Rise of The Abandoned Husband

I couldn't sleep. The ancient map of the Guild's underground network lay spread across my table, illuminated by a single lamp. Three days. Just three days until I could attempt to reach Isabelle. Every hour felt like torture, knowing she remained in their clutches, suffering through blood cultivation rituals I could barely imagine.

Dawn broke as I rolled up the scroll for the hundredth time. I'd memorized every passage, every potential trap location. But doubts still plagued me. Was I strong enough? What if the map was outdated? What if Isabelle was no longer the woman I remembered?

I arrived at the Celestial Apothecary Guild earlier than scheduled. The morning air was crisp, carrying the sweet scent of medicinal herbs growing in the Guild's gardens. Guards bowed respectfully as I passed, still treating me as the honored guest of their Pavilion Master.

Mariana Valerius and Jackson Harding awaited me in her private meditation chamber, a secluded space behind her main office. The room was circular, lined with ancient scrolls and illuminated by soft jade lamps that cast an ethereal glow.

"You look exhausted," Mariana noted as I entered.

"I've been studying the map," I admitted, taking the seat they offered.

Jackson nodded approvingly. "Preparation is wise. But you also need rest."

"Rest can wait until Isabelle is safe," I said firmly.

They exchanged a meaningful look – the same silent communication I'd noticed yesterday.

"There's something you're not telling me," I stated bluntly. "Whatever it is, I need to know."

Mariana sighed, her elegant fingers tracing patterns on the wooden table. "We've been discussing alternatives to your current plan."

"What alternatives? You already gave me the map."

Jackson leaned forward, his weathered face serious. "The path you're planning – sneaking through ancient tunnels – carries significant risk. Not just to your life, but to your future."

"My future doesn't matter if Isabelle—"

"Listen," Mariana interrupted softly. "What if there was another way? A path that might take longer but offer better chances?"

My jaw tightened. "Every day matters. She's suffering now."

"We understand your urgency," Jackson said. "But there's something you should know – something few people are aware of."

My attention sharpened. "I'm listening."

Mariana rose gracefully, moving to a hidden compartment in the wall. From it, she retrieved an ancient scroll, yellowed with age and sealed with wax bearing a symbol I didn't recognize.

"This," she said, carefully placing it before me, "is a heavenly prophecy. One of the few authentic predictions made by the legendary Astral Sage three centuries ago."

I stared at the scroll, not daring to touch it. "What does it say?"

Jackson's voice dropped to nearly a whisper. "It predicts that within this decade, a new Martial Saint will emerge in Pyro."

My heart skipped a beat. Martial Saints were the rarest and most powerful beings in our world – individuals who had broken through ordinary limitations to achieve near-godlike abilities.

"And this matters because...?" I prompted.

"Because there hasn't been a new Martial Saint in over fifty years," Mariana explained. "The Path of Heaven – the barrier between mortal cultivation and sainthood – has been virtually impenetrable."

"Currently, only eight people in our entire country hold the title of Martial Saint," Jackson added. "I am one. Mariana is another."

This revelation stunned me. I knew both were powerful, but I hadn't realized they'd achieved this legendary status.

"The prophecy describes distinct signs," Mariana continued. "Signs that align remarkably well with recent events – and with you, Liam."

My mouth went dry. "You think I'm going to become a Martial Saint?"

"We believe you have the potential," Jackson corrected. "Whether you achieve it depends on many factors."

I shook my head, trying to process this information. "Even if that's true, how does it help Isabelle now? Becoming a Martial Saint would take years, perhaps decades."

"Not necessarily," Mariana said, her eyes gleaming with something I couldn't identify. "The Path of Heaven is currently suppressing others from reaching this realm, but the prophecy suggests this suppression is weakening."

"Moreover," Jackson added, "there are... alternative methods to acquire similar power."

My interest peaked immediately. "What methods?"

"Dangerous ones," Mariana warned. "Methods that have killed countless ambitious cultivators throughout history."

"I'll take any risk for Isabelle," I stated firmly.

"We know," Jackson replied with a faint smile. "Which is why we've been considering a particular option."

Mariana nodded. "The Avery family."

The name was vaguely familiar. "The overseas merchant clan?"

"They're much more than merchants," Mariana corrected. "The Averys possess ancient techniques passed down through generations – techniques that, under specific circumstances, can grant power comparable to a Martial Saint."

Hope flared within me. "And they would share these techniques?"

"Not freely," Jackson cautioned. "But they might be persuaded."

"How?" I pressed.

Mariana's expression grew calculating. "Tilda Avery, the family's youngest daughter, arrived in Pyro last week. She's seeking help for her father, who suffers from a rare condition that requires an equally rare remedy."

"What remedy?"

"A concentric pill," she replied. "One of the most complex alchemical creations in existence. Few alchemists can even attempt it – fewer succeed."

