Rise of The Abandoned Husband

I lunged forward the instant Dominic Ashworth's hand moved toward Clara. My body responded with practiced precision, golden light already flaring around me as I prepared to intercept his strike.

But Dominic was craftier than I anticipated. His first move had been a feint.

As I shifted to protect Clara, Dominic pivoted with shocking speed for a man his age. His true attack came from an unexpected angle—a second palm strike aimed directly at Clara's chest.

"Clara!" I shouted, realizing I wouldn't reach her in time.

The elderly Ashworth's palm glowed with concentrated energy as it descended toward the girl. His face twisted with cruel satisfaction, clearly believing he'd outmaneuvered me.

What happened next stunned us all.

Just before Dominic's palm connected with Clara, a blinding white light erupted from her small body. The radiance pulsed outward in a perfect sphere, engulfing Clara in its protective embrace. When Dominic's palm struck this barrier, the energy rebounded with twice the force.

The Ashworth elder flew backward as if struck by lightning. His body crashed through the remains of my garden wall, sending bricks and mortar flying in all directions. He landed in an ungraceful heap amid his own property's flowerbeds.

The light around Clara dimmed gradually, leaving her standing exactly where she'd been, looking as surprised as everyone else.

"What just happened?" she whispered, staring down at her hands in wonder.

Dominic's apprentices rushed to their master's side. The elder sat up slowly, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. His expression morphed from shock to pure hatred.

"You..." he snarled, pointing a trembling finger at Clara. "That power..."

I stepped in front of her protectively. "You attacked a child under my protection. You're fortunate that's all that happened to you."

The Man with the Mustache moved closer, examining Clara with newfound interest. "Fascinating," he murmured. "Simply fascinating."

Dominic struggled to his feet, brushing off his apprentices' attempts to help him. "This isn't over," he hissed. "That girl isn't what she appears to be. She's dangerous."

"The only danger here came from you," I retorted. "Leave now, before you embarrass yourself further."

His eyes narrowed to slits. "Mark my words, Knight. That creature you're harboring will be your downfall."

With a sharp gesture to his apprentices, Dominic turned and limped away, his dignity clearly wounded more than his body.

Once they were out of earshot, I turned to Clara. "Are you alright?"

She nodded, though confusion clouded her eyes. "I didn't do anything. It just... happened."

The Man with the Mustache circled her with scholarly interest. "It's as I suspected. The mask's influence runs deeper than we thought."

"What do you mean?" I asked, keeping my voice calm despite the anxiety building in my chest.

He stroked his mustache thoughtfully. "The power that protected her—that wasn't Clara herself. It was the consciousness of the masked woman."

Clara's eyes widened. "She's inside me?"

"Not exactly." The Man with the Mustache chose his words carefully. "Think of it more as... an autonomous protective mechanism. The mask has bonded with you, creating a defensive system that activates when you're in danger."

I frowned. "Is it dangerous to her?"

"Not directly, no." He shook his head. "But it signals a significant stage in her development. The masked woman's consciousness is becoming more active within her."

Clara hugged herself, suddenly looking very small. "Am I going to disappear? Will she take over?"

I knelt before her, placing my hands gently on her shoulders. "No. I won't let that happen. We'll figure this out together."

The Man with the Mustache cleared his throat. "We should move this conversation elsewhere. These ruins aren't exactly private."

He was right. Our destructive test with the gourd had attracted attention beyond just Dominic Ashworth. Curious neighbors peered through the gaps in their fences, and I could sense others approaching.

"Let's go to the safe house," I decided. "We need to plan our next steps anyway."

We gathered what little remained of value from the rubble of my quarters and departed quickly. The purple-gold gourd, now tucked safely inside the Man with the Mustache's robes, had stopped glowing entirely, as if deliberately concealing its presence.

The safe house was a modest dwelling on the outskirts of the district, purchased under a false name with funds channeled through several intermediaries. It wasn't luxurious, but it was secure.

Once inside, Clara sat quietly at the kitchen table while the Man with the Mustache and I spoke in hushed tones by the window.

"This development with Clara changes things," he said, his usual jovial manner replaced by genuine concern. "The masked woman's power is awakening faster than anticipated."

I glanced at Clara, who was absentmindedly tracing patterns on the wooden tabletop. "What can we do to slow it down?"

He sighed. "Very little, I'm afraid. The process has its own momentum now."

"There must be something."

"Well..." He twirled his mustache between his fingers. "There are ancient techniques for suppressing foreign consciousnesses, but they're incredibly difficult and dangerous."

