Borrowed Prestige

"Harry Taylor... what do you mean? Do you want to fight?"

Freddy Lavahound’s voice cracked like a whip across the crowded city wall, drawing more than a few sidelong glances.

Smoke from the burning wildlands drifted over Ashford City in gray sheets, turning the noon sun dim and copper-red. The stone battlements were lined with anxious cultivators, mercenaries, and wandering survivors whispering of Ancient Magical Beasts, ruined villages, and fire swallowing forests whole.

Yet in the middle of that heavy atmosphere, Harry Taylor looked as though he had just found the greatest entertainment in the world.

He folded his arms and clicked his tongue.

"Tsk, I can fight ten of you in your current state."

The words landed with deliberate insult.

"You..."

Freddy’s face darkened instantly.

Veins stood out near his temples. Dust still clung to his torn robes, and dried blood stained one sleeve from whatever disaster he had barely returned from. In such a miserable state, Harry’s ridicule cut especially deep.

He took a step forward, fingers twitching as mana stirred.

For a moment, it looked as though he truly meant to attack.

Then his eyes shifted.

Past Harry.

Toward the silent black-robed figure standing behind him.

And all the fire in him froze.

His face turned pale.

His pupils contracted.

He...

Why is he here too!

That thought struck like thunder.

Freddy’s breath hitched.

He had not forgotten Leon.

How could he?

That calm white-clad figure from months ago—back when Leon still wore lighter robes before taking on the midnight amethyst attire of Amethyst Summit Division—had nearly become the nightmare that buried the Lavahound household.

The memory rushed back so vividly Freddy almost felt that old terror again.

The pressure.

The sword intent.

The moment he had brushed death through his own arrogance.

Because of one foolish provocation, he had almost dragged his entire family into ruin.

And now... that same man stood here.

Silent.

Watching.

Leon’s long black hair stirred faintly in the heated wind. Purple eyes unreadable. Expression calm as still water.

Which somehow made him even more frightening.

Back then, he had casually mentioned he might come to Ashford City again.

Freddy had believed it empty talk.

A joke.

Now he wished it had been.

"Young Master..."

Several Lavahound experts behind Freddy quickly stepped closer, their faces tight.

Their fear was harder to hide than his.

One old cultivator whispered urgently,

"Do not be rash."

Another muttered under his breath,

"The Taylor family is no longer what it was... and they have Amethyst Summit behind them."

They knew.

Everyone knew.

Since attaching themselves to Celestis Academy’s Amethyst Summit Division, the Taylor household had risen so quickly that their power now faintly surpassed the Lavahounds.

Picking a fight with Harry now was no longer childish rivalry.

It was courting calamity.

Harry noticed the strange shift in expression.

He turned slightly.

His eyes met Leon.

Then understanding dawned.

A wicked grin spread across his face.

Ah... so that was it.

He nearly laughed aloud.

I thought I had become too imposing lately and scared them with my own presence...

Turns out they’re scared of Senior.

That realization filled Harry with the kind of joy only shameless men could appreciate.

Wasn’t this practically heaven handing him a chance to show off?

He straightened immediately.

Chest out.

Chin raised.

Even his posture changed.

It had to be said—following a true giant made it very hard to stay low-key.

And Harry had no intention of staying low-key.

In that case...

He would not stand on ceremony.

He coughed theatrically.

"Ahem... Come on, aren’t you awesome? Come at me together. I’m going to fight ten today."

He pointed directly at Freddy, then lazily swept a finger across the experts behind him as if selecting vegetables at market.

The arrogance was unbearable.

Several bystanders nearly choked trying not to laugh.

Freddy trembled.

Not from fear now.

From rage.

"You..."

His jaw clenched so hard it made sound.

His expression twisted almost feral.

Yet he did not move.

Because Leon was there.

And that was enough.

The older experts behind Freddy, however, reacted far differently.

They exchanged glances.

Then one middle-aged elder, suddenly stepped forward with a warm laugh so fake it nearly sparkled.

"Haha, Young Master Harry must be joking! Our strength is weak, how can we dare challenge Young Master Harry?"

He cupped his hands.

Voice oily with flattery.

"Young Master Harry is truly extraordinary. Heroic. Majestic. Your bearing resembles a celestial descended among mortals."

A few nearby cultivators almost spat from holding back laughter.

Harry blinked.

Then his eyes widened.

Ah...

Awesome...

So this...

This was what it felt like to be pretentious.

His soul nearly floated.

He had dreamed of moments like this.

Following Leon down the mountain had indeed been the right decision.

Even heaven was helping him act cool.

He put his hands behind his back and imitated Leon’s usual aloof posture.

Though far less convincing.

"At least you know your place."

He spoke with the gravity of some ancient sovereign.

"Since you’re so sensible, I won’t make things difficult for you today."

The tone was absurdly lofty.

He was using Leon’s prestige to bully others and clearly enjoying every second.

Even Leon, who had remained silent all this time, seemed to have the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth.

Perhaps amusement.

Perhaps disbelief.

Harry noticed and immediately pushed harder.

He stepped closer to Freddy.

"What happened, Young Master Freddy? Didn’t you say you wanted to fight?"

He tilted his head.

"Or has the wild beaten courage out of you?"

Freddy’s fingers dug into his palm.

Blood nearly surfaced.

But he endured.

Because humiliation was preferable to death.

The city wind blew ash between them.

For a long breath, no one spoke.

Then Freddy forced the words out through clenched teeth.

"I admit defeat today. You win... Let’s go."

His glare toward Harry was venomous enough to poison stone.

Yet he turned.

And ready to left.

The Lavahound experts followed swiftly, almost relieved.

Their retreat stirred murmurs all across the wall.