Understanding dawned on me. "And you think I could refine this pill?"

Jackson nodded. "Your alchemical talents are extraordinary, Liam. Combined with your Chaotic Body's unique properties, you might succeed where others have failed."

"If you help Tilda," Mariana continued, "the Averys would be indebted to you. Such a debt could be leveraged for access to their power-bestowing techniques."

My mind raced with possibilities. "How long would this take? Creating the pill, traveling to meet them, learning their techniques?"

"Weeks, possibly months," Jackson admitted.

My heart sank. "Too long. Isabelle needs me now."

"Consider this," Mariana said gently. "If you attempt the rescue as planned and fail, Isabelle remains captive with no hope of rescue. But if you take this alternate path and succeed..."

"You'd return with power sufficient to walk through the Guild's front gates and demand her release," Jackson finished. "No tunnels, no sneaking, no desperate gambles."

The weight of the decision pressed down on me. Every instinct screamed to act immediately, to dive into those tunnels three days from now and fight my way to Isabelle. Yet the rational part of my mind recognized the wisdom in their words.

"You really believe I could become that powerful?" I asked quietly.

"I've lived over two centuries," Jackson said solemnly. "In all that time, I've never seen anyone with your potential."

"But potential isn't achievement," I countered.

"True," Mariana acknowledged. "The choice remains yours, Liam. We'll support whichever path you select."

I paced the room, torn between immediate action and strategic patience. "How would this work? Meeting with Tilda Avery, creating this pill?"

"I've already arranged an introduction," Mariana revealed. "She'll arrive in three days."

The same day I had planned to infiltrate the Guild. The timing felt significant.

"And the ingredients for this concentric pill?"

"We have most already," she assured me. "The rest can be acquired."

I stopped pacing, facing them directly. "If I succeed – if I gain this power – what are my chances against the Guild?"

Jackson's expression grew serious. "Even a newly elevated Martial Saint would face challenges against eight established ones. But you wouldn't face them alone."

Mariana nodded in agreement. "You would have allies. Me. Jackson. Others who oppose the Guild's current leadership."

"And Isabelle?" I pressed. "Can she endure until then?"

Their silence was answer enough. Nobody could guarantee Isabelle's safety or condition.

I closed my eyes, wrestling with the most difficult decision I'd ever faced. Act now with slim chances or wait for better odds while she suffered.

"If I choose this path," I said finally, opening my eyes, "I need assurances. Someone must monitor Isabelle's situation. If her condition worsens dramatically, I need to know immediately."

"That can be arranged," Mariana agreed.

"And I need your word that if this fails – if the Averys refuse or their techniques prove ineffective – you'll help me storm the Guild with whatever resources we have."

"You have it," Jackson promised solemnly.

I took a deep breath. "Then I'll meet with Tilda Avery."

Relief visibly washed over Mariana's face. "A wise decision, Liam."

"Not wise," I corrected. "Necessary. When do I leave?"

"Three days," she replied. "Just enough time to gather the remaining ingredients and prepare for your journey."

I nodded, my determination solidifying. "Three days, then."

As our meeting concluded and I prepared to leave, Jackson caught my arm gently. "Patience doesn't come naturally to you, Liam. But sometimes the longest path is the surest."

"I'm not being patient," I corrected him. "I'm being strategic. There's a difference."

He smiled faintly. "Indeed there is."

I departed with a heavy heart but strengthened resolve. Every step away from the immediate rescue attempt felt like a betrayal of Isabelle, yet I clung to the hope that this new path might truly save her.

Outside in the Guild's garden, I paused beneath a flowering peach tree, its delicate blooms reminiscent of Isabelle's favorite perfume. "Wait for me," I whispered to the wind. "I'm coming for you – stronger than ever before."

---

After I left, Mariana Valerius turned to Jackson Harding, her expression unreadable.

"He agreed more easily than I expected," she remarked, pouring tea into two delicate cups.

Jackson accepted his with a nod. "Desperation makes even the most impulsive men consider alternatives."

"You believe he can do it? Create the concentric pill?"

"If anyone can, it's him," Jackson replied. "His talent for alchemy is unmatched."

Mariana sipped her tea thoughtfully. "And if he succeeds with the Averys?"

A slow smile spread across Jackson's weathered face. "Then things become very interesting."

"Care to make it more interesting?" Mariana suggested, a mischievous glint in her eye.

"A wager, Mariana? How unlike you."

She set down her cup decisively. "If he returns with the power of the Martial Saint from the Averys, you will impart the Nine Mysteries of the Taoist to him."

Jackson's eyebrows rose dramatically. "The Nine Mysteries? My ultimate technique?"

"The very same."

He studied her for a long moment. "You truly believe in him that much?"

"I do," she said simply.

Jackson nodded slowly. "Then we have a bet."