From Ruin to Reign Leander's Unbreakable Will novel Chapter 473

A voice burst across the riverwalk with an authority that hit like a rip current. Dylan's expression collapsed in an instant.

He had grown up wrapped in privilege inside one of Seagate's most established dynasties. People tiptoed around him. Business leaders twice his age treated him like a visiting senator's son. No one had ever thrown a blunt "scram" at him in his entire life.

Daphne heard that voice and froze, her knees trembling. She spun toward it quickly.

A young man in a clean white jacket walked along the riverside path, the night breeze pushing through his dark hair. Daphne's eyes shimmered with emotion.

"Ander!"

Her voice conveyed genuine relief. More than a month had gone by since she last saw Leander in Whitville. The International Martial Network reported that his arrival at Aorinth Peaks had gone smoothly, but constant updates kept knotting her stomach.

"I'm back." Leander offered a warm smile. He had flown in from overseas and driven straight to Highcliffe University without even stopping home.

Daphne stepped into him without hesitation and rested against his shoulder under dozens of curious eyes.

"You get what you needed at Aorinth Peaks?" Her voice dropped to a gentle, soft tone.

"Yeah." Leander chuckled quietly and tapped her lightly on the head. "How about sushi carousel later?"

The usually composed, elegant Daphne nodded like the most obedient girlfriend on earth. Holding his hand, she looked ready to walk into a courthouse and sign a marriage license.

"Hold it." Dylan's voice dropped colder than the lake nearby.

Leander and Daphne stopped and turned as one.

"You got something else to spit out?" Leander tilted his head, a lazy smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Something else?" Dylan's jaw tightened. "You opened your mouth and told me to scram. Now you ask if something's wrong?"

His family tree carried weight even back here on the Seagate. The people treated him like a governor's heir. Rodrick Wave—the mind behind Wave Alliance—greeted him with a two-handed handshake and a stiff grin. The senior heirs of the four elite families around Highcliff, including Gareth, Daphne, and the rest, were considered his equals at most.

Leander held none of those titles, yet he hurled the word "scram" at him. No heir of the Morgan-Royce line walked away from that.

Jealousy burned deeper when he watched Daphne lean into Leander like a woman who had already picked her future.

"Dude, I could toss you into that lake for the tone you're using."

Dylan ignored the warning glare on Daphne's face. His focus was entirely on Leander.

"Oh?" Leander had already planned to leave with Daphne. He preferred not to waste breath on people who climbed their own family's influence. Dylan insisted on pressing the issue.

A spark of amusement appeared in Leander's eyes.

A crowd thickened around them—Daphne's fanboys, campus gossip hunters, and every student drawn by the scent of drama. Highcliff University had never witnessed a triangle like this in the open. The curiosity crackled like electricity.

Dylan looked like a lifestyle magazine cover—Versace tailored suit, a Patek Philippe worth hundreds of thousands flashing from his wrist.

Leander wore a plain white tee and a pair of Puma sweats. His face carried calm restraint, yet something sharp and commanding rested between his brows. Standing next to Dylan, he stole the attention without trying.

Rodrick spotted Leander through the crowd. His shoulders snapped stiff before he ducked away into the back row, refusing to get dragged into warning Dylan.

He had known Leander since they were young, and the fear had carved itself into his bones early. When Leander disappeared for a period, Rodrick assumed the nightmare was gone. The nightmare returned—this time wearing titles heavy enough to crush him—Chief Instructor of Wyvern Blade, a major general in the Wyvern Blade, recipient of the Guardian Medal, top rank on the Astria Power Index, and he was the only one listed among International Combat Units.

Rodrick barely understood what half those titles meant. He only knew Leander operated on a level he would never reach.

The gap between them wasn't a ladder. It was a cliff. He knew he wouldn't even glimpse that level in his lifetime.

Watching Dylan puff his chest at someone like that made Rodrick feel something close to pity.

Dylan felt none of it. His eyes stayed cold, his posture carried an air of entitled confidence, and the air around him shifted with the superiority of someone who believed the world existed one rung beneath his feet.

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