Rise of The Abandoned Husband

Cassius Westwood's face drained of all color as he stared at me. His lips trembled as he struggled to form words.

"I... I was away on business when it happened," he stammered. "I only heard about the destruction afterward. Please, Lord Knight, there must be some misunderstanding."

Behind him, his son Kael looked utterly confused. "Father? What's happening? Who is this man?"

I studied Cassius coldly. The way his eyes darted around told me he was searching for an escape route. The other men who had emerged from the carriages were shifting uncomfortably, sensing the dangerous shift in atmosphere.

"So you admit you're part of the Sky Harmony League?" I asked, my voice deceptively calm.

"I was... but I'm no longer affiliated," Cassius said quickly. "I've retired from all League activities. I'm simply a businessman now."

"A businessman who threatens women and seizes their property when they won't become your son's 'companion'?" I took a step forward, and Cassius instinctively retreated. "That doesn't sound like retirement to me."

"It was just a minor negotiation," Kael interjected, apparently still oblivious to the gravity of the situation. "The Hansen family owes us money. We were offering a perfectly reasonable arrangement."

"Shut up, boy!" Cassius hissed at his son, but it was too late.

"An hour," I said, looking at the setting sun. "I gave you an hour to return with your family on their knees to apologize to Kathleen. Instead, you brought reinforcements."

"Please, Lord Knight," Cassius fell to his knees now, finally understanding the danger. "We'll forgive the debt entirely. We'll never approach the Hansen family again. Just let us leave."

Kael stared at his father in shock. "Father, what are you doing? Get up! Why are you kneeling to this nobody?"

"He's not a nobody, you fool!" Cassius shouted. "He's the man who destroyed the entire League in one night! He killed everyone—Elder Zhao, Elder Lin, even Supreme Elder Wu!"

Finally, comprehension dawned on Kael's face, quickly replaced by terror. The other men were already backing toward their carriages.

"I'm sorry," Kael blurted out, dropping to his knees beside his father. "I didn't know who you were. Please forgive my ignorance, Lord Knight!"

I looked from father to son, feeling nothing but contempt. These were the type of men who had tormented me for years—arrogant when they thought they held power, sniveling when confronted by someone stronger.

"The hour is up," I said simply.

A strangled sound escaped Cassius's throat. "Please, I beg you—"

In one fluid motion, I appeared before him. My hand shot out, gripping his throat. "You'll never threaten another family. You'll never strike another woman."

Cassius's eyes bulged as he clawed at my hand. I could have ended him quickly, but I wanted him to feel fear—the same fear Kathleen must have felt when his son threatened her.

"Please," he gasped. "I have wealth... connections... I can help you—"

"I don't need anything from you," I replied, tightening my grip.

With a quick twist, I snapped his neck. His body went limp in my grasp.

I dropped him unceremoniously to the ground and turned to Kael, who was scrambling backward on hands and knees, face twisted in horror.

"No, please! I'll do anything! I'll leave town! I'll never bother anyone again!" he sobbed.

I walked toward him slowly. "Would you have shown Kathleen mercy if I hadn't been here today? Would you have listened to her pleas?"

"Yes! I swear!" he cried, though the lie was transparent.

"No, you wouldn't have," I said. "Men like you never do."

A golden needle formed between my fingers. One flick of my wrist, and it pierced Kael's heart. His eyes widened in shock before the life drained from them.

The other men had fled to their carriages. I let them go. They would spread the word—anyone who threatened those under my protection would face my wrath.

I turned to see Kathleen standing in the doorway, her face pale with shock. The Man with the Mustache stood beside her, looking unsurprised.

"Your problem is solved," I told her as I approached. "The Westwoods won't trouble you again."

"You... you killed them," she whispered. "Just like that."

"Yes." I saw no point in denying it or justifying my actions.

She backed away as I reached the steps. "Who are you? The Liam I knew would never..."

"The Liam you knew was weak," I said bluntly. "He would have tried to reason with them, to find a peaceful solution. And later, when they returned with more men, you would have suffered for it."

"But there must have been another way," she insisted, tears welling in her eyes.

I shook my head. "I've learned through painful experience that showing mercy to your enemies only gives them another chance to hurt you or those you care about."

The Man with the Mustache cleared his throat. "Perhaps we should dispose of the, ah, evidence before anyone else comes along?"

I nodded and extended my hand. A ball of fire formed in my palm, growing until it engulfed my entire arm. With a controlled gesture, I directed the flames toward the bodies. They were reduced to ash within seconds.

"Their carriages and horses?" the Man with the Mustache inquired.

