Rise of The Abandoned Husband

I watched Bert Mercer's face contort with disbelief as the realization struck him. His most devastating attack—the one that should have obliterated me and half the surrounding area—had just disappeared down my throat like a light snack.

"This can't be happening," he stammered, backing away from me. His hands trembled as he reached for another weapon—a smaller crossbow strapped to his ankle.

"Still want to play?" I asked, stepping forward as the golden light continued to pulse around my body.

Desperation flashed in his eyes as he fired bolt after bolt at me. Each projectile whistled through the air with deadly precision, but they might as well have been raindrops against stone. Some I caught between my fingers. Others I simply allowed to hit me, watching Mercer's growing horror as they disintegrated against my aura.

"Is this really the best the Guild could send?" I taunted. "The feared Unseen Blade, reduced to firing toys at me?"

His face twisted with rage. "You cocky bastard!"

He drew a serrated dagger from his boot and charged at me, abandoning ranged attacks for close combat. I had to admire his courage, if not his intelligence. The blade glinted as he executed a perfect assassination strike—aiming for the vital point between my ribs.

I didn't bother dodging. The dagger connected with my chest and shattered like glass, fragments scattering across the factory floor.

Mercer stared at the broken handle in his hand, momentarily frozen in shock.

"My turn," I said quietly.

My hand shot out, catching him by the throat before he could retreat. I lifted him off the ground with one arm, watching him struggle like a fish on a hook. His feet kicked uselessly in the air as he clawed at my grip.

"The Guild needs to understand something," I said, my voice echoing through the ruined factory. "Every agent they send after me will meet the same fate. Every obstacle they place in my path will be demolished."

"We... are... everywhere," he gasped, still defiant despite his predicament. "Kill me... a hundred more... will come."

"Then I'll kill a hundred more," I replied simply.

With one swift motion, I slammed him against a concrete pillar. The impact cracked the solid column and sent a shudder through what remained of the building's structure. Mercer coughed blood, his ribs shattered.

"Please," he wheezed, no longer the arrogant assassin. "Mercy..."

I leaned closer. "Did you show mercy to the innocent people you've killed? Did your Guild show mercy when they took Isabelle?"

Fear filled his eyes as I placed my palm against his chest. He knew what was coming.

"The Golden Core Extraction Technique is usually reserved for allies," I said conversationally. "A gentle process to harvest energy for healing. But there's nothing gentle about what I'm going to do to you."

I plunged my hand into his chest—not physically breaking the skin, but using my energy to penetrate his spiritual defenses. Mercer screamed, a sound of pure agony that echoed off the walls. His body convulsed as I located his golden core, the crystallized essence of his life force and cultivation.

"This might sting a bit," I warned, before violently ripping the core from his spiritual body.

His scream cut off abruptly as his eyes went glassy. The body that had housed the feared Unseen Blade slumped lifelessly to the ground, an empty shell without its core.

I examined the glowing orb in my hand. Mercer's golden core was unusually large for a Martial Marquis, pulsing with accumulated power from decades of cultivation and countless assassinations.

"Waste not, want not," I murmured, storing it in a jade box I carried for such purposes. The core would be useful later, either for my own advancement or as a bargaining chip.

A sound behind me reminded me that we weren't alone. I turned to see Daphne and Tyler emerging from behind the rubble, their faces pale with shock.

"You killed him," Daphne stated, her voice unnaturally flat.

"He tried to kill me first," I replied, bending down to hoist Mercer's lifeless body over my shoulder. "And he would have succeeded if I were anyone else."

Tyler stepped forward, his calculating gaze fixed on the corpse. "What are you going to do with him?"

"Send a message." I turned toward the exit, Mercer's body slung over my shoulder like a sack of grain. "The Guild needs to understand exactly what they're dealing with."

Daphne and Tyler exchanged glances before falling into step behind me. Neither spoke as we navigated through the ruined factory and out into the night air.

"You're not what I expected, Liam Knight," Tyler finally said as we walked through the darkened streets.

"Few people ever get what they expect from me," I replied.

"The rumors said you were powerful, but this..." Daphne gestured at Mercer's body. "You killed a Peak Form Military Marquis without breaking a sweat. You absorbed an attack that could level buildings."

"And that terrifies you," I observed.

She didn't deny it. "Should it?"

"Only if you stand between me and what I want." I glanced at her. "Are you planning to do that?"

"Not in this lifetime," she said quickly. "I value breathing too much."

Tyler laughed, a short, tense sound. "Smart woman." He studied me with renewed interest. "The Guild will respond to this. You've killed one of their elite."

"I'm counting on it," I said. "In fact, I'm going to make sure they can't ignore it."

We reached the central plaza near the Guild's administrative building. Even at this late hour, a few people were still about, mostly Martial Guild members heading home after late shifts. Their conversations died as they noticed us—or more specifically, the body I carried and the golden aura still faintly visible around me.

