Rise of The Abandoned Husband

"What, bullying people?" I said coldly, my voice carrying across the suddenly silent courtyard. "Dominic Ashworth, you really have no shame."

My body screamed in protest at the sudden exertion. I wasn't fully recovered, but there was no way I'd let this man harm Clara.

Dominic's face contorted with rage. "Shame? Your little monster just killed my disciple!"

"A disciple you willingly put in danger," I replied, maintaining my grip on his wrist. "You challenged a child to a duel. What kind of master does that?"

I pushed him back with a surge of energy that cost me more than I cared to admit. My vision blurred momentarily from the effort.

"She's no child," Dominic spat, regaining his balance. "She's a killer, just like you."

Clara stood frozen behind me, her small face pale with shock. "I didn't mean to," she whispered. "I just touched him."

The crowd had backed away, forming a wide circle around us. Phones were recording everything, exactly as Dominic had planned. This was a spectacle designed to ruin me.

"You've gone too far this time, Ashworth," I said, positioning myself firmly between him and Clara. "You came to my territory looking for blood."

"Your disciple murdered Zhou!" Dominic pointed at the lifeless body slumped against the wall. "Justice demands retribution!"

I glanced at the fallen disciple, then back at Dominic. "Justice? Or vengeance? You engineered this entire situation."

Dominic's remaining disciples moved to flank him, their stances hostile. The Man with the Mustache edged closer to Clara, preparing to get her to safety if things escalated further.

"You talk of justice," I continued, "yet you were about to strike down a child. What kind of justice is that?"

"The kind reserved for monsters," Dominic replied coldly. "Like master, like disciple. Both killers without conscience."

I felt my patience snap. Dominic had pushed too far, and my tolerance had reached its limit.

"You want an explanation for Zhou's death?" I asked, my voice dangerously quiet.

Dominic's eyes narrowed. "I want justice."

Without warning, I moved. Despite my weakened state, I crossed the distance to one of his remaining disciples in a blur. My hand shot out, fingers pressing precisely against the man's chest.

The disciple's eyes widened in shock. A strangled gasp escaped his lips before he crumpled to the ground, dead before he hit the stone pavement.

Gasps erupted from the crowd. The Man with the Mustache cursed under his breath. Clara watched with wide, confused eyes.

"There's your explanation," I said, turning back to face Dominic. "Now we're even."

Dominic's face turned purple with rage. "You... you..." He seemed unable to form words, choking on his own fury.

"I what?" I challenged, my voice cold. "Killed your disciple? Just as you were willing to kill Clara? The difference is, I don't pretend it's justice."

The remaining disciples backed away, fear evident in their eyes. They'd just witnessed their fellow disciple killed with a single touch.

"This isn't over, Knight," Dominic finally managed, trembling with rage. "You've made a fatal mistake."

"No," I corrected him. "The mistake was yours when you came here threatening those under my protection."

Dominic's eyes darted around, assessing the situation. Despite his fury, he was calculating his odds. I might be weakened, but I'd just demonstrated I was still lethal.

"The Veridia City Martial Guild will hear of this," he threatened. "Two more deaths at your hands. Your days are numbered."

I smiled, though there was no warmth in it. "Tell them whatever you want. But remember this—if you come for Clara again, I won't stop at one disciple."

Dominic glared at me with pure hatred. "You're not at full strength," he observed. "Otherwise you would have killed me too. I'll remember that."

"Next time," I promised, "I won't be recovering from a battle."

With a final look of loathing, Dominic turned and strode away, his remaining disciples hurrying after him. The crowd parted to let them pass, murmurs rippling through the onlookers.

Once they were gone, I nearly collapsed. The Man with the Mustache rushed forward to support me.

"That was spectacularly stupid," he hissed in my ear. "Killing his disciple in front of a crowd of witnesses?"

"It made a point," I replied weakly. "Dominic responds to strength, not words."

"It also painted a bigger target on your back," he countered.

I turned to Clara, who stood staring at her hands. "Are you okay?"

She looked up at me, her eyes troubled. "How did you do that? Kill him with just a touch?"

I exchanged glances with The Man with the Mustache. "Let's discuss this inside. Away from prying eyes and recording phones."

---

In the privacy of my chamber, Clara sat across from me, her legs swinging absently from the chair that was too tall for her small frame.

"I want to leave," she announced suddenly.

I looked up, surprised. "Leave? Where would you go?"

Clara shrugged. "I don't know. But I can't stay here. I'm dangerous."

The Man with the Mustache, leaning against the wall, snorted. "That's an understatement."

I shot him a warning glance before turning back to Clara. "What happened today wasn't your fault."

"I killed him," she said simply. "I didn't mean to, but I did. Just like those Guardians yesterday. Something's happening to me, and I don't understand it."

