From Outcast to Overlord The Unyielding Heir (Leander Ashcroft) novel Chapter 521

A thunderous sound ripped through the night sky. Six Realms Primordial Energy, woven into a devastating column of light, plunged down at a sharp angle. It was easily a hundred feet thick.

The others only saw a flash—a vibrant, multi-colored streak whipping through the air, leaving a blinding afterimage in its wake.

Leander slammed his feet down, and the resulting shockwave exploded behind him. He rocketed upward to meet the colossal, multi-hued light beam, channeling pure Primordial Energy into his hands. His Nirvana Energy surged in that instant, blazing with a potent blue light.

Fwooosh!

The air shrieked as Leander's hands met the immense, concentrated force of Primordial Energy head-on.

The combined power of six triple-turn Half-Kings could crush a hundred-foot skyscraper or send a small mountain flying. Yet, when Leander stood against it, he only stumbled back a single step. The beam of raw power directly in front of him was instantly shattered and dispersed by the fierce blue light radiating from his hands.

"Honestly, I'm sick of the Arbitration Office's continuous harassment," he stated, his face utterly devoid of emotion after absorbing their joint attack.

He didn't wait.

His body became a missile, tearing into the void and charging straight toward the six who had attacked him.

Ever since his first encounter with the Arbitration Office, they had haunted him like a shadow, launching endless sieges and assassinations, appearing near him every few weeks. Initially, he had treated it with dismissive indifference, but now, he was simply weary of the whole cycle. He had lost all interest in playing their game.

All he wanted now was to eliminate them—every last one.

Whoosh!

With a single gesture, his palm began to glow. His unique Nirvana Energy condensed into a blue energy hammer, which he swung fiercely from the side, targeting Moffat directly.

Moffat felt a sudden, sharp draft before him. His expression tightened, and he let out a guttural roar.

His clothes instantly ripped as his knotted muscles swelled. His six-foot-three frame ballooned several times over, transforming him into a twenty-foot giant. His muscles, hard as unyielding metal, shone with the unique gray-black luster of granite. This was the source of his nickname, "the Stonehide."

Moffat had always been a body-strengthening martial artist, foregoing traditional internal cultivation to focus on body-forging. Against all odds, he carved out a successful path, perfecting his physique until his flesh was as tough as steel and granite. His skin could automatically harden, easily shrugging off cannon fire and machine-gun rounds.

In the Sahar Wastes, he once took a direct hit from an anti-tank shell with no damage, a testament to his supreme confidence in his own body.

A massive giant had suddenly appeared before Leander, but he remained utterly unfazed, his expression cold. He only swung his arms wider.

Moffat swiped his colossal hand horizontally, just as the blue energy hammer in Leander's hand smashed into his palm.

Bang!

The impact unleashed a piercing roar that shook the heavens. Hundreds of feet away, the glass at the top of Yelem Church shattered, and cracks began to appear in the stone and brickwork.

An immense shockwave rippled out from Leander and Moffat's collision. Moffat's gargantuan body was flung backward, skidding over three hundred feet away.

A web of cracks now covered his forearm. Leander's energy hammer had nearly splintered his arm.

"Where in the hell did this guy get such terrifying strength?" Moffat muttered, his expression grave as he felt the injury to his arm.

Leander was about to press his attack when a phantom shadow flashed across the sky. A colossal serpent's tail swept in from the side, aiming for his back.

Thud!

The powerful tail carried a gale force capable of slicing steel, but when it hit Leander's back, it failed to move him even an inch.

Leander's face was cold. Ignoring the python of purplish-black energy wrapping around him, he clenched his fingers shut.

Crunch!

The mutant serpent's body was covered in thick, hard scales, capable of repelling bullets, yet in Leander's grip, they felt as brittle as bread. Its heart-area was instantly crushed, and its massive head fell away from the sky.

"B*stard!"

Watz, the Serpentseer, roared with bloodshot eyes, his rage boiling over.

He had found this mutant serpent in the Westerian Hellspire when it was just a hatchling. He had spent nearly a century nurturing and refining it, boosting its venom, physical strength, and body integrity. All that effort had culminated in the creature he had just lost.

Leander had killed the mutant serpent in a single move, nullifying a hundred years of Watz's painstaking effort.

Bloodlust flashed in Watz's eyes. He pressed two fingers together, chanting the most ancient of incantations.

The purplish-black python coiling around Leander's body tightened, burrowing into his skin like a bone-deep poison and sinking into Leander's very flesh.

This was his signature secret technique: Serpent Devour!

"Jeff, you killed my beloved pet. Today, I'll dissolve your flesh and blood, turning you into the raw fuel for my venomous mist!"

Watz's maniacal laughter echoed through the sky. Leander stood motionless, as if rooted to the spot.

It was at this moment that Hadrian, the Stormkick, and Alaric, the Lonefist, finally made their move!