From Outcast to Overlord The Unyielding Heir (Leander Ashcroft) novel Chapter 494

"Master Hermit, I've come to see you."

Holden bowed deeply, a full ninety degrees, his tone filled with utmost respect.

As head of the Netherweb, his cultivation wasn't exceptional, yet he commanded masters as bodyguards. Even the arrogant Blood Demon would have received only a nod in greeting on a normal day.

Facing the old man before him, he dared not show an ounce of disrespect.

This man was the Netherweb's top assassin—the strongest, most revered trump card. Number one on the International Assassin Leaderboard—the Hermit.

"Is that Holden?"

The Hermit's face was a map of wrinkles, eyes narrowed to slits. His voice was hoarse and frail, trembling like it could break at any moment. The hand holding his fishing rod shook slightly. One glance and anyone would think him a candle flickering toward its end.

"It's me, Master Hermit. Last time I saw you, I was eight. Fifty years have passed in a blink."

Holden straightened and smiled. Even in this icy wasteland, and despite being a Martial Sovereign with internal energy protecting him, he couldn't help but feel a chill.

He didn't mind. Sitting cross-legged in front of the Hermit.

"I'm old, my memory fails me. I remember telling your father that I'd repaid your family's debt in full. I had nothing more to do with the Netherweb. You came today—does your family intend to go back on that promise?"

The Hermit's raspy voice carried an unmatched, world-commanding authority. Holden, commander of the Netherweb and head of the prestigious Brown family, felt his heart tighten and tension spike at just a single word from the Hermit. He forced a bitter smile and waved his hands.

"Master Hermit, my family has no intention of reneging. I come on my own. This has nothing to do with them."

"Is that so?"

The Hermit lifted his eyes slightly, returning his focus to the fishing line.

"I've been fishing on this ice for fifty years. Haven't moved, haven't spoken. Your visit breaks my silence. For your father's and your family's sake, you have five minutes. Tell me why you're here."

Holden nodded immediately, his expression turning grave.

"Master Hermit, I've come to ask you to return to action."

The Hermit's eyes showed no reaction. A faint smile crossed his lips.

"Holden, you think that just because you command the Netherweb and have the Brown family behind you, I wouldn't dare kill you? Fifty years ago I quit the Netherweb. I won't make another move. You may leave."

Fifty years ago, after completing a nearly impossible hit assigned by the Netherweb, he retired to Breyji, devoting himself to martial arts. Killing no longer interested him. His only pursuit was power and the path to greatness.

"Please, Master Hermit, forgive my intrusion," Holden said, bowing so low his forehead nearly touched the ice.

"This visit is unavoidable. Two days ago, the Netherweb suffered the worst blow in its history. In one night, over a hundred Slayer-tier and Earth-tier assassins were lost."

The Hermit's eyes lifted slightly, surprise flickering across his gaze.

He had joined the Netherweb in its earliest days. He knew its strength and foundation. In the Netherweb's history, they had always crushed their targets without suffering great losses.

In a single night, over a hundred Slayer- and Earth-tier assassins were lost, effectively wiping out nine-tenths of the Netherweb's upper-tier operatives. He was surprised, but he still didn't respond.

Seeing that, Holden pressed on.

"Of course not," Holden said, voice low. "He only rose in the past two years."

He laid out Leander's feats over the last two years, leaving nothing out. The Hermit's gaze brightened with each account. By the end, his cloudy eyes were wide open.

"What a monster—Iron Sovereign Jeff Ashcroft. He trampled both the Arbitration Office and the Netherweb. Killing the Blood Demon shows he's almost at King Phase. Maybe he's already there."

Excitement shone in the Hermit's eyes, decades of bloodthirsty hunger returning. Holden, ecstatic, asked carefully, "Master Hermit, will you return? Hunt Jeff and restore the Netherweb's honor?"

The Hermit smiled faintly, set down the rod, and rose.

Wrinkles unfolded, white hair darkened from the roots, spreading quickly. His shrunken limbs swelled, frame lengthened, teeth regrew. Within breaths, the frail old man transformed into a handsome, muscular middle-aged warrior, life force roaring.

Holden bowed again, forehead to the ice.

"Congratulations, Master Hermit—ascending to the King Phase!"

The Hermit's expression remained cool. "I'm only at the peak of the King's Triple Turn, not yet a full King Phase. Comparable to the Blood Demon—a Half-King. However, the gap between each turn of the King Phase is a canyon. Even ten Blood Demons together? I could crush them with one hand."

He lifted his chin to the sky. The ice trembled.

"I had vowed to abandon all missions and devote myself entirely to the martial path. But today, for the name Jeff, I will break that oath."

Holden laughed inside. The Netherweb's strongest trump card had agreed.

That night, the Global Assassin Network's homepage lit up with a name long forgotten—the Hermit. The international assassin world erupted.