I nodded grimly. "Look into them. We need options."

"And what about your impending duel with Broderick?" he asked. "It's only two days away."

The reminder sent a cold wave of focus through my body. In all the chaos with the gourd and Clara's display of power, I'd momentarily pushed thoughts of Broderick aside.

"I'll be ready," I said simply.

"Don't underestimate him," the Man with the Mustache warned. "Ms. Hayward has been personally overseeing his training in the Mystic Realm."

"I know."

In fact, at that very moment, Ms. Hayward and Broderick were emerging from their extended training session in the Veridia City Martial Guild's private Mystic Realm.

Broderick's body had changed dramatically during their seclusion. His muscles were more defined, his posture straighter, and a dangerous confidence radiated from him like heat from a forge.

"Remember what I taught you," Ms. Hayward instructed as they walked through the guild's ornate halls. "Knight's greatest strength is his adaptability. Don't give him time to analyze your techniques."

Broderick flexed his hands, energy crackling between his fingers. "He won't have time to think at all."

"Good." Ms. Hayward's thin lips curved into a cold smile. "Show no mercy. Kill him as quickly as you can."

"And if he surrenders?"

Her eyes hardened. "There will be no surrender. Finish him, regardless of what happens in that arena."

Broderick nodded, his face a mask of determination. "For the guild."

Back at the safe house, night had fallen. Clara had finally drifted off to sleep in one of the small bedrooms, exhausted by the day's events. The Man with the Mustache had departed to research suppression techniques, taking his new treasure with him.

I sat alone in the darkened main room, meditating on the challenges ahead. My cultivation circulated steadily through my meridians, golden light occasionally pulsing beneath my skin.

A soft knock at the door broke my concentration.

I rose silently, approaching the entrance with caution. Few people knew of this location, and fewer still would visit at this hour.

Through the peephole, I saw a familiar face that sent anger coursing through my veins. Dominic Ashworth stood on my doorstep, alone this time.

I opened the door but blocked the entrance with my body. "What do you want?"

His weathered face showed no emotion. "May I come in?"

"No."

He nodded as if expecting this response. "Then I'll be brief. I know you're fighting Broderick tomorrow."

"The day after tomorrow," I corrected.

"No." His eyes gleamed with malicious satisfaction. "Tomorrow. The guild moved the schedule forward. I'm surprised you weren't informed."

My expression remained neutral despite the surge of anger I felt. Another of their manipulations, trying to catch me off-guard.

"Is that all?" I asked coldly.

"Not quite." Dominic straightened his robes. "I wanted to inform you personally that whether you win or lose against Broderick, my personal disciple will challenge you immediately afterward."

I raised an eyebrow. "Your disciple?"

"Yes." His smile was thin and cruel. "He's been waiting for this opportunity for quite some time. And unlike that fool Broderick, he won't underestimate you."

"I see." I kept my voice level. "And if I decline this challenge?"

Dominic's smile widened. "You misunderstand. It's not a request. He will challenge you, whether you accept or not."

The implication was clear—I would be forced to fight regardless of my condition after the Broderick match.

"Is that all?" I repeated.

"For now." He turned to leave but paused. "Oh, and Knight? That girl you're protecting—Clara, is it? My sources tell me she's quite special. The guild would be very interested to learn about her... unique abilities."

My hand shot out, grabbing his collar and pulling him close. "Threaten her again, and our next conversation won't be so civil."

He didn't flinch. "Bold words from a man who may not survive the week."

I released him with a slight push. "Goodnight, Elder Ashworth."

As I closed the door, his voice carried through the narrowing gap: "Sleep well, Knight. You'll need your strength."

I leaned against the closed door, my mind racing. The Veridia City Martial Guild was stacking the deck against me—moving up the fight with Broderick and ensuring I faced another powerful opponent immediately after.

They were determined to see me fall, one way or another.

But they had miscalculated. Their desperation only confirmed what I already suspected—they feared what I was becoming. And fear from enemies like these was a good sign.

I returned to my meditation position, golden light enveloping my form as I prepared for the battles ahead. If they wanted me gone so badly, it meant I was on the right path.

Tomorrow would bring Broderick, fueled by Ms. Hayward's training and the guild's backing. And if I survived him, Dominic's mysterious disciple awaited.

So be it.

I had faced worse odds before.

And I had Clara to protect now—a responsibility I wouldn't fail, no matter how many enemies stood in my path.