From Ruin to Reign Leander's Unbreakable Will novel Chapter 294

Chapter 294 Vengeance Runs in the Blood

Great–grandpa… is that really you?”

日零

Tristan froze. The calm, composed Martial Sovereign of the Tarlyn Guild looked like the ground had just disappeared under his feet. His voice cracked, eyes wide in disbelief.

Olivia blinked, confused.

She had no idea what was going on. After her grandfather’s death, the only elders in the Guild were from his generation–men her father always referred to as uncles. Not once had she heard him use the word “grandpa.”

So, who was this man?

“Forty years, Tristan,” the old man spoke as he gently stroked his beard, voice flat and distant. “Didn’t think you’d remember me after all this time.”

“Great–grandpa, it’s really you?!”

Tristan’s voice wavered. For a man who never flinched in battle, he looked like his world had just tilted sideways. His knees nearly buckled.

Without a second thought, he stepped forward and dropped into a deep bow, right in front of Olivia. He grabbed her arm, pulling her down beside him.

“Tristan… pays his respects.” His voice was low, almost shaky.

Then he glanced at her, eyes sharp with urgency. “This is my great–grandpa. Olivia, show your respect.”

Still stunned, Olivia dropped into a bow, though her mind was spinning. Her father—a Martial Sovereign–was kneeling without hesitation. That alone told her all she needed to know, Whoever this man was, he wasn’t just a relic from the past. He was the relic.

“Get up,” the old man ordered.

His voice didn’t really match his age–didn’t sound old, didn’t sound young. It had a strange, timeless quality to it, as if it had been echoing through the decades.

Tristan stood slowly, eyes still shining with emotion.

“Great–grandpa, after you vanished from the Tarlyn Guild all those years ago, Grandpa and Father tried everything to find you. We thought…”

His words stalled in his throat.

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Chapter 204 Vengeaner Runs in the Blood

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The old man cracked a thin smile. “What? You figured I was dead?”

He clapped a hand on Tristan’s shoulder, then turned his gaze to Olivia. His eyes narrowed slightly, sharp as blades.

The second he looked at her, Olivia felt like her soul had been peeled open. Her thoughts, her cultivation, her flaws–everything felt exposed.

Even her father’s pressure never felt this overwhelming.

“Impressive,” the old man suddenly laughed.

“So young, already knocking on the door of half–Sovereign. If she’s nurtured right, the Tarlyn Guild might see its prime again in fifty years. Maybe even produce another one who reaches the Transcendent Realm.”

That made Tristan’s brow twitch. His gaze sharpened. “Great–grandpa… are you saying you’ve…?”

The old man didn’t respond. He just turned around and lowered himself into the chair beside the stone bed–calm, deliberate, like the whole place still belonged to him.

“I heard what you were saying just now,” he said, settling in. “Someone the Tarlyn Guild can’t afford to mess with, is that it?”

His gaze locked onto Tristan–sharp, unreadable. There was no warmth in it.

Tristan’s head dipped in shame. “It’s my failing, Great–grandpa. I’ve let things slip too far. If I’ve embarrassed the Tarlyn Guild, I’ll take whatever punishment you think I deserve.”

The guilt had been eating at him for years. Leander had killed his own brother, and not once had he dared retaliate. Even now, knowing where the man was, he was sending his own daughter and brother–in–law to play nice with him.

For a clan that once ruled Stonebrae with absolute dominance in Mornwick, this was humiliation.

Still, what could he do?

Leander’s strength wasn’t something you could challenge. He wasn’t just stronger. He was untouchable. Pushing back would mean risking the entire Tarlyn Guild.

The old man responded calmly, “Tristan, there aren’t ten people in all of Astria who can outmatch you right now. You’re telling me you’re too scared to fight?”

His tone didn’t rise. His body didn’t move.

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Chanter 204 Vengrance Runs in the blood

Yet the room suddenly felt heavier.

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Tristan sighed, voice low. “It’s not about fear. It’s about reality. The man we’re talking about…. he’s on another level.”

