this dark alley, the bodyguard who had beaten Evander down with ease had been crippled in a single instant by one kick from Leander. The bone–breaking strike echoed in his head. He struggled to accept what he had just witnessed. He couldn’t even defeat the guy when he gave it his all earlier.

“You all right?”

Leander’s tone was casual. He dusted Evander’s shoulder with one hand. A calm smile brushed across his lips as if nothing at all had happened.

The haze lifted from Evander’s mind. He shook his head quickly, regaining himself. Ahead of them, Nathan’s deep grunt split the fight.

Nathan had trained his body in mixed martial arts, but training was not the same as mastery. He had lasted longer than expected, yet the tide had turned against him. His arms and legs faltered, and the weight of defeat pressed closer with every passing second.

A vicious kick slammed into his ribs and forced him sideways. The bodyguard seized the opening and drove a fist toward Nathan’s face.

If the strike connected, Nathan’s nose would cave in. His face would be ruined beyond recognition.

But as the punch tore forward, another fist blurred past Nathan’s shoulder.

Flesh and bone collided in the air with a violent crack that split the night.

The bodyguard screamed as his arm bent in a direction no arm should ever bend. His body was flung across the alley and skidded along the rough ground until he fell silent, out cold.

A firm hand pressed into Nathan’s back, steadying him before he hit the ground.

His heart pounded, and he spun around. His eyes locked with Leander’s cold, unreadable stare.

“Leander?”

Nathan’s voice shook. His face carried pure shock, as if the man before him was not the one he had known all along.

Leander pulled him behind with case and allowed a faint smile to linger. “So, tell me, how does it feel to play the hero, to throw yourself forward for the girl? It doesn’t feel as glorious as you thought, does it?”

Nathan froze, the words striking harder than any punch. He had no answer.

Leander’s gaze cut toward the front, his voice steady and piercing. “The only reason I sat still back in that room was because I wanted you to understand one truth.

“Helping people is noble, but you must know where your strength ends.

“Sometimes reaching out will drag you into a place you can’t crawl out of. That slap Theron gave you earlier was proof carved right onto your skin.”

Nathan’s eyes flickered, his lips parting with something unsaid. Before he could speak, Leander’s hand pressed firmly on his shoulder. “Go back to Bianca. You wanted to be the hero tonight, and I’ll see it through with you because you’re my friend. But from here on, let me handle what’s coming.”

He did not wait for an answer. His steps carried him forward, calm and unhurried.

Luke was still fighting hard, his strength forcing his opponent to give everything he had just to keep up. But suddenly, a pale, slender hand slid in from the side and clamped down on the bodyguard’s wrist.

The man’s face twisted with alarm. He struggled to break free, but the grip was iron.

His body was ripped from the ground as if it was weightless. He felt himself getting dragged up into the air, and then something slammed him down with crushing force.

The ground roared as cracks split through the pavement. Blood gushed from his lips, and his body went limp, lost to the darkness.

Luke froze, his face draining of color. Theron and the rest of his men whipped their heads around in shock. Their stares filled the alley, heavy with disbelief.

Leander motioned with a simple gesture, telling Luke to fall back. He stepped forward until he stood squarely in front of Theron.

“So you’re Theron?”

Theron’s eyes narrowed as he studied him. He remembered the man from earlier. Leander had sat in silence and did nothing but finish his tea. His presence was so dim that Theron had written him off as useless.

But now, in the span of moments, this same man had crushed three of his best fighters. It made no sense, yet the evidence was right in front of him.

Even so, he had nearly a hundred bodyguards circling the alley, and his confidence did not falter. His voice was hard as stone as he answered. “That’s right. I’m Theron.

He stretched out a hand, his finger aiming for Leander’s shoulder as though he was about to poke a hole through him. But before his finger could even land, Leander’s palm lashed out.

The strike cut through the air with the force of a breaking storm.

Theron’s body was lifted and hurled sideways like a kite with its string severed. He smashed against the brick wall with bone–jarring force, his mouth and nose bursting with blood.

His vision spun wildly as shock filled his eyes.

His mind could barely register what had just happened. He could not believe it. Leander struck him.

Another mouthful of blood spilled down his chin as he fought against the dizziness pressing in on him. His face twisted in rage as he roared, “Get him! Every single one of you! Tear that bestard apart! I don’t care if you break him or kill him! Just do as I say! I’ll handle the law!”

Never once in his life had he been humiliated like this. The fury was too much to contain. With one violent sweep of his arm, the command tore from his lips, and the guards on both sides of the alley exploded forward. A black tide of bodies surged, crashing down on Leander like a wave bent on drowning him.

In seconds, the narrow alley boiled with bodies pressing together. The crowd closed in, forming an unbreakable wall around Leander.

“Leander!”

Nathan cried out before he even realized it, rushing forward to help. Luke and Evander gritted their teeth, ready to throw themselves into the storm. But in the very next heartbeat, all three of them froze in place. Their legs locked beneath them, their breath caught in their throats.

Because before their eyes, men in dark suits were sent flying back in every direction as if struck by invisible hammers.

Leander’s figure flickered among the mob like a shadow, a phantom weaving between bodies. Each step he took brought down three or four men, and with every motion, more were flung aside.

The air filled with the sounds of bodies crashing against the ground and bones snapping under the force of his strikes.

Barely a minute passed before the hundred guards were no longer standing. They lay scattered across the alley in every direction. Some writhed with broken arms and shattered legs, others lay motionless in unconscious heaps, but none of them could stand and fight again.

At the heart of the devastation, Leander stood alone, straight and unyielding, like a spear thrust into the earth and pointed at the heavens above.

Not far away, Theron’s legs trembled uncontrollably. His eyes were wide with horror, the bravado stripped out of him, leaving only fear.

Leander’s gaze cut through the alley like a blade as he turned toward him. Step by step, he walked forward, his presence heavy enough to crush the air itself. “You take pride in overwhelming the few with your numbers.”

A crooked smile bent across Leander’s lips, carrying a cruel and dangerous charm. “Time for a taste of your own medicine.”