From Outcast to Overlord The Unyielding Heir (Leander Ashcroft) novel Chapter 557

There was a sprawling bamboo forest by the Eastern Sea's shore. The green stalks seemed to loom over every living being as they tried their best to pierce the sky.

One could find large bamboo leaves flitting down to the ground as the bamboo stood in defiance against man. Yet, if one looked closer, they would be able to find a cabin tucked away between the mountain groves.

This bamboo forest with its dangerous beasts was supposed to be a no-man's land. Yet, someone was actually living here.

The cabin wasn't much to look at as it was made entirely out of bamboo. It seemed hewn together somehow without a single nail or peg to hold it in place. The cabin felt like a building built out of LEGO blocks, with how seamlessly the bamboo interlocked with each other.

It was obvious that whoever built it was a master craftsman.

There were a few split logs scattered on the ground, and a hatchet stuck in a block of wood. Still, what was supposed to be a messy courtyard exuded a strange sense of harmony.

Meanwhile, the few household items that could be seen through the window had been neatly arranged. Everything seemed to be where it needed to be, with not a single speck of dust in sight. That could only mean that the owner was likely to be a meticulous person.

However, they were nowhere to be found.

Moss had crawled up the massive rock outside the cabin. Nevertheless, the words etched on the rock could still be seen as clear as day—Verdellis Cabin.

The calligraphy didn't seem like anything special. Still, one would notice a seemingly defiant aura exuding from it if they took a closer look. It was an aura that could sweep whoever was standing before it right off their feet with the force of a cavalry 10,000 strong.

Just then, a tall figure could be seen ambling through the bamboo forest. He had six scars on his scalp, scars that could only be formed through scarification. He had a long white beard, a string of rosary beads around his neck and wrists.

His lips were moving as he wandered around the bamboo forest.

Oddly enough, he made no sound despite stepping on the thick blanket of bamboo leaves, making him ever so mysterious.

A few minutes later, he finally made his way to the cabin, clasped his hands together, and murmured solemnly, "Amen."

Then, he continued, "I have come a long way, old friend. Aren't you going to invite me in for tea?"

Leander would've recognized this mysterious man if he were here. After all, this was none other than Master David Branson. The same person who had gone all the way to Highcliffe to stop Galen from blowing himself up.

Nonetheless, David had also been a good friend of the most powerful man in Astria—the Dragon Emperor.

When he spoke, his words seemed to echo through the valley. However, it did not carry any malice. Rather, his voice seemed to meld with nature itself.

Alas, all he got in return was silence. David continued to stand by the cabin, silently waiting.

The bamboo leaves danced with the wind, filling the air with their whispers. David didn't budge as he felt the breeze flutter. Instead, he thumbed his rosary beads as he murmured hymns under his breath.

This stall lasted for 30 minutes. Yet, he had never once taken another step toward the interloper.

Suddenly, a figure appeared deep in the bamboo forest, his gait uneven and tentative. It was a middle-aged man with a scruffy beard. He looked unkempt with his long, messy hair that he'd thrown over his shoulders.

He was carrying a stack of firewood on his back. Now that he was closer, one could tell that his swaying steps were just an illusion. Instead, his steps were steady as he strolled through the bamboo forest like just an ordinary Joe.

Still, it was strange how he, too, made no sound despite trampling the leaves on his way home.

He brusquely walked past David, saying nothing. The two men continued doing whatever it was they were doing, behaving as though they were mere strangers.

The middle-aged man's eyes shone. His eyes didn't seem to fit the rough hemp clothes he was wearing. Regardless, he didn't bother offering David a stool, nor did he question David. Instead, he rolled up his sleeves and went about chopping wood.

Alas, it didn't look like he had the strength to do so, what with how his hatchet had only left a shallow cut on the bark.

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