He laid it all out–Mason’s death, the fallout with Leander, the weight of the title Iron Sovereign.

The old man raised an eyebrow. “Jeff Ashcroft? You mean the kid who sits at the top of the Astria Power Index?”

Tristan nodded.

“So, it’s him.” The old man’s eyes glinted, the name clearly familiar.

“I’ve spent years wandering the peaks, chasing realms beyond the Sovereign path. I’ve ignored worldly affairs for decades… yet even I’ve heard his name.”

“Jeff Ashcroft. The kid who tore through half of Astria’s Sovereigns and climbed straight to the top of the power index. That kind of feat? It hasn’t happened in centuries.”

He paused, then added with a hint of admiration, “Even back in my prime, I wasn’t on his level. He’s the real deal–a living legend. You’re right… You’re nowhere near strong enough to take him on.”

His words sounded like praise, but there wasn’t an ounce of awe in them.

It felt more like he was sizing up a promising junior–gifted, no doubt–but still just a junior in his eyes.

Tristan lowered his head, jaw tight with frustration. Now over fifty, he was a leader and a Martial Sovereign. Yet he still had to bow to a man in his twenties just to keep the Tarlyn Guild alive.

In front of his ancestors, he felt like a joke.

Olivia stayed silent, eyes bouncing between the two. She still didn’t know who this man was or why he held such weight in her father’s eyes.

The silence dragged on for a while. The old man tapped the armrest with his knuckles. Then he stood, turning his back to them as he slowly walked toward the door and asked, “Tristan, do you even understand how the Tarlyn Guild once ruled Mornwick and Stonebrae with an iron grip?”

Tristan stood behind him, puzzled. He wasn’t sure where this was going, so he said nothing.

“My father left Highcliffe when the kingdom of Orenthall was on its last legs,” the old man

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Chapter 204 Vengeance Runs in the Blond

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continued, his voice calm, tone drifting like smoke. “He came to Stonebrae–a land in chaos, torn apart by warlords and splintered clans.”

“In under a year, he brought them all to their knees. No politics, no schemes–just fists. That’s how the Tarlyn Guild was built.”

“We held that seat for over a century. No one dared challenge us. Every generation, we produced giants.”

He paused for a beat. “Then your father’s generation came along.”

Tristan’s hands balled into fists, his face full of shame.

“You want to know why you and your father failed?” the old man asked, voice turning cold.

“It’s because you forgot how we got here.”

“It all started with my father, then my grandfather, and even I–each of us trained hard, building our strength with our own hands. It’s about actual martial skill, not just tricks.”

“Yet, your father turned the Tarlyn Guild into a den of poison masters and hidden weapons. You let them mock us with words like ‘crafty‘ and ‘dishonorable.‘ You leaned into it. Wore it like a badge.”

The words landed like hammer blows.

Tristan opened his mouth, but no words came.

Then the air shifted.

Without warning, the old man’s aura exploded outward.

Tristan, a full–fledged Martial Sovereign, stumbled back several steps just to stay standing. Olivia didn’t even get that far–she was thrown to the wall by the sheer pressure.

They barely had time to recover before the old man raised his right hand and threw a punch into the forest.

Boom.

The world shook.

Wind roared, trees shattered, and leaves flew like ash in a storm. A chunk of forest, maybe 60 feet wide, got flattened like it had been crushed under an invisible mountain.

Tristan and Olivia stared in disbelief. That punch didn’t just hit hard. It tore through the forest like a divine judgment.

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Chapter 244 Vengeance Runs in the Blood

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Dristan, even as a Martial Sovereign, could barely bring down a few trees with a full–powered strike. Yet this old man had wiped out a whole stretch of forest with a single blow.

The same question echoed in both their minds: What kind of strength is this?

Before either of them could speak, the old man’s voice cut through the silence. “Find Jeff. The name of the Tarlyn Guild won’t stay buried under his shadow. I, Tristan Tarlyn, will take it back -with my own hands.”

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