I studied her carefully. The innocent child I'd taken in was changing before my eyes. The ancient power within her was awakening, and neither of us fully understood what that meant.

"Maybe leaving isn't such a bad idea," I said finally.

The Man with the Mustache straightened in surprise. "You're agreeing with her?"

I nodded slowly. "Clara's right. Something's happening to her, something powerful. And right now, with all our enemies circling, this might be the most dangerous place for her to be."

"Where would she go?" The Man with the Mustache asked.

I turned to Clara. "There are remote places where you can learn to control this power. Places where you won't be a target for people like Dominic Ashworth."

Clara's eyes widened. "You're really letting me go?"

"Not immediately," I clarified. "And not without protection."

I reached into my pocket and withdrew a small jade pendant, similar to the one I always carried but smaller.

"I've been preparing this for you," I explained, holding it out to her. "It contains a fraction of my energy and will offer you some protection. It also has a tracking element so I can find you if you're in danger."

Clara took the pendant, turning it over in her small hands. "When can I leave?"

"Give me two days," I said. "I need to make arrangements, ensure you have supplies and a safe route."

She nodded, clutching the pendant tightly. "Thank you for understanding."

After Clara left to pack her few belongings, The Man with the Mustache moved closer.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked quietly. "Letting her go off on her own?"

"She won't be entirely alone," I replied. "And staying here puts everyone at risk, including her."

"She's dangerous, Liam," he said bluntly. "What we saw today... that wasn't normal. No child should have that kind of power."

"She's not just any child," I reminded him. "And that's precisely why she needs to discover who—or what—she really is."

"And if what she discovers turns her against us?" he pressed.

I had no answer for that.

---

Three days later, I stood in my chamber, staring out the window. Clara had left the previous morning, a small pack on her back and determination in her eyes. I'd provided her with supplies, money, and contacts who would help her on her journey. Whether that would be enough remained to be seen.

Mrs. Hayward was still unconscious in the medical wing, her body struggling to recover from the trauma of Broderick's attack. The physicians remained optimistic, but her advanced age complicated matters.

My own body had mostly recovered, but my mind remained troubled. The encounter with Broderick had revealed a harsh truth: I was not yet ready to face a Martial Saint directly. My resistance to his power had been impressive but insufficient. And with Isabelle still in danger, time was a luxury I couldn't afford.

A knock at the door interrupted my thoughts.

"Enter," I called.

The Man with the Mustache slipped inside, his expression grim. "We've got trouble. Big trouble."

"What now?" I sighed, turning to face him.

"The Heavenly Guardian Book," he said. "I've been analyzing the effects from your encounter with it. The protection you received from the Old Man's technique isn't permanent."

My blood ran cold. "What do you mean?"

"It's more like a postponement," he explained. "The book's influence is still there, dormant for now, but it will eventually reassert itself. When it does..."

"I'll be vulnerable again," I finished.

He nodded grimly. "And there's something else. Word from my sources in Veridia City. The Martial Guild held an emergency meeting last night."

"About me?"

"About the 'anomaly that resists Martial Saint power,'" he quoted. "They've got footage of your fight with Broderick."

My jaw tightened. The implications were clear. I'd moved from being an irritant to a significant threat in their eyes.

"Who attended this meeting?" I asked.

"Senior Guild officials," he replied. "And Emerson Holmes."

Emerson Holmes. The name sent a chill down my spine. One of the most powerful figures in Veridia City and a man rumored to have connections to ancient powers.

"What were their conclusions?"

The Man with the Mustache hesitated. "They're concerned. Very concerned. Your resistance to Martial Saint power isn't supposed to be possible at your level. Some mentioned prophecies."

"Prophecies?" I echoed.

"Ancient texts that predict the rise of someone who will challenge the established order," he explained. "Someone with... unusual abilities."

I turned back to the window, processing this information. "They see me as a threat to their power structure."

"More than that," he replied. "They're afraid. And that makes them dangerous."

I nodded slowly. "So what's their next move?"

"That's the most troubling part," he said. "One of the senior officials asked, 'Should we take necessary measures?' The footage ended before anyone answered."

"Necessary measures," I repeated, understanding the euphemism for what it was. "They're considering taking direct action against me."

The Man with the Mustache nodded. "We need to prepare. If the entire Guild moves against you..."

I cut him off. "Then I'll need to become stronger. Much stronger. And quickly."

Outside, dark clouds gathered on the horizon, a fitting mirror to the storm brewing in Veridia City. New enemies were aligning against me, more powerful than any I'd faced before.

And somewhere out there, Clara was beginning her own journey, carrying powers that could either save or destroy her.

Time was running out for all of us.