Rise of The Abandoned Husband

The Veridia City Martial Guild's headquarters loomed like a mountain of polished marble and obsidian in the center of the city. I'd seen it countless times before, but now, knowing what happened within those gleaming walls—knowing they held Isabelle captive somewhere inside—made my blood boil.

But I wasn't there. Not yet.

I was watching Ms. Hayward from the shadows as she knelt before the Guild's council, her head bowed in deference. Through a complex tracking formation I'd placed on her during our last encounter, I could observe her movements from afar. The Man with the Mustache's technique was proving invaluable.

"I have one more request, council members," Ms. Hayward said, her voice steady despite her obvious fear. "It concerns Broderick."

"Your python?" Emerson Holmes raised an eyebrow. "What about it?"

"He's served me loyally for fifteen years. I request a shape-changing pill for him."

Murmurs rippled through the council chamber. Such pills were rare and typically reserved for humans with severe deformities or injuries.

"You wish to use such a valuable resource on a mere beast?" one council member scoffed.

Ms. Hayward's fists clenched at her sides. "Broderick is far more than a beast. He's executed over thirty missions for the Guild. He deserves this recognition."

"And what would you have this python become?" Emerson asked, leaning forward with mild curiosity.

"A man," she replied without hesitation. "So he may fight alongside me properly."

I found myself fascinated by this unexpected display of emotion from the normally cold-blooded woman. She genuinely cared for her snake. It was the first human quality I'd seen in her.

"Very well," Emerson finally agreed. "Given your new mission's importance, we'll grant this request. The pill will be provided before you depart."

Ms. Hayward's shoulders visibly relaxed. "Thank you, council members. I won't disappoint you."

I broke the connection as she rose to leave. So she was coming after us again—this time for Clara and the corpses. And with a shape-shifting snake as backup. Perfect.

"Anything interesting?" The Man with the Mustache asked, startling me from my thoughts. He was sprawled on a chair in his cluttered living room, picking his teeth with a silver needle.

"Ms. Hayward just got permission to turn her pet python into a man," I replied, standing up and stretching. "And she's been ordered to capture Clara and the corpses."

He choked on his wine. "Excuse me? Turn her what into a what?"

"Her python. Into a man. With a shape-changing pill."

"Well, that's disturbing on multiple levels." He set down his glass. "And completely unsurprising, knowing her. Anything else?"

"They're giving her a Martial Saint Weapon this time." I frowned. "They're serious about capturing those corpses."

"Of course they are. Two walking, fighting dead men who can rip apart elite cultivators? The Guild probably wants to reverse-engineer them into an army."

The thought made my skin crawl. Those corpses weren't just powerful—they were unnatural. Even I wasn't entirely comfortable with them, despite their apparent loyalty to Clara.

"We need to move them somewhere safer," I decided. "If the Guild found us here once, they can do it again."

The Man with the Mustache groaned dramatically. "Please tell me you're not planning to bring those creepy things to my summer home in Silvershore. The neighbors already think I'm eccentric."

"Not there." I shook my head. "I'm thinking about Havenwood City."

"Your hometown?" He raised an eyebrow. "Isn't that a bit obvious?"

"Sometimes the most obvious place is the last one they'd look." I smiled grimly. "Besides, I know every hidden corner of that city."

Just then, a communication talisman in my pocket heated up. I pulled it out to find Emerson Holmes's name glowing on its surface.

"Speak of the devil," I muttered, activating it.

"Liam," Emerson's voice came through, artificially casual. "I hear you've acquired some interesting... artifacts."

My jaw tightened. "If by 'artifacts' you mean the corpses that ripped apart your team, then yes."

"Such hostility," he chuckled. "I merely wished to offer you a fair price for them. The Guild collects rare specimens, as you know."

"They're not for sale, Emerson."

"Everything has a price, my friend. Even information about a certain Ms. Ashworth's whereabouts."

My heart skipped a beat, but I kept my voice level. "If you know where Isabelle is, you'd better tell me now."

"Or what?" His tone turned smug. "You'll storm the Guild headquarters? Even you aren't that foolish, Liam."

I crushed the talisman in my hand, severing the connection. The bastard was playing games, dangling Isabelle like bait.

"We're leaving for Havenwood. Now," I told the Man with the Mustache. "Pack whatever you need."

"What about Clara?" he asked, already moving to collect his essentials.

"She comes with us. The corpses too."

Within an hour, we were in the air, aboard a private airship I'd chartered using connections from Heaven Gate. Clara slept peacefully in one of the cabins, while the coffin containing her macabre guardians was secured in the cargo hold.

Watching the lights of Veridia City fade into the distance, I couldn't shake the feeling we were running instead of fighting. It wasn't my style. But with Clara to protect and Isabelle still missing, I needed to be strategic.

By dawn, we reached Havenwood City. The place looked smaller than I remembered, the buildings less impressive after my time in Veridia. But it was still home, in a way.

"Take us to the northern district," I instructed the pilot.

We landed in an abandoned courtyard behind what used to be the Sterling family's textile warehouse. My former in-laws had long ago abandoned it after their business declined.

"Charming location," the Man with the Mustache commented, wrinkling his nose at the overgrown weeds and crumbling walls.

"It's secluded and forgotten," I replied. "Perfect for what we need."

