Rise of The Abandoned Husband

The tension in the Medicine Storage was palpable as I stepped through the ornate wooden doors. Rows of shelves lined the walls, each filled with rare herbs, roots, and minerals—a treasure trove for any alchemist. The room bustled with activity as various pill masters gathered supplies for their formulas.

Colin McDaniel stood near the central table, surrounded by several attendants. When he spotted me, his eyes widened slightly before he composed himself.

"Ah, Master Knight!" he called out, his voice carrying through the room. "Come to collect ingredients for your attempt at the Concentric Pill?"

Every head turned in my direction. I noticed how conversations halted mid-sentence, replaced by hushed whispers.

"Just browsing for now," I replied casually, moving toward the shelf containing spirit herbs.

Colin stepped closer, lowering his voice to a dramatic stage whisper that was clearly meant to be overheard. "I heard the most disturbing news this morning. They found Jeremy Thornton dead in his quarters. Throat slit."

The room fell silent.

"Is that so?" I kept my expression neutral.

"Indeed." Colin's eyes gleamed with malicious delight. "And the most fascinating part? Rumor has it you were found at the scene."

More whispers erupted around us. I felt the weight of suspicious glares from every direction.

Colin continued, "Some say you killed him for his Concentric Pill formula. After all, competition for Edward Avery's reward is... fierce."

I smiled thinly. "Rumors spread quickly in this estate."

"They certainly do." He leaned even closer. "Just as they spread about how you mysteriously appeared right when poor Jeremy was killed. Quite the coincidence, wouldn't you say?"

I didn't take the bait. Instead, I turned my attention to the ingredients displayed before me. Colin eventually drifted away, having planted his poisonous seed of suspicion.

As I examined the herb selection, I noticed something peculiar. Nearly every pill master was gathering identical sets of ingredients—Silver Spirit Mushroom, Frost Dragon Root, Crimson Sage, and Midnight Tear. All key components of the Concentric Pill.

My suspicions were confirmed. These weren't just random alchemists—they were all here for the same prize.

I collected my own ingredients, carefully selecting alternatives that would serve my purpose but wouldn't reveal my true intentions. As I finished, I caught sight of The Man with the Mustache lounging near the entrance, pretending to examine a jar of dried beetles.

"Interesting choice of reading material," I said, nodding toward the jar as I approached him.

He grinned. "These little fellows make excellent additions to certain formations. Also good for pranks."

I gestured for him to follow me outside. Once we were alone in the garden path, I asked, "Is there any way to magically locate someone if you don't know their exact location?"

His bushy mustache twitched as he frowned. "Looking for your lady love, I presume?"

"Can it be done?"

He scratched his chin. "Difficult. Nearly impossible without a personal item—hair, blood, something with a strong connection to the person."

"And if I don't have that?"

"Then you'd need power. Enormous power." He studied me carefully. "Even with your remarkable abilities, locating someone across vast distances without a focus... it's beyond what most cultivators can manage."

I nodded, digesting this unwelcome information.

"There are alternatives," he added hesitantly. "Less savory methods involving blood magic or spirit binding. But the cost..."

"I understand." I didn't need him to elaborate. Such methods exacted terrible prices, both from the caster and the target.

"Why ask now?" He eyed me curiously.

"Just exploring options." I changed the subject. "Have you heard about Jeremy Thornton?"

"The dead alchemist? News travels fast. They're saying you did it." He didn't seem particularly concerned by this accusation.

"And what do you think?"

He shrugged. "I think anyone foolish enough to cross you probably deserves whatever they get."

I smiled despite myself. "Keep your ears open tonight. I have a feeling things are about to get interesting."

---

Night fell across the Avery estate. I sat cross-legged on the floor of my quarters, seventeen golden cores arranged in a half-circle before me. Each one pulsed with residual energy, representing years—sometimes decades—of cultivation from their previous owners.

I'd been expecting trouble since Colin's performance in the Medicine Storage. By publicly linking me to Jeremy's murder and the Concentric Pill formula, he'd painted a target on my back for anyone desperate enough to risk stealing it.

Which was exactly what I wanted.

