Rise of The Abandoned Husband

I watched as Broderick's body tumbled over the distant horizon, his dark energy scattered like ashes in the wind. My golden light still flickered across my skin, undiminished by our clash.

"That's it? It's over?" Clara asked, her voice small with disbelief.

I nodded, turning away from the direction I'd sent Broderick flying. "It appears so."

The stunned silence from the crowd was deeply satisfying. Ms. Hayward's face had gone pale, and the guild elders behind her looked like they'd seen a ghost. None of them had expected their champion to be so thoroughly outmatched.

"Let's go," I told Clara and the Man with the Mustache. "We've wasted enough time here."

We'd barely taken three steps when a rumble echoed across the mountain, like distant thunder. I paused, frowning.

"What was that?" Clara asked, tugging at my sleeve.

The Man with the Mustache squinted toward the horizon. "I don't think your fight is over, kid."

I followed his gaze. A dark shape was rising in the distance, growing larger by the second. The rumbling intensified, and the ground beneath our feet began to tremble.

"Impossible!" Ricardo Beaumont shouted from among the spectators. "No one could survive that blow!"

But someone had.

Broderick's massive form shot into the air and then crashed down at the edge of the arena. The impact sent cracks spiderwebbing through the stone platform. Blood streamed from multiple wounds on his scaled body, and his breathing came in ragged gasps. One of his arms hung at an odd angle, clearly broken.

"You..." he snarled, his voice distorted by pain and rage. "This isn't over."

I sighed, genuinely disappointed. "You should have stayed down."

"Knight has grown too powerful too quickly," Darnell Bradford whispered to Ricardo, not quite quietly enough. "It's unnatural."

Ms. Hayward's expression had shifted from shock to calculated interest. "Broderick," she called out. "Use it."

Broderick's eyes widened. "But Master said—"

"Use it now!" she commanded, her voice leaving no room for argument.

Broderick closed his eyes. His body trembled violently as he seemed to struggle with some internal decision. Then, with a resigned nod, he placed his functioning hand against his chest.

"What's he doing?" Clara asked, gripping my arm tighter.

The Man with the Mustache stepped back, pulling Clara with him. "Something's wrong. Get ready."

I stood my ground, gathering my golden energy into my fist once more. Whatever trick Broderick had planned, I was confident I could handle it.

How wrong I was.

Broderick began to chant in a language I didn't recognize—ancient and guttural. With each word, strange markings appeared on his scaled skin, glowing with an eerie blue light. These weren't cultivation marks or battle formations. They were something far older.

"Liam," the Man with the Mustache called urgently. "Don't let him finish that incantation!"

I didn't hesitate. I launched forward, golden fist raised to strike Broderick down before he could complete whatever ritual he'd started.

But I was too late.

Broderick's eyes snapped open—no longer their previous color but a brilliant, blinding white. He caught my fist mid-strike, something that should have been impossible given our previous exchange.

"Surprised?" he asked, his voice now layered with another, deeper tone beneath his own.

Before I could react, he twisted my arm and flung me backward. I flipped in mid-air and landed on my feet, sliding several paces across the stone.

"What is this?" I demanded, flexing my fingers. My fist stung from the contact.

Broderick smiled, revealing teeth that had grown even sharper. The strange markings continued to pulse across his skin, and the air around him shimmered with power unlike anything I'd felt before.

"A gift," he replied simply. "From those far greater than you."

He raised his hand, and the broken arm that had hung uselessly at his side straightened with a sickening crack. His wounds began to close before my eyes, dark scales knitting together over torn flesh.

"This power..." The Man with the Mustache's voice trailed off, his usual bravado completely gone. "It's not natural."

I gathered my golden energy once more, compressing it into a dense ball between my palms. "Natural or not, he's still going down."

I hurled the energy ball at Broderick with all my strength. It streaked toward him like a golden comet, powerful enough to level a small mountain.

Broderick didn't dodge. He simply raised his hand, palm out.

When my golden energy made contact with his palm, it simply... disappeared. Not deflected or absorbed—just erased from existence. No explosion, no resistance, nothing.

"What?" I couldn't hide my shock.

Broderick laughed, the sound echoing unnaturally. "My turn."

He moved. One moment he stood twenty paces away; the next, he was directly in front of me. I didn't even see him cross the distance.

His fist slammed into my chest with devastating force. Pain exploded through my body as I was catapulted backward, crashing through stone outcroppings before slamming into a cliff face nearly a hundred paces away.

The impact drove the air from my lungs. I dropped to one knee, gasping. Blood trickled from the corner of my mouth.

"Liam!" Clara screamed.

I forced myself to my feet, pushing aside the pain. No opponent had landed such an effective blow on me since... I couldn't even remember when.

Broderick was already moving again, his speed incomprehensible. I barely raised my arms in time to block his next strike. The force still sent me skidding backward, my feet carving trenches in the stone.

"How?" I demanded, my golden light flaring defensively around me. "How did you suddenly gain this power?"