I led them through a hidden door in the warehouse floor, revealing a basement level that few knew existed. In my youth, I'd discovered this place while doing menial work for the Sterling family. I'd cleaned it up and used it as a refuge when their abuse became too much.

"You're full of surprises, aren't you?" The Man with the Mustache whistled as he took in the spacious underground chamber. "How long have you had this little hideaway?"

"Years. No one has found it yet." I helped Clara down the stairs. "This will be home for a while."

We spent the morning setting up protective formations and arranging the limited furniture I'd had delivered. Clara seemed fascinated by the place, exploring every corner with childlike curiosity.

"Is this where you lived before?" she asked, running her fingers along the wall.

"Sometimes," I admitted. "When I needed to be alone."

"Were you sad here?" Her question caught me off guard with its perceptiveness.

I considered lying but decided against it. "Yes, I was often sad here. But it was still better than being where I wasn't wanted."

She nodded solemnly, as if she understood perfectly. Perhaps she did.

"The corpses will be safe here," I told her, pointing to an adjoining room I'd reinforced with steel plates. "No one will find them."

"They have names, you know," she said matter-of-factly. "The tall one is Grigori. The other is Matthias."

I exchanged glances with the Man with the Mustache, who looked equally disturbed. "How do you know that?"

Clara shrugged. "They told me. In my dreams."

Before I could question her further, a sensation of danger prickled at my senses. Someone was approaching—multiple someones, with significant cultivation.

"Stay here," I ordered, racing up the stairs.

Outside, I found five figures in purple robes—Guild disciples. They stood in a semicircle, blocking the exit from the courtyard.

"Liam Knight," the leader stepped forward. "By order of the Veridia City Martial Guild, you are to surrender the unnatural corpses and the child in your possession."

I crossed my arms, letting my aura flare. The golden light of a Martial Saint's power erupted around me, casting harsh shadows across the courtyard. "And if I refuse?"

The disciples faltered, clearly unprepared for the intensity of my power. Their leader swallowed visibly but held his ground. "Then we are authorized to use force."

I laughed. I couldn't help it. "Force? Against me?"

With a casual gesture, I released a wave of pressure that drove them to their knees. They gasped for breath, faces contorted in pain as my aura crushed down on them.

"Go back to your masters," I growled. "Tell them if they send anyone else after Clara or the corpses, they'll return in pieces."

"That won't be necessary, Liam." A familiar voice cut through the tension.

Ms. Hayward stepped into the courtyard, flanked by a tall, muscular man I didn't recognize. His eyes, though—slitted and cold—reminded me of a reptile.

"I see Broderick got his wish," I nodded toward the man.

Ms. Hayward's lips curved into a thin smile. "Indeed. The shape-changing pill worked perfectly."

The snake-turned-man regarded me with eerie stillness, his tongue occasionally flicking out to taste the air.

"What do you want, Ms. Hayward?" I asked, though I already knew.

"The corpses. And the girl." She stepped closer, seemingly unaffected by my aura. "The Guild has authorized me to negotiate."

"There's nothing to negotiate. They're under my protection."

"Everything has a price," she echoed Emerson's words. "Even you must want something badly enough."

"Isabelle," I stated flatly. "Tell me where she is, and we can talk."

Ms. Hayward's expression revealed nothing. "That information is valuable. More valuable than a little girl, perhaps."

The Man with the Mustache appeared beside me, having silently made his way up from the basement. "This is getting tiresome," he sighed. "How about a wager?"

Both Ms. Hayward and I turned to look at him in surprise.

"A wager?" she repeated.

"Yes." He twirled his mustache thoughtfully. "Liam and your new... man-snake are both formidable. Why not settle this with a contest? If Liam wins, you provide Isabelle's location. If Broderick wins, Liam hands over the corpses."

"And the girl?" Ms. Hayward asked sharply.

"The girl stays with Liam regardless," he replied firmly. "She's not part of this bargain."

Ms. Hayward considered this for a long moment. "What kind of contest?"

"The upcoming Celestial Tournament in Veridia City," the Man with the Mustache suggested. "Both Liam and Broderick can enter. Whoever advances further wins our wager."

I shot him a questioning look. This was the first I'd heard of any tournament.

"Think about it," he whispered to me. "It buys us time, and it's on neutral ground with witnesses."

"Fine," I decided. "I agree to these terms."

Ms. Hayward exchanged glances with Broderick, who gave an almost imperceptible nod. "We accept as well. But we should formalize this with a blood oath."

The blood oath was simple but binding. If either of us broke the terms, we would suffer severe consequences—potentially fatal ones.

As Ms. Hayward and her entourage departed, I turned to the Man with the Mustache. "What tournament did you just enter me in?"

"Oh, just the most prestigious fighting competition in the eastern regions," he replied casually. "Happens once every three years. Participants from all major sects and guilds. Nothing to worry about."

"And when were you planning to tell me about this?"

"Eventually." He shrugged. "Probably after I'd convinced you it was a good idea. Which it is, by the way. We needed time, and now we have it."

I sighed heavily. "And if I lose?"

"You won't." He patted my shoulder confidently. "But if you do, we'll deal with that problem when we come to it."

As I watched Ms. Hayward's retreating figure, I couldn't shake the feeling that I'd just made a dangerous bargain—one that might cost more than I was prepared to pay.