Chapter 407
The banquet hosted by the Riverstone family ended with Leander crushing them completely.
Three days later, the Riverstone family disappeared from Highcliffe entirely. Their once-famous, bustling villa was now an abandoned husk-silent halls, no one left.
“My God, who exactly is Jeff Ashcroft? Even a powerhouse like the Riverstone family got wiped out in one blow p>
In a Highcliffe teahouse, several top-tier figures who hadn’t attended the banquet gathered, each wearing the same unnerved expression.
“Come on. Jeff is the chairman of Jeff Enterprises, and he’s also a Wyvern Blade General. Even Mr. Frostwell—one of the scions’ own secretaries-personally came to pin the Guardian Medal on him. The Riverstone family walked right into the fire. They brought this on themselves p>
A middle-aged man holding a small jade statue nodded, shock flickering in his eyes. “There’s more. He kicked the Riverstone family out of Highcliffe with a single sentence. Reliable sources say the military issued orders from above-Dorian Riverstone, one of their second-generation general, was dismissed. Lachlan Riverstone, their provincial governor, has been taken in by the Central Authority for investigation p>
“The Riverstone family’s two main pillars are gone for good p>
Silence fell. A chill settled over the room.
A giant like the Riverstone family had been crushed in an instant. Their foundation was wiped out, revealing just how terrifying Jeff truly was.
After the banquet, Highcliffe lost an old noble clan but gained a name that now made every elite family shudder-Jeff Ashcroft.
Meanwhile, the man at the center of all this was lounging in the farthest corner of Highcliffe University’s library, legs crossed, reading a book.
It wasn’t a novel. It was a collection of strange sights and events from around the world.
Most people saw those stories as mysteries, full of superstition. For him, they were prime material for strengthening his spiritual strength.
He skimmed through odd incidents recorded across Astria until his gaze stopped on a report from the Warring Era.
“A dragon falling at Whitville?” His eyes narrowed.
The report claimed that over eighty years ago, near the river mouth at Whitville in Stillburn, several fishermen had seen a dragon drop from the sky and die right in front of them.
The weather had been scorching, and the corpse decayed fast. Only a skeleton remained after a few days.
Experts investigated back then and concluded the bones belonged to a whale. Others insisted it was an ancient elephant. Everyone pushed a safe explanation.
Leander closed the book, a faint smile touching his lips.
“So Deepcoil Dragons really exist p>
Most people would shrug off the report as a quirky old story. He knew better. That thing wasn’t a whale or some ancient elephant. It was an actual Deepcoil Dragon.
Deepcoil Dragons resembled true dragons and carried ancient dragon blood, yet weren’t full dragons. They could only glide low to the ground. They couldn’t ride clouds or breathe fire and water like real dragons. They appeared only rarely across Astria’s long history-maybe once in a century.
If a Deepcoil Dragon died at Whitville, it means more could still be there. Deepcoil Dragons were magical beasts with true dragon blood. Old texts recorded that their bodies contained a core—and that core was one of the best catalysts for strengthening spiritual strength.
“If I get a Deepcoil Dragon Core and refine it, my spiritual strength will soar. Even if I can’t reach Spirit Breakthrough immediately, I’ll at least hit peak Spirit Convergence p>
His eyes burned with determination.
David’s appearance had shown him that the strong people he’d met so far were only the beginning. His Dragonclaw had clearly not been used at full strength. If he had gone all out, Leander would have had only one option—the Devourer Form at its peak.
There were more threats-the
Dragon Emperor, who once stood at
the top of Astria’s
world, the
Arbitration Office, which nearly killed.
even him, and the Celestial Mirror’s
warning of an upcoming doomsday. The pressure was real.
Standing still wasn’t an option. Leander needed more power to protect the people around him.
“Looks like it’s time to visit Whitville p>
He stood and returned the book to the shelf. His phone buzzed just then.
A reminder popped up, and his pupils tightened.
“December eighth… Tomorrow is Ms. Shire’s memorial p>
Two years ago, when he returned to the Mornwick-Cloudveil Edge, he learned Hazel had died from illness Last year, on December ninth, he was deep in seclusion, training the Devourer Form, and missed the memorial.
He had regarded her as his second mother, and she had treated him like her own son. Not making it back in time to save her was the regret of his life. He wasn’t going to miss it again.
He dialed Daphne.
“Dani, come with me to the Mornwick-Cloudveil Edge. I’m taking you to visit someone important p>
At the airport near the Mornwick border, Leander and Daphne stepped off the plane. Daphne held his arm and looked up at him, curious. “Ander, who are we meeting? You have family here p>
Leander paused, his expression shifting.
“She’s the person I respected most in this life besides my mom. When I lost my martial power and nearly died, she saved me, fed me, and treated me like her own child’s
fell sick two years ago and passed. We’re here to pay our respects.
Today is her memorial p>
Daphne had been with him again for over two months, yet she had never seen him
look like this. She squeezed his hand gently, offering silent comfort.
He steadied himself and gave her a small smile. They headed toward the exit— when a figure suddenly crossed their path.
A tall man in a blood-red trench coat, his shoulders broader than most. He had a striking, sharp-featured face and deep blue eyes with flecks of red stirring within.
As he passed, he tilted his head slightly toward Leander, a strange smile touching his lips.
Daphne’s heart thudded wildly. Meeting his gaze felt like getting pulled into a black hole.
Leander lifted his eyes. That odd sensation he’d felt a week earlier surged again. “A spiritual master p>
His heart tightened. One glance was enough-the youth was a peak-level powerhouse, stronger than even Galen. He was also the only spiritual master he had met who possessed such frightening strength.
His age made it even more shocking. He looked twenty-six or twenty-seven, yet his power surpassed the top transcendent masters.
Why would someone like him show up at a remote Mornwick border airport?
The blond youth stepped into the sunlight, his hair glowing gold. His smile
deepened.
“Jeff p>
He flashed a row of snow-white teeth.
“First time meeting. Let me introduce myself. I’m Fergus Lynch. You can also call me
Son of Judgment p>