Just as the dust began to settle and Leon turned to leave the ruined plaza, a small but audible whisper echoed from the side of the marketplace.
"Young Master Tianqi his breathing was unstable just now!"
The Leonhart guards stiffened after hearing the words of a nearby person who seemed like a medicinal expert judging from his clothes. From across the field, Brandon Drake paused mid-air as he started to check his youngest son's condition.
'No... He's actually in bad shape—might even be crippled. I never thought that punk's punch could do this much damage.'
He whipped his head and stared straight into Leon while his face was now filled with fury.
"You think this is over? You dare leave after crippling my son?!"
With a roar that shook the marketplace, he surged back toward the Leonhart pupil's.
Leon's eyes narrowed as he felt the killing intent emitting from Brandon.
'Is this part of their scheme... or is that brat truly one breath away from the grave?'
He really didn't wanted to fight Brandon fully as he was at Core Break stage level 2 which was a step below Brandon.
In a world like theirs, there was an absolute difference between a clan with a Core Break cultivator and one without. A single such expert could define a clan's standing in the eyes of the Dusk Empire. With one, a force could stand tall as a recognized Seventh-Rank Power. Without one? Merely Eighth-Rank, dancing on the edge of insignificance.
Sure, to the imperial capital or the grand sects, both were small fry. But here in Blazecity, titles like that could tilt the balance of power entirely.
"Brandon Drake, if your family wants to make a move against the Leonhart Clan, then just do it openly. Why bother with these clumsy little games?"
He gestured around them—the smashed tiles, the frightened civilians peeking from behind stalls and windows, and the motionless body of Tianqi Drake that lay in the arms of Brandon Drake.
"In the end, strength is all that matters. So if you have something against us show it with your fist."
Brandon still looked furious and ready to jump at Leon at any given moment but inside his head he was still calculating the odds of his victory against his opponent. If this was previous times he would have thrashed Leon in just a few breath's time as the difference between Blood stage and Core Break was vast.
But now…
Now Leon stood tall before him, clad not just in strength, but in the confidence of someone who had planned to fight him.
Still, he couldn't back down.
Not like this. Not with half the damn city watching his heir, his blood, get crushed like an insect by a Leonhart Elder's whelp.
After a moment of silent calculation, Brandon gritted his teeth, reached into his sleeve, and pulled out a crimson talisman.
With a flick of his fingers
Whoosh—BOOM!
The fire sigil ignited midair, blazing upward into the sky. The moment it burst into a burning lotus of light, howls echoed across the rooftops.
From all directions, shadows leapt into the air.
Across towers, rooftops, and merchant pavilions, Drake Clan warriors soared into the plaza, robes flaring as they followed the signal flare. Three of them radiated crushing auras, the unmistakable signatures of Core Break Stage cultivators. The rest were high-tier Bone Stage or beyond, landing in disciplined formations behind their patriarch.
"You forced my hand Leon..," Brandon muttered as this was a last resort option that they had prepared incase the Leonhart's planned something unexpected.
The streets below emptied in seconds seeing this new scene unfold.
Doors slammed shut and windows darkened. Even the whispers of the boldest watchers faded as civilians backed away from the confrontation.
But not everyone left.
On the balconies and rooftops beyond the plaza, seasoned cultivators mercenaries, wandering sword saints, and alchemists gathered to watch.
Many were strangers to Blazecity. Some from Redridge's deeper districts. Others perhaps from Ling Province far to the north. But they all shared one trait: experience.
"Three Core Break Stage elders in addition to Brandon himself… that's already four," one muttered.
"And don't forget their old patriarch," said another, voice low. "He may not have appeared, but if he's still alive, that's five total."
"Five Core Break cultivators? That's a declaration of war."
"But it's not that simple," a third cut in. "Didn't Leon just block Brandon's full-strength blow earlier? Alone?"
"Exactly," someone whispered. "And if even half the rumors about the Leonhart ancestor are true…"
The plaza brimmed with tension.
In the center, Brandon stood tall, now bolstered by his approaching elders. Their eyes locked on Leon with mixed expressions some wary, others already burning with battle intent.
"You're bold to challenge me, Leon," Brandon said coldly. "But I wonder… what will your clan do when you're no longer breathing?"
Then, sneering, he added, "Do you think that old monster you worship will save you from your own arrogance?"
That was the final straw.
The quiet chill on Leon's face twisted into a rare flicker of fury.
"Enough," he said sharply. "You dare insult our ancestor?"
"I gave you a chance to back down, Brandon Drake. I warned you to take your son and leave."
Then, without shifting his stance or breaking eye contact, he raised his voice and called out towards the sky
"Where are the warriors of the Leonhart Clan?!"
His voice rang like a battle horn.
And then—
Swish. Swish. Swish.
One by one, silhouettes flickered into view.
From behind stone pillars, from merchant alleys, from shadowed rooftops—
They appeared.
Five figures, each surrounded by swirling currents of power, landed silently behind Leon.
Their robes bore the family sigil of Leonhart combined with their calm face.
Each one radiated the unmistakable aura of the Core Break Stage.
Five more Core Break Stage ,with Leon that made six.
The silence broke instantly.
Gasps echoed across the plaza.
"Six?! SIX Core Break cultivators?!"
"What in the name of the heavens is this?!"
"I thought the Leonhart Clan was declining! This...this is madness!"
Even the seasoned mercenaries atop the walls paled slightly.
Brandon's face, once smug and sneering, twisted into disbelief.
"No… this is impossible. Your clan didn't have this strength in the report . It can't be!"
The crowd of course, didn't know the truth.
They didn't know that until a few weeks ago, these warriors had been Blood Stage cultivators.
They didn't know about the Legacy System, or the War Codex Leo had secretly passed down.
They didn't know about the pills, the soul refinement, the custom-made techniques all paid for in Fate Points and wisdom.
All of it had come from one man the one still watching silently from the shadows, preparing for something more significant.
Leon let the silence stretch for a breath longer.
Then he spoke.
"You asked what happens if I fall here?"
He turned slowly toward the Drake Clan's formation.
"What happens, Brandon, is that five more of my clan members will tear through your whole clan before you take your last breath."
He smiled adding, "And that's without our ancestor even showing up."
Brandon's eyes twitched. His fist clenched as he seethed in rage.
The Leonhart cultivators, now standing behind Leon, didn't say a word but their eyes burned with intense battle intent. Some were clan elders. Others were seasoned cultivators who had waited years for a breakthrough and received it in the past month.
Now they stood united.
Ready.
Unflinching.
"...Tch."
Brandon Drake said nothing further.
But in his heart, a new thought began to take shape an unfamiliar feeling that had not visited him in many years.
Doubt at his own clan's strenght.