"Leave them," I decided. "The drivers will return for them once they realize no one is chasing them. And it will serve as a reminder to anyone else who might think of crossing us."

Kathleen had retreated further into the house, watching me with wary eyes. I understood her reaction—she was seeing a side of me that the old Liam had kept carefully hidden, even from himself.

"I should go," I told her gently. "You'll be safe now. If anyone else bothers you, send word to Heaven Gate. My people will handle it."

"Will they handle it like you just did?" she asked, voice barely audible.

"If necessary."

She nodded slowly, not in agreement but in acceptance of who I had become. "Thank you for your help, Liam. But I think... I think it's best if you leave now."

The rejection stung, but I respected her decision. "Of course. Goodbye, Kathleen."

As the Man with the Mustache and I walked away from the Hansen estate, he cast me a sidelong glance. "That was rather efficient. Not even a speech about justice or redemption first."

"Would it have changed anything?" I asked.

"No," he admitted. "But it might have made your friend feel better about watching you execute two men in her front yard."

I considered his words as we continued toward the town center. "Perhaps. But I'm tired of pretending to be something I'm not."

"And what exactly are you, Liam Knight?" he asked, curiosity evident in his voice.

"I'm not entirely sure anymore," I answered honestly. "But I know I'm done hesitating when people threaten those I care about."

We reached the airship terminal just as the sun disappeared below the horizon. Our flight to Veridia City wasn't scheduled until morning, so we found a nearby inn to stay the night.

Sitting in the inn's quiet dining room, I nursed a cup of wine while the Man with the Mustache devoured a platter of roasted meat.

"You know," he said between bites, "your killing intent has grown significantly since I first met you."

"Has it?" I wasn't surprised by his observation.

"Indeed. You used to agonize over every life you took. Now you dispatch enemies without blinking."

I swirled the wine in my cup, watching the deep red liquid catch the lamplight. "I've come to accept it as part of my path."

"The path of cultivation, you mean?"

"Yes." I took a slow sip. "Every cultivation method shapes the practitioner. Mine seems to be pushing me toward a more... decisive approach."

The Man with the Mustache wiped his greasy fingers on a napkin. "Interesting theory. But I don't think it's your cultivation method driving this change."

"No?" I raised an eyebrow.

"No. I think it's simply who you were always meant to be." He leaned back in his chair. "The meek Liam was the aberration—created by years of oppression and abuse. This version of you? The one who eliminates threats without hesitation? That's the real Liam Knight."

His words settled uncomfortably in my mind. Was he right? Had I been suppressing my true nature all along?

"Perhaps," I conceded. "Or perhaps I'm becoming what I need to be to survive in this world."

"Six of one, half a dozen of the other," he shrugged, reaching for his drink. "As long as you don't start executing people for spilling your tea, I'm not complaining."

I almost smiled at that. "I'll try to maintain some perspective."

Hundreds of miles away, Ms. Hayward stood before the council of the Veridia City Martial Guild, trying desperately to hide her trembling hands.

Her body had finally recovered from the injuries inflicted by Liam Knight, but the memories still haunted her. Every night, she dreamed of those two horrifying corpses—the ones that had torn apart her team of elite cultivators like they were made of paper.

"You failed in your mission," Emerson Holmes stated coldly from his elevated seat. The other council members flanked him, their expressions equally severe.

"The target was... unexpectedly powerful," she managed to reply. "And he had help—those corpses—"

"Yes, these corpses interest us greatly," Emerson interrupted. "Our sources indicate they possess power beyond anything we've documented before."

Another council member leaned forward. "And the girl. What can you tell us about her?"

Ms. Hayward swallowed hard. "She appears to be a normal child, but there's something unusual about her energy signature. The man—Liam Knight—seems protective of her."

"A normal child wouldn't be accompanied by such entities," Emerson mused. "We believe she may be crucial to our understanding of these corpses."

Ms. Hayward fought the urge to beg them to send someone else. Anyone else. The memory of those corpses' dead eyes turning toward her made her skin crawl.

"Your new mission," Emerson continued, "is to acquire these corpses and bring the girl to us. Alive and unharmed."

Horror washed over her. "But sir, those things... they're not natural. They killed everyone—"

"Which is precisely why we want them," another council member snapped. "Imagine such power under our control."

Emerson nodded. "You'll be provided with a Martial Saint Weapon this time. It should be sufficient to subdue the entities long enough to transport them."

Ms. Hayward knew arguing was futile. The Guild's decision was final. But as she bowed and accepted her new orders, one thought dominated her mind: Liam Knight would kill her before he let her take the girl or those corpses.

And after what she'd seen, she wasn't entirely sure who—or what—would be more dangerous to face.