Rise of The Abandoned Husband

The purple light from the gourd bathed the ruins of my ceiling in an ethereal glow. I'd been expecting visitors since that beacon shot into the sky, but I hadn't expected such a profound silence to follow.

"Is that normal?" I asked, pointing at the crystal vessel that now hovered a few inches above the table.

The Man with the Mustache circled it with reverent steps. "Normal? No, no, definitely not normal. This, my friend, is extraordinary."

He approached the floating gourd cautiously, his eyes wide with childlike wonder. "Do you know what this truly is? This isn't just a Primal Flame Vessel—this is a purple-gold gourd!"

"And that means?"

"It means," he whispered, "that we've stumbled upon one of the rarest magical artifacts in existence. Purple-gold gourds are legendary weapons that can absorb and redirect energy. The stories say they scale infinitely with the user's strength."

Clara sat cross-legged nearby, her gaze fixed on the floating object. "It feels alive," she murmured.

I approached the gourd, feeling its heat intensify with each step. "How powerful are we talking?"

"With your current strength?" The Man with the Mustache stroked his facial hair thoughtfully. "You could probably level half this district with a single strike. In the hands of a Martial Saint? Entire cities would fall."

My eyebrows shot up. "And you're not concerned about having something that dangerous just floating in my bedroom?"

He waved dismissively. "What's life without a little danger? Besides, artifacts like these choose their masters. It clearly wants to be here."

I studied the gourd more carefully. Its crystal surface rippled with purple flames that moved like living things, forming and dissolving patterns too quickly to decipher. An idea began forming in my mind.

"I want you to attack me with it," I said suddenly.

The Man with the Mustache nearly choked. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Attack me with the gourd. I need to test something."

Clara looked up sharply. "Liam, that's dangerous."

"Exactly." I moved to the center of the room, clearing space. "I've been cultivating the Saintly Body Skill and my physical resilience has improved dramatically. I need to know my limits."

The Man with the Mustache shook his head vigorously. "Bad idea. Monumentally bad idea. The kind of idea that gets people obliterated."

"Just a controlled test," I insisted. "You can regulate how much power you channel through it."

"That's not how artifacts like this work!" he sputtered. "They have minds of their own!"

I rolled my shoulders, loosening my muscles. "Then we'll find out together. Are you going to help me or not?"

He looked between me and the gourd, his mustache twitching nervously. "Fine. But when they're scraping pieces of you off the walls, remember this was your idea."

Clara moved to the doorway, concern etched on her young face. "I'll stay back here."

"Smart girl," The Man with the Mustache muttered.

He approached the purple-gold gourd cautiously, extending his hand above it without touching its surface. The gourd responded immediately, rising higher and moving toward him.

"Interesting," he murmured. "It's responsive."

I took position across the room, planting my feet firmly on the floor. "Whenever you're ready."

"This is madness," he grumbled, but his eyes betrayed his excitement.

The gourd hovered before him now, spinning slowly. He closed his eyes, focusing his energy. The purple flames intensified, swirling faster within the crystal vessel.

I activated my Saintly Body Skill, golden light enveloping my form. The familiar warmth spread through my limbs as my muscles hardened and my skin took on a subtle metallic sheen. For good measure, I channeled my Divine Dragon Power as well, feeling its raw force surge through my meridians.

"Ready," I called.

The Man with the Mustache opened his eyes, which now glowed with the same purple light as the gourd. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

He thrust his palm forward. The gourd shot toward me like a cannonball, trailing purple fire. I braced for impact, crossing my arms before me.

The collision was unlike anything I'd experienced before. The gourd struck my crossed arms with enough force to drive me backward, my feet carving trenches in the wooden floor. Pain lanced through my body as the purple flames engulfed me, seeking entry through every pore.

My Saintly Body Skill fought back, golden light battling purple fire. The opposing energies created a deafening roar as they clashed around me.

The walls of my quarters began to crack. Furniture splintered. Windows shattered outward.

"Pull back!" I shouted, my voice nearly lost in the chaos.

But the Man with the Mustache wasn't controlling the gourd anymore—it was controlling him. His eyes were wide with panic as purple energy poured from his body into the vessel, which continued to press against my defenses.

I gritted my teeth and summoned more of my power. Golden scales rippled across my skin as the Divine Dragon aspect of my cultivation manifested physically. With a roar that shook the remaining walls, I pushed back against the gourd.

For a moment, we were locked in stalemate—my golden energy against its purple fire. Then the floor beneath us gave way with a tremendous crack.