Without ceremony, I dropped Mercer's corpse on the plaza's central fountain. The body landed with a heavy thud that echoed in the suddenly silent night.

"Tell your masters what happened here," I announced to the stunned onlookers. "Tell them Liam Knight sends his regards. And tell them I'm coming for what's mine."

The witnesses retreated, some running toward the Guild building, others backing away from me in fear. Only Daphne and Tyler remained, watching with expressions caught between admiration and apprehension.

"That was theatrical," Tyler commented when the plaza had emptied.

"Sometimes theater is necessary," I replied. "Fear can be more effective than force."

"And now?" Daphne asked.

"Now we wait for their response." I turned to face them fully. "You two should distance yourselves from me. What's coming next won't be pretty."

Tyler shook his head. "After what I just witnessed? I think I'll take my chances with you rather than against you."

"Same," Daphne added. "Though I may need several drinks to process what I just saw."

I studied them both, sensing no deception. "Your choice. Just remember you were warned."

We parted ways shortly after, them heading back to safer quarters, me moving toward my next target. Sleep could wait—I had preparations to make.

The following morning, the news of Bert Mercer's death spread through Veridia City like wildfire. I monitored the reaction from a distance, watching as Guild members scurried between buildings like disturbed ants. The body had been discovered exactly where I'd left it, a public display impossible to ignore.

Ms. Hayward arrived at the scene within hours, her normally composed face tight with fury as she examined Mercer's corpse. Even from my observation point across the plaza, I could see her hands trembling—not with fear, but with rage.

She barked orders at subordinates, pointing in various directions. Search parties, no doubt. Looking for me. She wouldn't find me until I wanted to be found.

After consulting with several senior Guild members, she abruptly turned and strode toward a waiting carriage. Her destination was clear: the Aegis Academy, where Broderick awaited.

I followed, keeping to shadows and side streets. The carriage moved swiftly through the city, finally stopping outside the Academy's imposing gates.

Ms. Hayward didn't wait for an escort. She stormed through the entrance, her normally measured pace replaced by urgent steps. I slipped in behind her, using techniques to conceal my presence from the guards.

She headed directly for the training fields where Broderick conducted his daily exercises. Even from a distance, I could see him going through combat forms, his movements precise and powerful. There was no denying his talent, however much I despised him.

"Broderick!" Ms. Hayward called out, interrupting his routine.

He turned, irritation flashing across his face before recognition set in. "Ms. Hayward. This is unexpected."

"We need to accelerate our timeline," she said without preamble. "Bert Mercer is dead."

Broderick's eyebrows rose slightly—the closest he came to showing surprise. "The Unseen Blade? Who could possibly—"

"Liam Knight," she cut in. "He didn't just kill Mercer. He humiliated him. Tore out his golden core and left his body on display in the central plaza."

A dismissive snort escaped Broderick. "Knight is becoming a nuisance."

"A nuisance?" Ms. Hayward hissed. "He absorbed an attack that should have leveled half a district! Witnesses say he devoured it like it was nothing."

For the first time, uncertainty flickered in Broderick's eyes, quickly replaced by arrogance. "Exaggerations. Street gossip."

"I've seen the damage at the factory," she insisted. "Whatever Knight has become, he's no ordinary cultivator. We need to get you to the Mystic Realm immediately. You need Isabelle's bloodline now, before Knight interferes again."

"You're overreacting," Broderick said, though his stance had shifted to something more alert. "Knight is still just a man."

"Is that so?" I called out, stepping into view. Both of them whirled to face me, shock evident on their faces. "Just a man who happens to be standing right behind you, despite all your security."

Ms. Hayward paled. "How did you—"

"Get past your guards? The same way I'll get to Isabelle," I replied casually. "No barrier you build will keep me out. No protector you hire will stop me."

Broderick's face darkened with fury. "You dare come here? After your little display in the plaza?"

I smiled. "I wanted to save you the trouble of looking for me. And to tell you personally that your trip to the Mystic Realm will be permanently delayed."

"You know nothing about our plans," Ms. Hayward snapped, recovering her composure.

"I know everything," I countered. "I know about the blood extraction chambers. I know about the prophecy. And I know exactly what you plan to do with Isabelle's bloodline."

Broderick's hand moved to the sword at his hip. "You talk too much, Knight."

"And you think too little, Broderick. Did you really believe you could take what's mine without consequences? Every step you take toward Isabelle is one step closer to your grave."

Ms. Hayward's eyes narrowed. "Enough of this. Guards!" she shouted, her voice carrying across the training field.

I laughed. "Call all the guards you want. It won't change what's coming."

"Liam Knight," Broderick snarled, drawing his sword. Its blade gleamed in the morning sunlight, pulsing with power. "You're courting death!"

He stepped forward, his aura exploding outward with enough force to crack the stone beneath his feet. The training field trembled as his power unfurled—an impressive display that would have intimidated anyone else.

I simply smiled, ready for what would come next.