From Outcast to Overlord The Unyielding Heir (Leander Ashcroft) novel Chapter 569

Leander threw a punch, fast and clean. The force behind it exploded like a violent storm, hammering forward from the center of his fist without holding anything back.

There was a deep, thunderous blast.

A blood-chilling scream tore through the air, completely drowned out by the raging wind. Everyone felt the pressure crash into them like a tidal wave. Then, right in front of Darian, the air warped into a visible dent shaped like a fist—like a barrier had slammed down between them and Darian, splitting the world in two.

Darian's eyes shifted. His expression flickered with surprise, maybe even disbelief. He hadn't expected Leander to actually hit him. Let alone do it without a second thought.

The power from that punch cracked the sky. But instead of flinching, Darian stood his ground and countered with a punch of his own.

No theatrics. No extra flash. Just raw power from his body. The air right in front of him collapsed into a vacuum as the pressure blasted out. The two punches collided with the impact of warheads detonating. The wind went wild, kicking up a wall of sand so high it nearly blocked the sky.

Back at Yelem Church, even Neil—a newly ascended King Phase—had been knocked dozens of yards back from a direct punch from Leander. But Darian? He didn't budge. He absorbed that punch like it was nothing.

That tiny move spelled out the gap between him and Neil louder than words ever could. There was no comparing a century-hardened King Phase to one who had just broken through.

Ophelia, Cedric, and the others could barely keep their eyes open with the wind and sand cutting across their faces, but it didn't matter. The power radiating off Leander and Darian was impossible to miss.

Ophelia's eyes trembled.

Leander had saved her back in the middle of this cursed desert, and she'd been grateful. But in her mind, he was just some good-looking young guy who happened to pass by.

She never imagined he'd be standing toe-to-toe with the previous leader of the Bulwark Sect—a man even she and Cedric wouldn't dare speak casually to.

And yet here he was, facing him down like it was nothing, commanding a terrifying amount of power. She couldn't even process what she was seeing.

Darian blocked the blow with one arm, face locked in a hard scowl. His eyes were cold and unreadable. "Jeff, you're way too full of yourself!"

His voice was like ice. He wasn't just anyone. He was the legendary head of the Bulwark Sect in the past. Former Imperial Commander. The very same man who used to stand at the right hand of royalty. In his prime, Western elites used to panic at the mere mention of his name.

But Leander hadn't shown him the slightest bit of respect. He'd attacked without hesitation. That was nothing short of a challenge to everything Darian stood for.

It had been over a hundred years since he'd been in a real fight. Across both the East and West, barely anyone dared throw hands with him anymore.

And yet, Leander was the first one in a century to do exactly that.

"I already said it. Anyone who lays a hand on the Oasis dies! And besides, I've been dying to see for myself what makes a century-old King Phase so special."

Leander's voice was calm, even casual. But behind his eyes, a wild spark of battle-lust lit up like fire.

Even Darian froze when he saw it.

"Jeff, you and I are both Astria elites. Both Eastern King Phases. We should be fighting side by side, not going at each other's throats.

"This Westerian Divinity Vault? You and I are the only King Phases in the area. We could both go in, take what we need, boost our power. Everyone wins.

"So, why are you so set on throwing down with me in the middle of this desert?"

A hundred years ago, Darian wouldn't have wasted a second. He would've thrown down with Leander without saying a word, no matter who he was or what his background looked like.

But a century of growth and the bloodbath that was the last King Phase war had changed him. He wasn't some royal brute anymore. He understood what actually mattered now. He didn't start fights with strong opponents unless there was no other choice.

And the truth was, he didn't see a good reason to fight Leander. They were on the same side, both Eastern forces. Was one vault really worth it?

But Leander didn't flinch. He took a step forward.

"Then, don't fight me. Just grab your people and all those guys from Bladewick and get out of here. This vault belongs to me."

In front of everyone, Leander slowly raised his hand. His long, pale fingers opened, then curled into a tight fist.

"If we're betting, there should be limits. "I'll throw one punch. If that one punch doesn't settle it, I'll walk away."

As the words left his mouth, a swirl of blue light lit up around his knuckles. His joints cracked with sharp little snaps, one after another. The energy in the air surged around him like a storm drawn into his orbit.

To everyone watching, Leander looked like a spear aimed at the sky. His energy cut straight through the atmosphere like a knife. It was like he didn't even exist in the same world as them anymore. His eyes lit up, glowing like a divine weapon.

Trinity Strike Technique: Earthshaker.

He pulled his fist back—then drove it forward.

There was a violent crash.

In that split second, Darian—century-old King Phase and former Imperial powerhouse—snapped to full alert. His pupils shrank. His face hardened. His muscles surged, swelling beneath his skin like steel walls locking into place. His arms came up, crossing tight in front of him.

Another blast rang out.

Leander's devastating punch landed clean against Darian's forearms.

A sharp grinding screech cut through the air as Darian's feet dug into the sand.

The sheer force shoved him backward. After a few tense seconds, the energy finally dissipated and the world fell quiet again.

Everyone looked back at Darian. And when they saw what had happened, every face froze.

The heel of Darian's foot had just tapped that line. Not by much. Just half an inch over.