We crashed through to the lower level of the building, debris raining around us. The impact broke the connection between the gourd and the Man with the Mustache, who tumbled away with a yelp.

The gourd bounced once on the rubble-strewn floor, then shot back into the air, hovering as if nothing had happened.

I lay on my back amid the destruction, breathing heavily. My arms were scorched where the gourd had struck them, the golden scales slowly fading back into normal skin.

"Liam!" Clara's voice called from above. She peered down through the hole in the ceiling, her face pale with concern.

I raised a hand to signal I was alive, then winced at the pain. "I'm okay."

The Man with the Mustache crawled from beneath a fallen beam, his clothing singed but otherwise unharmed. "That," he wheezed, "was incredibly stupid."

I sat up slowly, assessing the damage to my body and surroundings. My quarters were completely destroyed, as was the room below. Beyond that, I could see the mansion's outer wall had partially collapsed, revealing the neighboring property.

"Interesting," I murmured, examining my arms. The burns were already healing, new skin forming before my eyes. "My body held up better than I expected."

"Your body?" The Man with the Mustache gestured wildly at the destruction around us. "What about the building? What about my nerves? I thought you were going to be vaporized!"

I stood up, brushing debris from my clothes. "The gourd is even more powerful than you suggested. And you're right—it does have a mind of its own."

The purple-gold gourd descended slowly until it hovered between us, its flames now burning at a lower intensity.

"It's testing us," I said. "Gauging our strength."

Clara climbed carefully down through the hole in the ceiling, picking her way through the rubble to join us. "Are you really okay?" she asked, examining me with critical eyes.

"Better than okay." I flexed my fingers, feeling power course through them. "I think I could withstand attacks from Martial Saints now. That's valuable information."

The Man with the Mustache shook his head in disbelief. "You're insane. Certifiably insane."

I grinned at him, then gestured to the gourd. "It seems to like you."

"Me?" He looked at the vessel with apprehension. "I was just the conduit. It has no affinity for me."

"I disagree." I reached out and plucked the gourd from the air, surprised by how light it felt in my hand. "It responded to your energy signature immediately."

Before he could protest, I offered him the gourd. "Take it. Consider it payment for putting up with my 'insanity' as you call it."

His eyes widened. "You can't be serious. This artifact is priceless!"

"I know," I said, still holding it out to him. "And I know you'll use it well."

He stared at me, then at the gourd, his hand trembling slightly as he reached for it. "Liam, I—"

"Just take it before I change my mind."

His fingers closed around the vessel, and immediately the purple flames brightened in response. A small smile spread across his face. "Thank you. I won't forget this."

Clara tugged at my sleeve suddenly. "Someone's coming."

I turned toward the collapsed outer wall just as a figure appeared in the gap, followed by several others. My heart sank as I recognized the stern face of Dominic Ashworth, one of the most influential elders of the Ashworth family.

"What in the name of the seven hells happened here?" he demanded, surveying the destruction. His gaze settled on me, his eyes narrowing. "I might have known. Liam Knight."

I straightened my posture, ignoring the lingering pain in my arms. "Elder Ashworth. I apologize for the disturbance."

"Disturbance?" He gestured at the rubble. "You've destroyed half your mansion and damaged my property in the process!"

I glanced past him to see that indeed, parts of his garden wall had been hit by flying debris. "I'll compensate you for any damages, of course."

"Compensation isn't the point!" His face reddened with anger. "This district is meant to be peaceful and dignified. Your reckless behavior endangers everyone around you!"

One of his apprentices, a young man with a perpetually smug expression, stepped forward. "Master Ashworth, shall I teach this upstart a lesson?"

I raised an eyebrow. "I wouldn't recommend that."

"You dare threaten an apprentice of the Ashworth family?" the young man sputtered.

Without warning, I moved. One moment I was standing amidst the rubble, the next I was before him, my hand connecting with his face in a resounding slap. He flew backward, crashing into what remained of my garden wall.

"That wasn't a threat," I said calmly. "It was advice."

Dominic Ashworth's expression darkened further. "You've gone too far, Knight. Far too far."

"Have I?" I dusted off my hands. "Your apprentice volunteered for a lesson. I provided one."

The Man with the Mustache edged away, clutching his new treasure protectively. Clara remained by my side, her small face set in determination despite the tension in the air.

Dominic's gaze shifted to her, something calculating entering his expression. "And what's this? Another of your strays?"

My voice hardened. "She's under my protection."

"Your protection." He spoke the words like they tasted bitter. "Your protection didn't extend to your own home, it seems."

Before I could respond, his hand shot out with surprising speed—not toward me, but toward Clara. His palm raised to strike her.