Legend of Dragon Son-in-law

One was Truman Ridge, rich enough to rival a nation, the founder of the Boulevard League, and could easily kill Miguel Abbott and Stanislaus Potter.

The other was an enigmatic Western elder who, at a glance, appeared to be formidable.

Having clawed their way to their current positions, these men were as cunning as foxes—they would never recklessly talk or take sides.

Observing in silence at this moment was the best choice.

“Truman Ridge, I need an explanation,” the Saint Heir, eyeing the swordsman in green before him, finally compromised.

They were not yet secure in their position, and it seemed Truman Ridge had a powerful backer, so it was best not to offend him for the time being.

They would wait for an opportunity to strike when they were about to set foot in Five-river Province.

But Truman Ridge clearly had no intention of calming the conflict, and, as the saying goes, kicking an adversary when they’re down, he shook his head and said, “I too require an explanation. You, as the illustrious Saint Heir of Skyfire, sent someone to my residence to assassinate my servant, a heinous act! Without a perfect explanation, I will never agree!”

The swordsman in green stood before him, and before the Saint Heir took action, Truman Ridge had some concerns. After all, he faced a master who had long been renowned. But to his surprise, these swordsmen proved even more formidable, managing to physically sever the Saint Heir’s summoned flames.

After the clash, Truman Ridge’s confidence surged, and with the magnates of both Five-river Province and Ganny Province present, he desired to assert his dominance!

Previously suppressed by Julius Reed, and in compliance with the last wishes of his family’s ancestor, the Ridge family had conducted their affairs with discretion.

But for the wealthy, living ostentatiously was torturously difficult.

Until Finnian Ridge’s generation, the Ridge family could no longer bear to dwell in obscurity, determined to bask in the joys of life.

Yet, just as things were looking up, Finnian, only in his twenties, took his own life.

The other Ridge family members had long been dissatisfied with their ancestor’s directive, questioning why they couldn’t flaunt their wealth—what was the point then?

Their resources and influence were second to none compared to the Leopold Family, who nevertheless became the preeminent family in Five-river Province.

The mighty Ridge family, with hundreds of billions in assets, remained virtually unknown.

Ultimately, the obstacle was Julius Reed.

The title “Mr. Reed” was like a sharp sword dangling over the Ridge family’s heads, causing them tremendous discomfort.

Using Finnian’s death as their rallying cry, the family’s internal calls for change grew louder. And Truman Ridge, having lost his dearest grandson and faced the white-haired sending off the black-haired, began to waver.

If they were to step into the limelight, they had to take this opportunity to decisively slap the Saint Heir’s face and show these magnates who was the most powerful syndicate in Five-river Province!

“Mr. Ridge, are you throwing away the face offered to you?” The Saint Heir, usually commanding respect from every direction, was naturally unwilling to swallow this indignity in front of everyone.

If word spread, Skyfire’s prestige would suffer another blow.

Neither side was willing to swallow their pride, thus they remained deadlocked.

But Truman Ridge held a slight advantage.

“This is your last chance—do you apologize, or not!” Truman Ridge, looking at the Saint Heir before him, pressed again.

Just then, Bridger Davenport from the Three Blade Group stepped forward from the crowd, approaching the two factions: “Gentlemen, I take the liberty of saying, let’s not part in bad spirits! Elder Ridge, as our host, I humbly ask you to make some concessions for our ultimate goal.”

“Ha, Bridger Davenport? I’ve heard of you, called the strategist of the Three Blade Group. But in front of me, you have no right to speak,” Truman Ridge sneered dismissively, waving his hand, “Scram!”

“Mr. Ridge, the fault is mine for poor management, please don’t take it to heart!” Maurice Yarrow rushed over when he saw what was happening, hurriedly pulling Bridger back.

He couldn’t understand why his shrewd advisor would act so foolishly today of all days.

From the moment the Saint Heir set foot ashore, the Three Blade Group had offered full support, even dispatching Bridger to oversee the Old Town area, assisting with the preparations for the Saint Heir’s arrival.

And Maurice Yarrow, on his part, had joined the Boulevard League from its inception, always leading the charge in any matter.

If he were to offend Truman Ridge because of Bridger, then all his efforts thus far would have been for nought.

“I apologize, Mr. Ridge, please forgive me.”

Bridger Davenport clasped his hands together in deep remorse, bowing profoundly to Truman Ridge and inadvertently revealing the Token at his waist.

By the time he had completed all this, his back was already soaked with sweat.

Heaven knows whether the Token would work, if the other party would see it, and if Truman Ridge got angry and killed him on the spot, that would be a major loss.

But he couldn’t disobey the orders of Julius Reed.

What surprised him though, was that Maurice Yarrow, the swordsman in green, turned around and walked towards the Ridge Family’s gate the moment Bridger inadvertently revealed the Token.

Neatly and without a word of nonsense.

Everyone was stunned.

Including Truman Ridge and the Saint Heir.

With Maurice Yarrow, who had been standing between them, now gone, Truman Ridge was left to face the Saint Heir head-on.

“What are you doing?” When Truman Ridge saw Maurice Yarrow leaving, he immediately felt a surge of panic.

What would he use to deal with the Saint Heir once these people left?

“Haha! Mr. Ridge, shall we have that talk now?” The Saint Heir was no fool; seeing Maurice Yarrow leave so decisively, he wouldn’t pass up the opportunity, even though he didn’t know what had occurred.

He sprinted forward and in the blink of an eye, appeared before Truman Ridge.

“What… what do you want!”

Truman Ridge took a frightened step back, and the Ridge Family’s bodyguards immediately gathered around him.

Although these bodyguards were strong fighters, they were nothing compared to Maurice Yarrow!

“Just them?” The Saint Heir, with his hands clasped behind his back, appraised the bodyguards before him: “Mr. Ridge, didn’t you want to settle matters? I’ll give you what you want right now!”

As he spoke, his hands suddenly rose!

Whoosh!

Flames instantly ignited on the bodyguards, and one by one, in just a few seconds, more than a dozen bodyguards turned into men of fire, rolling on the ground and howling in pain.

Hiss!

The onlookers gasped, horrified at the sight.

A group of living people were set ablaze, their agonizing screams slowly fading to ashes!

Such power was certainly not of human making!

“Still want an explanation?” The Saint Heir smiled as he approached Truman Ridge, “Now I’ve killed your bodyguards again, before everyone and in front of you. But as I’ve killed them, what are you going to do about it?”

His words were provocative, and his eyes filled with contempt.

The departure of Maurice Yarrow completely changed the dynamic between the two sides.

Despite racking his brains, Truman Ridge couldn’t understand why Maurice Yarrow turned and left, paying no attention to his welfare.

Now faced with the relentless pressure from the Saint Heir, Truman Ridge felt an extreme sense of helplessness.

“If the Saint Heir kills someone, I dare not demand an explanation. If you kill, then you have killed.” Having lived for so many years, Truman Ridge knew the principle that one must bow their head under another’s roof all too well.

Without the protection of Maurice Yarrow, he had no right to challenge the Saint Heir.

Slap!

Upon hearing his words, the Saint Heir responded with a backhand slap!