Rise of The Abandoned Husband

I stood before the elder of the Crimson Flame Sect, his eyes wide with disbelief. The fragments of his shattered phoenix technique still dissipated around us, tiny embers falling like dying stars.

"You're not human," he hissed, backing away from me. "What monster are you?"

I didn't answer. Words were pointless now.

The elder's expression hardened as he reached into his robe. "Then I shall show you what true power is."

He pulled out a gleaming crimson dagger, its blade pulsing with an ancient energy that made the air around it warp and distort. Even from several feet away, I could feel its oppressive aura.

"Behold the Blood Essence Dagger," he proclaimed, a desperate smile stretching across his face. "A true Martial Saint Weapon bestowed upon our sect five hundred years ago."

The dagger hummed with malevolent energy. Red mist began to seep from its edge, filling the chamber with the scent of iron and death.

"Even you cannot stand against a Martial Saint Weapon," the elder declared, his confidence returning. "Your arrogance ends here!"

He lunged forward with surprising speed, the dagger trailing crimson light. I shifted to dodge, but the weapon seemed to bend reality around it, adjusting its trajectory to follow my movement.

The blade sliced across my chest, cutting through my defense with frightening ease. Pain lanced through me as blood sprayed from the wound.

I stumbled back, momentarily shocked. The cut was deeper than I expected, the pain more intense. This was indeed no ordinary weapon.

The elder laughed, circling me like a predator. "Not so confident now, are you? This dagger has tasted the blood of thousands. Each drop it consumes makes it stronger."

My blood dripped onto the floor as I assessed the situation. The wound was already beginning to close thanks to my healing abilities, but the fact that it had cut me at all was concerning.

"One taste of your blood, and it knows your essence," the elder continued, his eyes gleaming with renewed hope. "You cannot escape it now."

He attacked again, the dagger moving even faster, seeking my blood like a living thing. I dodged more carefully this time, but the blade still managed to nick my arm, drawing another line of crimson.

Enough of this.

I centered myself, reaching deep within to the power granted by the Avery family—the Power of Martial Saint. Golden light erupted from my body, enveloping me in its radiance. The wound on my chest sealed completely as my strength skyrocketed.

The elder faltered, his confidence wavering as he felt the shift in energy.

"Impossible," he whispered. "You're not a Martial Saint. You can't be."

I looked at my hands, marveling at the golden light emanating from them. "Not yet. But close enough."

With renewed vigor, the elder charged, his desperation evident in each frantic swing of the dagger. "Die! Just die already!"

This time, I didn't dodge. As the blade approached my heart, I caught his wrist with one hand, stopping the attack cold. The elder strained against my grip, his face contorted with effort, but he couldn't move an inch.

"Let me show you the difference between us," I said quietly.

My free hand shot forward, slamming into his chest with controlled force. The impact sent him flying backward, crashing into the chamber wall. The dagger remained clutched in his hand as he slumped to the ground, coughing blood.

"Is this all a Martial Saint Weapon can do?" I asked, genuinely curious. The legends spoke of these artifacts with such reverence, yet this one had barely inconvenienced me.

The elder struggled to his feet, blood streaming from his mouth. "You haven't seen its true power yet."

He raised the dagger above his head, and his voice took on a ritual cadence. "Blood for blood, life for life. I offer myself to unleash your wrath!"

The dagger plunged into his own chest. Instead of falling, the elder's body arched backward as the dagger began to consume him from within. His skin dried and shriveled, his eyes sank into their sockets, and his hair withered and fell out in clumps.

The dagger floated free of his chest, now glowing with blinding crimson light. The elder's desiccated corpse collapsed to the ground, nothing more than a husk.

The weapon hovered in the air before me, pulsing with newfound power. Then it shot forward with unimaginable speed, aiming straight for my heart.

I didn't move. Instead, I channeled the Power of Martial Saint into my fist and met the dagger's charge head-on.

Golden light collided with crimson. The chamber shook with the impact, dust and debris raining from the ceiling.

For a moment, the two forces seemed evenly matched. Then, slowly but surely, my golden energy began to overpower the crimson aura of the dagger.

Cracks appeared along the blade's surface, thin lines of golden light breaking through the crimson glow. The dagger's hum turned into a high-pitched whine, like a scream of agony.

With one final push, I sent a wave of golden energy through my fist. The dagger shattered into a thousand fragments, its ancient power dispersing in a flash of crimson light.

I stood alone in the sudden silence, staring at the shards of what had once been a Martial Saint Weapon. So this was the power I now possessed. The reality of it settled over me like a mantle—heavy with responsibility yet intoxicating in its potential.

A groan drew my attention to the corner of the chamber. Another elder had emerged, his face pale with fear as he witnessed the destruction of their sacred weapon.

"Please," he begged, falling to his knees. "Spare us. The Crimson Flame Sect surrenders to you completely."

I approached him slowly, my footsteps echoing in the chamber. "Surrenders? After what you've done?"

"We'll give you anything," he pleaded. "Our treasures, our techniques, our loyalty. The sect will be yours to command."

I looked around at the chamber, at the destruction my brief battle had caused. "It's too late for that."

"Why?" he asked, genuine confusion in his voice. "Why destroy us completely when you could rule us?"

I knelt before him, meeting his gaze directly. "Because I need to send a message. The world needs to know what happens to those who stand against me."

Fear bloomed in his eyes as understanding dawned. "You're going to kill us all."

"Not all," I replied. "Some will escape to spread the word. But the Crimson Flame Sect ends today."

"Monster," he whispered.

I didn't deny it. Instead, I placed my hand on his chest, directly over his golden core. "Your contribution will help me reach the true Martial Saint realm."

His eyes widened in horror as my hand sank into his flesh, bypassing skin and muscle to reach the glowing sphere at his center. He didn't even have time to scream before I extracted his core, a pulsing golden orb that thrummed with decades of cultivation.

I absorbed it immediately, feeling its energy integrate with my own. Another step closer to my goal.

Rising to my feet, I left the chamber in search of the remaining Marquises of the Crimson Flame Sect. Each one I found met the same fate—shock, resistance, defeat, and finally, the extraction of their golden core.

Some fought bravely. Others begged. One even tried to bargain, offering information about other sects that opposed me. I took their cores regardless.

As the sun began to set, I stood at the entrance to the Crimson Flame Sect, surveying what remained. Flames licked at the buildings, smoke rising into the darkening sky. The few survivors had long since fled, carrying tales of horror that would spread throughout the cultivation world.

I had collected thirteen golden cores today—a significant harvest. Each one brought me closer to the power I needed to face what was coming. To save Isabelle.

With a casual wave of my palm, I sent a final surge of golden energy through the sect grounds. Buildings collapsed, formations shattered, and the very foundation of the mountain trembled. In seconds, the once-proud Crimson Flame Sect was reduced to nothing but smoking ruins.

I turned and walked away, the golden cores pulsing within me like captured stars. The message had been sent. Anyone who dared stand in my path would meet the same fate.

Let them fear me. Fear would keep them from becoming obstacles.

As night fell completely, I looked up at the stars, wondering if Isabelle could see them too, wherever she was being held. I would find her. And when I did, not even the heavens themselves would be able to stop me from taking her back.

Behind me, the ruins of the Crimson Flame Sect continued to burn, a beacon of destruction visible for miles around. The annihilation was complete.