"Hmm? Look at that. The Leonhart Clan's mid-tier strength isn't any weaker than the Drakes."
"Unbelievable... we all underestimated them."
"They've been hiding so carefully. If this battle hadn't broken out, who knows how much longer they would've stayed in the shadows?"
"…True."
From rooftops and distant courtyards across Blazecity, countless cultivators observed the clash below. Their eyes were wide with astonishment.
The city's atmosphere was saturated with tension and smoke. But one fact was clear:
The Leonhart Clan had just become more terrifying than ever. Previously the clan was respected just because of their Ancestor's power, but now the whole clan seemed to have somehow gotten stronger .
The Drakes were one of Blazecity's oldest families, with more than three hundred years of heritage and over ten thousand members. In contrast, the Leonharts had only been in the city for less than thirty years, with no more than four hundred blood relatives to their name.
And yet, despite the staggering difference in numbers and legacy…
They were going blow-for-blow with the Drakes.
In both elite and core battle strength, the Leonharts had matched their rivals head-on.
"Che.. this is the strength for the mighty Drake Clan?" Leon sneered, his voice taunting as he traded blows with Brandon Drake.
Despite Brandon having the higher cultivation Core Break Stage, Third Layer, Leon had already stabilized the fight and even turned the tide. The aura flowing around him pulsed with raw mastery, swirling into precise techniques.
He wasn't just stronger. He was fighting with grace, with control.
And it was all thanks to the Melded Unity Codex, the top-tier cultivation method passed down to him by Ancestor Leo.
This wasn't a mere high-tier technique. It was something that could rival a true Human-grade legacy scripture priceless even in the Dusk Empire. Few fifth-rank clans could boast such a thing, let alone comprehend it.
If not for the fact that he'd only recently begun cultivating the Codex, and hadn't yet fully grasped its deeper martial arts…
Brandon Drake wouldn't have lasted even this long.
"Hmph!" Brandon scowled. "Don't get cocky. Your clan wouldn't have stood a chance if not for that so-called Ancestor spoon-feeding you!"
His tone was sharp, but his voice cracked toward the end.
He'd already figure something as the sudden improvement of Leonhart's could only be possible due to their ancestor's help.
Most of the Leonhart forces weren't even blood relatives. The bulk of their elite guards came from the personal training camp created by Ancestor Leo himself, handpicked from Blazecity's orphans and poor cultivators, cultivated from childhood into disciplined warriors.
Each of them possessed at least mid-tier aptitude. Anyone who fell below were removed and reassigned to maintain outer clan assets.
That's why, while the Drakes and Storms squabbled over scraps, the Leonharts quietly built an army beneath their noses.
"These men may not share our blood," Leon said calmly, "but they bear our banner. They've trained with our elders, learned from Ancestor Leo, and bled for this clan. That makes them Leonharts—more than your blood's ten thousand paper tigers."
He gestured to the battlefield.
"Take a look, Brandon. Your people lie dead in the streets—washed away like rot. We've lost fewer numbers, and most of ours are only wounded."
He smiled, his tone almost casual. "And you call yourselves the mighty noble clan?"
Brandon's expression twisted in fury.
Damn him. Damn this entire clan!
He wanted to smash his fist into Leon's face, to wipe the smug look off once and for all.
But he couldn't.
He didn't have enough strength.
"Enough games," Leon said suddenly, his voice turning cold.
"This farce ends now."
As if answering his will, a crimson pill flickered into his palm.
Brandon's face changed instantly.
"A… Berserker Pill? A third-grade combat elixir!?"
He took a step back, eyes wide in disbelief.
"How do you...why do you even have one?! That kind of treasure—!"
Leon didn't answer.
With a single fluid motion, he crushed the pill between his teeth and swallowed it whole.
A pulse of red energy erupted from his chest like a tidal wave. His aura exploded outward, flames of blood-essence burning in the air around him. The very street beneath his feet cracked and trembled.
His cultivation of Core Break Stage, Third Layer… surged to the Fourth.
Then the Fifth.
Then—
Sixth Layer Peak!
Brandon's heart skipped a beat. He felt like the temperature around him had dropped ten degrees—like blades of cold, almost freezing wind were scraping across his skin.
Before he could react—
"Die."
Leon's voice thundered like the gods themselves.
A gigantic, blood-forged palm manifested in the sky above him—his signature move, Unity Palm, fully empowered by berserk energy.
BOOOOOOM!
The force of the strike shattered the clouds above. Wind roared. The air twisted like a cyclone.
Brandon froze under Unity Palm's pressure as his instinct screamed 'Dodge this attack or you will die'.
He suddenly reached into his ring fighting the pressure from his opponents move and crushed a pale silver talisman—his most precious life-saving treasure.
A translucent barrier of silver light came out of the talisman and instantly wrapped around him.
The blow landed just a breath later.
The street exploded and A shockwave spread across the city, rattling windows and knocking tiles off rooftops across several districts.
Smoke and dust rose like a storm cloud.
When it finally cleared after some breath's time… Brandon stood dazed and trembling behind the flickering remains of the barrier from the life saving talisman.
He was alive but just barely.
The shield had held only barely.
Though the same couldn't be said for his pride.
"You... you lunatic!" he shrieked like a pig, his eyes red with disbelief.
"That was a Berserker Pill! You can't just use those like candy! Do you have any idea how vicious the backlash is? You'll be bedridden for weeks, maybe months! What kind of maniac—!?"
But Leon just stood there, his face was now pale but his blood still boiling.
His lips curved into a cold, exhausted smile.
"I am a man who's not afraid to burn for this clan."
"This clan gave me a name when I had none. They gave me a home when I had nowhere to go. And now? I'll give them everything in return. "
Brandon's hands clenched into fists. He wanted to scream and beat this bastard up.
That talisman had been his greatest insurance the biggest treasure he'd acquired in his entire life.
But now it was gone, shattered in one reckless gamble.
And this bastard…
This absolute madman had forced him to waste it.
"You're insane," Brandon muttered, his voice hoarse. "You're a damn lunatic."
Leon didn't reply to his nonsense rambling.
He just stared at him with eyes glowing faintly red, his breath ragged from the backlash but still unyielding.
In that moment… Brandon felt a chill run down his spine.
He finally understood.
The Leonhart Clan wasn't just dangerous because of their secret techniques or Ancestor Leo's legacy.
They were dangerous… because their people were willing to bleed.
Willing to sacrifice even if they were not related to each other by blood.
Willing to fight like madmen for each other.
And that kind of madness… was something no strategy of theirs could prepare for.