The sound of footsteps in the corridor outside my door drew my attention. Not the regular patrol of guards—these were deliberately quiet, trying to avoid detection. I smiled to myself and quickly stored the golden cores in my spatial ring.

I positioned myself casually on a chair, appearing to read a book on alchemy. Then I waited.

The door burst open with a crack of splintering wood. Seven figures rushed in, surrounding me in an instant. Each radiated the unmistakable aura of the Military Marquis realm—high-level cultivators who could level small villages with ease.

"Liam Knight," the leader said, a tall woman with a jagged scar across her face. "Hand over the Concentric Pill formula, and we might let you live."

I closed my book slowly. "Seven Military Marquis against one alchemist? Seems excessive."

"We've heard you're not just any alchemist," another said, a stocky man with a shaved head. "Rumors say you killed Jeremy Thornton single-handedly."

"Rumors can be useful things," I replied, rising to my feet. "Especially when you're the one spreading them."

Confusion flashed across their faces.

"You think I accidentally let Colin McDaniel announce to everyone that I possessed the formula?" I chuckled. "I wanted him to tell everyone. I wanted you all to come."

The scarred woman's eyes narrowed. "What game are you playing?"

"No game. Just a simple transaction." My voice hardened. "I don't have the formula you seek. I never did. But you have something I want."

"And what's that?" the shaved man asked warily.

"Your golden cores."

Understanding dawned in their eyes, quickly followed by anger and fear. The scarred woman laughed harshly.

"You think you can take all seven of us? Your arrogance is astounding."

I didn't bother responding with words. Instead, I unleashed my cultivation energy, letting it flood the room like a tidal wave. The pressure was immediate and crushing, causing several of them to stagger back.

"Impossible," one whispered. "This is beyond Military Marquis."

I smiled coldly. "You came hunting a formula. Instead, you found something much worse."

They attacked as one, desperation fueling their movements. Blades of energy sliced through the air toward me from multiple directions. Spirit weapons materialized in their hands, glowing with deadly intent.

I stood motionless until the last possible moment, then moved.

To them, I must have seemed to vanish, reappearing behind the scarred woman. My hand pierced her back before she could turn, gripping her golden core directly. Her scream died in her throat as I ripped it free.

The others reacted with furious attacks, but they were too slow. I danced between them like smoke, untouchable and lethal. Each movement was economical, designed to end lives and harvest cores with maximum efficiency.

The shaved man lasted longer than the others, his defense unusually strong. When I finally broke through his guard, he gasped, "Who are you?"

"Someone who doesn't waste opportunities," I answered, plunging my hand into his chest.

The fight lasted less than thirty seconds. When it ended, seven bodies lay scattered across the floor, and seven golden cores pulsed in my hand, still warm from their owners' bodies.

I examined my handiwork dispassionately. These weren't innocent people. They'd come to kill me for a formula they believed could make them rich and powerful. Their deaths wouldn't trouble my conscience.

I gathered their cores carefully, adding them to my collection. "With these people, I already have eighteen golden cores," I murmured, satisfaction flowing through me.

Each core would accelerate my cultivation exponentially, pushing me closer to the power I needed to save Isabelle. The trap had worked perfectly.

As I prepared to dispose of the bodies, I sensed another presence approaching—lighter footsteps this time, hurried and alarmed. I tensed, ready for another fight, but relaxed when I recognized Tilda Avery's distinctive gait.

She appeared in the doorway, took one look at the carnage, and pressed her hand to her mouth.

"What happened here?" she whispered.

I met her horrified gaze calmly. "Just clearing up some misunderstandings about that formula everyone thinks I have."

Her eyes moved from the bodies to my blood-spattered clothes, then back to my face. "They came for the Concentric Pill."

"They did."

"And you..." She gestured at the devastation.

"I gave them exactly what they deserved." I wiped blood from my hands. "Now, we should probably discuss how to explain seven dead Military Marquis cultivators in my quarters. I imagine your brother will have questions."

Her expression shifted from shock to calculation. "Leave that to me. But Liam..." She hesitated. "This changes things. You're not just an alchemist, are you?"

I smiled coldly. "No, Tilda. I'm not just an alchemist. And that's something your family would do well to remember."