Broderick didn't answer. He simply continued his assault, each blow faster and stronger than the last. I blocked what I could, dodged what I couldn't, but for every attack I avoided, two more connected.

A particularly vicious kick caught me in the ribs, sending me airborne. Before I could recover, Broderick appeared above me, clasped his hands together, and hammered me back toward the ground.

I crashed into the arena floor, the impact creating a crater around my body. Pain lanced through my chest—several ribs were definitely broken. I tasted blood, metallic and warm.

"Do you see now?" Ms. Hayward called out, her confidence fully restored. "This is the difference between true power and whatever parlor tricks you've been using."

I pushed myself up, spitting blood. My golden light flickered, struggling to maintain its consistency. "What... what is this power?"

Broderick descended slowly, hovering just above the ground. The strange markings on his skin pulsed in rhythm with his heartbeat. "Something ancient. Something you could never comprehend."

He gestured casually, and an invisible force slammed into me, driving me deeper into the crater. I felt bones crack under the pressure, my body screaming in protest.

"Stop it!" Clara yelled, rushing forward despite the Man with the Mustache trying to hold her back. "You're killing him!"

Broderick glanced at her, dismissive. "The child should know her place."

With another casual gesture, he sent an invisible wave of force toward Clara. The Man with the Mustache barely pulled her out of the way in time.

"Your focus should be on me," I growled, forcing myself to stand despite my injuries. Blood now flowed freely from multiple wounds across my body.

Broderick turned back to me, amusement in his glowing white eyes. "Still standing? Impressive. But futile."

He disappeared again, reappearing directly before me. His hand shot out, gripping my throat and lifting me off the ground. I clawed at his arm, trying to break free, but his strength was overwhelming.

"What's wrong, Knight?" he taunted, squeezing tighter. "Where's that golden light now? Where's that confidence?"

I tried to gather my energy, but it slipped away like water through my fingers. Whatever power Broderick now wielded, it was actively suppressing my own.

"I think I'll take my time with you," he said, bringing his face close to mine. "Make an example of what happens to those who challenge the Veridia City Martial Guild."

He slammed me into the ground again, then kicked me across the arena. I tumbled like a ragdoll, unable to control my movements. When I finally stopped rolling, I could barely find the strength to push myself onto all fours.

"Pathetic," Broderick spat.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Clara struggling against the Man with the Mustache's grip, tears streaming down her face. The spectators watched in silent horror as their expectations were completely upended for the second time today.

Broderick stalked toward me, each step leaving glowing footprints in the stone. "Any last words before I finish this?"

I managed to get one knee under me, blood dripping from my chin onto the ground. "What... what did you do? This isn't your power."

He smiled, the expression grotesque on his transformed face. "You're right. It's not mine. It's borrowed—a fragment of something far greater than either of us."

"Borrowed from whom?" I demanded, trying desperately to buy time as I searched for some way to counter this overwhelming force.

Broderick chuckled. "That's not your concern. You'll be dead soon anyway."

He raised his hand, dark energy coalescing into a sphere of pure destruction. This wasn't the power of the Heaven Swallowing Python anymore—this was something else entirely, something older and infinitely more dangerous.

I braced myself, trying one last time to summon my golden light. It flickered weakly around my fists but couldn't stabilize.

Broderick's attack never came.

Instead, his body suddenly seized up, the strange markings on his skin flashing erratically. His face contorted in pain.

"What's happening?" Ms. Hayward called out, alarm evident in her voice.

Broderick dropped to one knee, clutching his chest. "It's... too much... I can't... contain it..."

For a moment, I saw something else overlaid on Broderick's form—a shadowy figure, ancient and terrible, with glowing eyes that seemed to stare directly into my soul. Then the vision was gone, and Broderick was gasping for air, the markings on his skin dimming.

I didn't waste the opportunity. Summoning every ounce of strength I had left, I charged forward and slammed my fist into his face. The blow lacked my usual power but was enough to send him sprawling backward.

Broderick recovered quickly, the momentary weakness passing. His eyes locked with mine, burning with hatred. "A temporary setback. This power requires... adjustment."

He rose to his feet, the markings brightening once more. "But I've seen enough to know you cannot stand against it. This fight is over."

With blinding speed, he closed the distance between us again. This time, I couldn't even raise my arms to defend myself. His fist connected with my chest, shattering my sternum and sending me flying through the air once more.

I hit the ground hard, skidding to a stop near Clara and the Man with the Mustache. My vision blurred, darkness creeping in at the edges. I couldn't move, couldn't speak.

Clara broke free from the Man with the Mustache and rushed to my side. "Liam! Get up! Please!"

I tried, but my body refused to respond. The pain was overwhelming, consuming every thought.

Broderick approached slowly, savoring his victory. "See how easily he falls when faced with true power?"

The Man with the Mustache knelt beside me, his usual jovial expression replaced by grim concern. "This power..." he muttered, studying Broderick closely. "It may very well come from the Martial Saint!"