From Ruin to Reign Leander's Unbreakable Will novel Chapter 371

The two men sat in silence, wide-eyed.

The International Combat Units list was the ultimate scale of power. It was the summit of the martial world.

Fifth place. It didn't sound like much at first. But this was a ranking of the strongest fighters on the planet. Every name on that list had spent decades bleeding for their power.

Even the ones near the bottom had trained for seventy years or more. Some were nearly a hundred. The top ten? Definitely even more.

Anyone who could make the list in their sixties were hailed as prodigies. Geniuses of their era. The Dragon Emperor himself had entered the list at sixty. Never in history had anyone under sixty made it in.

And now, Leander—Jeff Ashcroft—had done it at nineteen. Fifth in the world. It didn't feel real.

Gareth scrolled down again. His heart sank. Ares' name wasn't there.

That day at the Southern Ocean, Ares had used lightning to fake his death and flee. Everyone saw it. With his strength, his place on this new list should have been guaranteed.

But he was gone. There was only one explanation. He was dead. And if the International Martial Network said he was gone, then there was no doubt about it.

Reginald remembered the fiery arrow Leander had unleashed. The truth hit him hard. Ares hadn't escaped that day. He'd been burned out of existence.

Reginald leaned back into the couch, staring blankly at the ceiling.

"We had to cut him loose so he could become what he is now. And he did. But he's no longer one of us. The universe really has a cruel sense of humor."

Gareth stayed quiet. His gaze was distant, filled with pride and regret.

With Leander, the Ashcroft family could have ruled for centuries. Without him, they would stand, but never rise again. Gareth was strong, but he alone could not do much to help the family.

The whole martial world was in an uproar. Every country buzzed with disbelief. Every fighter fell silent. The news of Leander making the list was unbelievable.

…

Meanwhile, at the Florian family of Highcliffe's estate, Leander leaned back on a soft couch, a cup of rare tea in his hand. The scent filled the room like mist.

Daphne sat close beside him, her smile soft and warm. Across from them, Wesley and Raphael sat grinning, their faces bright with pride.

Wesley used to look down on Leander without hesitation. To him, Leander was a dull, forgotten relic—once sharp, now covered in rust. But what he saw now turned that belief to dust. Leander wasn't an old blade. He was something reborn, forged from fire and fury, gleaming with divine light.

He had defeated eleven Transcendent Realm masters on his own. He had torn apart the joint might of the Arbitration Office and the War God Sanctum. He had crushed two warriors from the International Combat Units as if they were nothing. Across Astria, across the world itself, no one close to his age could come near his level of power.

Wesley's pride crumbled. The longer he stared at Leander, the more his admiration grew. His eyes lit up like a man seeing a living legend. Even Raphael, the elder patriarch of the Florian family, treated Leander with rare respect. He sat with him as an equal, discussing the essence of combat and strength. The entire Florian family regarded Leander as one of their own.

If they could have, they would have married him to Daphne that very night. Losing a man like him was something none of them could risk.

"Leander," Wesley said, his voice filled with excitement. "I just saw the new International Combat Units rankings on the network. You're fifth. After the Southern Ocean battle, your name is everywhere. The whole world's talking about you."

He looked at Leander with a strange blend of awe and jealousy.

Leander gave a small smile. "You give me too much credit, Mr. Florian. Rankings mean little. There are too many hidden monsters out there. The real masters never bother showing up on any list."

Raphael nodded slowly. His expression carried weight.

"You're right. The Dragon Emperor once sat at the very top of that same list. Yet even he was forced back to Astria when the Supreme Arbiters of the Arbitration Office came for him. The true giants never care about fame.

"Think about Mount Martial's Inner Circle, or the Twinfang Sect's House of Exorcists, or Ancient Lingster. They've stood for centuries, some for nearly a thousand years. Their depth runs too deep to measure."

He fell silent for a moment. His tone grew heavy as he looked straight at Leander.

"Leander, what you did at the Southern Ocean shook the world. But the Arbitration Office isn't just made up of elite Arbiters.

"Above them are the Chief Arbiters. They're on another level. Thirty years ago, the fighter ranked third in the International Combat Units went up against one of them.

"Within fifty strikes, he was crippled. His power never returned. You're strong, but you need to stay alert."

Wesley leaned forward, his brow furrowed with worry.

Cold laughter filled the air. The sound scraped across the walls like blades on stone. Leander's name meant nothing here. To these beings, he was just a flicker of light waiting to be snuffed out.

Reefus lifted his head. His eyes were calm but fierce. "I've already assembled our best Arbiters. I'm ready to lead them myself. Give the order, and I'll erase him."

Silence stretched for a long moment.

Then, a low chuckle echoed through the room. "An assault?"

"Reefus," one of the shadowed figures said, amused. "You're thinking too small. You want to send our best after a boy? He is not worth the effort."

The laughter died, replaced by an eerie stillness.

"Cancel your strike. We'll deal with Jeff Ashcroft differently."

The air vibrated with power as the voice deepened. "The world needs to be reminded of what true power looks like. If Jeff thinks he's touched the top, then we'll show him the sky is far higher than he can see."

A different voice spoke then, smooth and cold. "You forget, the Son of Judgment is about to awaken."

Reefus' face twitched. He turned his head sharply.

"The Son of Judgment?"

His eyes drifted to the far end of the hall, where a faint red glow flickered in the dark.

A glass chamber stood there, filled with thick crimson liquid that shimmered like molten fire. Inside, a young man floated, suspended in stillness. His skin was pale, his body unmoving, but his eyelids trembled every few seconds, as if he were fighting to wake.

From one of the icy thrones, a deep voice thundered softly.

"Reefus, leave Jeff Ashcroft to him.

"He will awaken soon. He will rise by crushing Jeff beneath his feet. He will become the storm that makes the world remember who rules it."