Grand Return System

Sparks on the City Wall

Many people had gathered and were discussing the situation outside on the city wall.

Smoke drifted beyond the battlements in long dark ribbons, and the scent of scorched timber rode the hot wind. Ashford City’s walls, once symbols of safety, had become crowded watch posts where anxious cultivators, wandering mercenaries, and ordinary townsfolk pressed shoulder to shoulder, all staring toward the burning wilds.

Rumors moved faster than arrows.

Fear moved faster still.

"Hey, have you heard? Last night, a few experts from the Lavahound family encountered an extremely powerful Beast in the near valley."

A bearded man in worn leather lowered his voice as if even the walls might overhear.

Beside him another whispered back,

"I heard that it was a Primal Ancient Magical Beast with the strength of at least an early-stage sage Realm. It almost wiped out the Lavahound family’s hundreds of troops."

A third person cut in urgently.

"I heard about it too! Someone discovered that the Beast has already headed towards the deep forest."

"The Lavahound family and the Zain family have already sent a few experts to track them down. I wonder how they are doing now."

"The appearance of the mountain treasure this time has attracted almost half of the ferocious beasts in the uninhabited region. The entire Eastern Wasteland is in chaos."

"I wonder if Ashford City can be defended. Looks like we have to make plans early."

The discussion rose and fell in waves.

Some voices trembled.

Some tried to sound brave.

None sounded certain.

Leon fell into deep thought when he heard the discussions.

His expression was solemn.

The amethyst embroidery on his midnight robes stirred in the wind as he stood silently, gaze fixed on the flaming horizon.

"Looks like the riot this time is even more intense than the last time. I wonder where those ferocious beasts are now?" Leon muttered to himself.

He had come for the Inferno Swift Bird.

He had wanted to come to Ashford City to gather information, but he didn’t seem to have gained anything.

Most of the people who saw the Inferno Swift Bird had been eaten by it.

The thought made his eyes narrow.

A predator that left almost no witnesses.

Troublesome.

Very troublesome.

News was difficult to bring back.

And silence, sometimes, was more ominous than bad news.

Harry said nothing as he watched Leon fall into long thought.

He didn’t know what Leon was thinking and didn’t dare disturb him.

For once, even his usual swagger had quieted.

He leaned lazily against a stone parapet, scanning the crowd in boredom.

Then suddenly his eyes sharpened.

Recognition flashed.

And mischief followed.

"Yo, isn’t this Young Master Freddy? I haven’t seen you for a few days and you’re already so sh*tty?"

Harry burst out laughing.

The familiar face to the left of the city wall was Freddy Lavahound.

His old enemy.

His favorite target.

At this moment Freddy was in a sorry state.

His clothes were tattered.

His sleeves were singed.

Dust and dried blood marked his robe.

Clearly he had just returned from outside the city and had yet to rest.

But Harry—

Harry saw none of the tragedy first.

Only opportunity.

How could he let go of such a rare chance?

He had not forgotten Freddy’s mocking expression when he was beaten up by Leon last time.

That humiliation had fermented in his heart for weeks.

And now heaven had delivered revenge to him wrapped in torn clothes.

Harry grinned so hard it was almost wicked.

He sauntered closer.

Hands behind his back.

Head tilted.

Pure provocation.

"Tsk tsk... what happened, Young Master Freddy? Wrestled a wild boar and lost?"

A few people nearby snorted.

Freddy’s jaw tightened.

His expression turned even uglier upon seeing Harry.

He said gloomily,

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

Harry’s eyes lit up.

Fight?

He nearly laughed.

"Oh?" Harry folded his arms. "You look half dead and still want to act fierce?"

Freddy stepped forward.

"And you still talk too much."

Harry clicked his tongue.

"No, no... I’m just amazed. Last time you strutted around like some young overlord. Now you look like you crawled out of a burning chicken coop."

Several onlookers turned to watch.

The tension of disaster gave way, for a moment, to the much simpler entertainment of two rivals snarling at each other.

Freddy’s hand twitched toward his sword.

Harry noticed.

And smirked wider.

"What? You going to pull a blade because your pride got scratched?"

Freddy sneered.

"At least I was outside fighting while you hid on a mountain pretending to cultivate."

That hit.

Harry’s grin stiffened.

Then he scoffed.

"Pretending?"

He stepped closer too.

Their shoulders nearly touched.

"You think I came here to hear barking from a defeated dog?"

Freddy shot back instantly.

"And I didn’t ask for a clown."

Harry blinked.

Then barked a laugh.

"Oh, he has teeth today."

Freddy glared.

For a moment old hostility simmered.

But beneath it... there was fatigue.

Harry caught it.

The dark circles.

The cracked lips.

The scorched sleeves.

This wasn’t just Freddy being miserable.

He had been through something.

Harry’s tone shifted—only slightly.

"What happened out there?"

Freddy hesitated.

That hesitation said more than words.

Then he muttered,

"We found one of those beasts."

Harry frowned.

"And?"

Freddy exhaled.

"And it nearly slaughtered us."

Silence.

Even Harry lost his joke for a breath.

Freddy continued bitterly,

"My cousin died."

Harry looked at him, suddenly unable to produce another insult.

But because he was Harry—

he covered discomfort with bluster.

"Hmph. So that explains why you look like trash."

Freddy rolled his eyes.

"And you’re still annoying."

Harry leaned in.

"You missed me."

"In your dreams."

"You did."

"No."

"You definitely did."

A reluctant corner of Freddy’s mouth twitched.

Almost a smile.

Almost.

Then Harry lowered his voice.

"Still want to fight?"

Freddy stared at him.

Then said,

"Later."

Harry grinned.

"Good. I’d hate to beat up a wounded man."

Freddy snorted.

"Beat me?"

"Yes."

"With what cultivation?"

"With superior handsomeness."

Freddy looked offended.

Then, against his will—

laughed.

Actually laughed.

People around them relaxed.

The pressure broke.

Harry immediately ruined the moment.

"But seriously, you look terrible."

Freddy’s face darkened again.

"There it is. I knew the idiot wasn’t gone."

Harry raised a brow.

"Idiot? Say that louder."

Freddy stepped in.

"Idiot."

Harry shoved him lightly.

Freddy shoved back.

The old rhythm returned.

Rivalry.

Familiar.

Strangely alive amidst disaster.

But beneath the banter, both understood something unspoken.

The world outside had changed.

And childish grudges felt smaller.

Still—

neither would ever admit it.

Harry pointed at Freddy’s torn robe.

"You really should thank me."

"For what?"

"For improving your reputation. People now assume you fought heroically instead of just getting chased."

Freddy’s temple twitched.

"I’m going to kill you."

Harry spread his arms.

"Then do it."

Freddy stepped forward again, eyes narrowing.

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