From Outcast to Overlord The Unyielding Heir (Leander Ashcroft) novel Chapter 354

Elkins stood with his hands clasped behind his back, a faintly disdainful smile curling at his lips as he motioned lazily for Ethan and the others to come forward.

His arrogance left the young martial elites of Astria momentarily stunned before fury surged through them. Ethan, Daphne, Eira, and Tycen were the top among Astria's younger generation—each one powerful enough to stand alone.

Yet Elkins, whom none of them had even heard of before, had just declared he would take on all four at once. In all of Astria's martial world, no one had been able to best the four of them single-handedly.

"Ridiculous! We don't even need them to deal with you. I, Kian Hart of Stonepeak Sect, am more than enough!"

Before Ethan and the others could react, Kian burst forward with a roar. His sword flashed, forming a cross-shaped pattern that locked onto Elkins' vital points.

Elkins merely snorted, his expression indifferent, and threw out a casual punch.

There was a thunderous crack as his fist met the sword tip. The pure steel blade shattered into several pieces with a sharp clang, and Kian was hurled backward, coughing up blood as his body slammed into the sand and skidded across the beach before going limp.

The crowd fell silent in shock.

Kian might not have been the strongest among the younger generation, but he was still one of the Nine Geniuses—an Elite Grandmaster. Yet Elkins had crushed him with a single punch. Even Ethan or Daphne would have struggled to accomplish such a feat.

In that instant, Ethan, Daphne, Claire, and the others all felt a deep sense of gravity settle over them.

When Elkins had first dashed across the waves, he hadn't even displayed his full strength. Now, after seeing him cripple Kian with one effortless strike, the pressure was palpable. There was no doubt—Elkins' cultivation had already reached the level of a Martial Sovereign.

High above, the four War God Sanctum Transcendents hovered midair, confidence gleaming in their eyes. They clearly had every faith in Elkins.

"Come on!"

Elkins flicked a hand toward them after sending Kian flying, as though swatting a fly, taunting the rest without a hint of concern.

"You b*stard!"

Tycen's gaze darkened. He slid a foot sideways and thrust his palm forward. His inner strength surged, forming a massive, nearly tangible imprint that roared toward Elkins—the O'Brien family's famed technique, the Perfect Hand.

Elkins quirked a brow, unbothered, and met it with another casual punch.

A burst of force exploded in midair. The perfect palm imprint shattered as Elkins' fist tore straight through it. The residual energy didn't fade—it howled like a storm as it crashed toward Tycen. Shocked, Tycen crossed his arms in front of him to block.

A sickening crack sounded. Tycen's forearms snapped under the impact, and the violent energy churned through his body, making his insides twist. He spat blood and staggered backward.

Even so, he barely managed to stay on his feet. But before he could catch his breath, a sharp whistle split the air. Elkins was already on him again, moving like lightning. In the blink of an eye, he appeared at Tycen's side, another fist descending with lethal intent. Tycen's eyes widened in panic—he had no way to defend himself.

Just as Elkins' fist was about to crush him, four streams of force shot toward Elkins from different directions, all aimed at his vital points.

Elkins grunted and instantly abandoned the attack, stomping down hard as he sprang backward, widening the distance between himself and his attackers.

Ethan, Daphne, Eira, and Claire now stood shoulder to shoulder before Tycen, staring coldly at Elkins—their combined strike just now had saved Tycen's life.

Teion, watching his son nearly die, roared and started forward to join the fight. But a sudden blast of energy swept across the sand in front of him, gouging a deep pit and cutting him off.

"Need you interfere in a duel between the younger generation? Well, the four major elite families are starting to look awfully desperate."

Teion spun around. The one who had just attacked was the man wielding a long spear. And now, with a flick of his hand, the man sent another surge of power spiraling through the air, crashing down toward Teion like a bolt of lightning.

Teion turned grave instantly. Though he was half a step into the Pre-Transcendent Realm, against a true Transcendent Realm opponent, he was nothing but an ant—and he knew he couldn't possibly withstand that blow.

"Hurgh!"

Just then, Corwin flicked his sleeve, releasing a streak of blazing energy that met the crimson-and-black blast from his opponent head-on. The two forces collided with a thunderous boom, sending waves surging wildly across the Southern Shore as though the entire coastline might collapse beneath the impact.

Reginald and the other three elders immediately broke off from their fight with the War God Sanctum Transcendents, turning to face the newcomers. Their expressions hardened with realization.

It had already taken everything they had to hold back the four Transcendents. Now, five more from the Arbitration Office had appeared—and from their formation, it was clear they stood on the same side. That meant nine Transcendent Realm masters against four.

And worse still, the ones who had just arrived radiated an even stronger pressure. The four from the War God Sanctum were only Kindling Transcendents, but these five from the Arbitration Office were clearly Ember Transcendents—one entire rank higher.

The black-haired man holding the bone whip was the strongest of them all; his aura was vast and unfathomable, deeper than the sea itself.

Such an overwhelming lineup—nine Transcendents united against the four major elite families—had never once appeared in all of Astria's history.

A chill ran down Reginald's spine as a thought struck him like lightning. Could this be the calamity the Celestial Mirror foretold—the Ashcroft family's destined disaster? he thought.

Ethan, Daphne, and the others stood frozen, their faces pale and tense. Elkins, however, grinned wickedly. "This is it—the end of your so-called four great families. Enjoy your last moments while you still can."

As he spoke, his shirt tore apart under the surge of power from within. Muscles bulged, veins pulsed, and his aura doubled in intensity, shaking the air itself. Shadows rolled across the Southern Shore, and countless young martial artists from Astria instinctively wanted to flee.

…

In the O'Brien family's ranks, Aurora sat beside Rodrick. She had come at his invitation, hoping to witness the grandeur of the martial assembly between the four major elite families. Never in her wildest dreams had she expected such a deadly confrontation to unfold before her eyes.

Seeing the grim expressions on Reginald, Gareth, and even Ethan, Aurora could tell that the situation was dire—so dire that even the four major elite families might not be able to handle it. Anxiety churned in her chest.

Then her gaze drifted toward a quiet figure sitting nearby—Leander.

While chaos engulfed the beach, Leander calmly lifted his cup, his expression utterly serene, as though none of it concerned him. In that stillness, Aurora saw not fear or tension, but composure—an almost otherworldly calm.

She remembered the stories of his youth—how Leander had once been the legend of Highcliffe, the number one among their generation. Her heart skipped a beat, a strange thought flashing through her mind. Could it be… that he has everything under control?