Rise of The Abandoned Husband

"I've decided to accept your offer," I said, extending my hand with the ring resting on my palm. "A fair exchange for the artifacts."

The tension in Mallory's shoulders visibly eased. His eyes gleamed with poorly concealed triumph as he reached for the ring.

"A wise decision, Elder Knight," he said, voice thick with satisfaction. "I knew you were a reasonable man."

I dropped the ring into an ornate embroidered box he held out. Mallory snapped it shut with evident relief, his fingers caressing the lid like a lover's touch.

"Ladies, you're dismissed," he ordered, not even glancing at the women who had failed to seduce me.

They filed out silently, some casting curious glances over their shoulders. I watched them go, noting how quickly Mallory discarded tools that no longer served his purpose.

"Please, let's drink to our new alliance," Mallory suggested, gesturing to the laden table. His son Hanley appeared from a side door, joining us with a strained smile.

"To mutual benefit," Mallory declared, pouring a ruby-colored wine into three ornate cups. He handed one to me and another to Hanley, keeping the third for himself.

I took the cup, swirling the liquid while studying both men. Hanley couldn't quite hide his smirk. Mallory's eyes followed my every move with the intensity of a predator waiting for prey to fall.

"To new friendships," I replied, raising the cup to my lips.

I let the wine touch my tongue but didn't swallow, instead keeping it in my mouth. The bitter undertaste confirmed my suspicions.

"Excellent vintage," I commented after pretending to swallow, discreetly spitting the wine back into the cup when I lowered it.

"Only the finest for honored guests," Mallory replied, setting his own untouched cup aside. "Now, with our business concluded, perhaps we should discuss future collaborations?"

Before he could continue, the main doors swung open. Six men entered, each wearing the distinctive robes of the Celestial Craft Pavilion's elite guard. They moved to strategic positions around the room.

"For your protection, of course," Mallory explained, noticing my gaze. "One can't be too careful with such valuable artifacts changing hands."

"Of course," I agreed mildly. "Though I'm curious—when exactly did you plan to drop this charade?"

Mallory's smile froze. "Charade? I'm afraid I don't understand."

"No?" I set my cup down. "Then perhaps your son would care to explain why he's been smirking since I drank from this poisoned cup?"

Hanley's smug expression faltered. Mallory's facade remained intact, but his eyes hardened.

"Poison? That's a serious accusation, Elder Knight. The wine is the same we're all drinking."

I laughed softly. "Except you haven't taken a single sip, have you? Neither has your son."

Mallory's pretense cracked. His lips curved into a cold smile that suited his true nature far better than the friendly mask he'd worn.

"You should be feeling the effects by now," he said, dropping all pretense. "A specially formulated paralytic. Quite expensive, but worth every spirit stone to neutralize someone of your... abilities."

"I should be," I agreed. "If I'd swallowed any of it."

For the first time, uncertainty flickered across Mallory's face.

"You're bluffing," Hanley interjected. "That poison acts on contact with the mouth. Swallowing isn't necessary."

I turned to him with a pitying smile. "Someone sold you inferior goods. A basic alchemist would know that particular poison requires digestive absorption."

As Elder of the Celestial Apothecary Guild, I'd recognized the bitter almond scent immediately—Midnight Paralytic, potent only when metabolized in the stomach.

Mallory's eyes narrowed. "It doesn't matter. You're outnumbered and outmatched."

He snapped his fingers. The six guards moved closer, revealing themselves as Marquis-level cultivators. No ordinary guards, then—these were elites of the Celestial Craft Pavilion.

"I'm curious," I said conversationally, seemingly unbothered by the closing circle of powerful cultivators. "What was your plan after poisoning me? Kill me and claim I attacked you? Or just steal back the artifacts and leave me humiliated?"

"Both options were considered," Mallory admitted. "Your death would cause complications with the Apothecary Guild, but accidents happen."

"And the ring?" I asked. "What's so special about it that you'd risk the wrath of my Guild?"

Mallory caressed the embroidered box. "That's none of your concern anymore. You fulfilled your purpose by returning it."

"Did I?" I smiled. "Open the box, Mallory."

His confidence wavered. Slowly, he unlatched the ornate container and peered inside. His face contorted with rage.

"This isn't the ring!" he snarled, upending the box. A simple copper band—a common training ring used by novice alchemists—clattered onto the table.

"Where is it?" he demanded, taking a menacing step toward me.

"Did you really think I'd walk into an obvious trap carrying the actual prize?" I shook my head. "I may be young, but I'm not a fool."

Hanley's face flushed with anger. "Search him!"

Two of the Marquis moved toward me. I remained perfectly still.

"Before you do something stupid," I warned, "consider why I came here knowing it was a trap."

Mallory raised his hand, halting his men. "Explain yourself."

"I wanted to confirm what I already suspected—that you're desperate for that ring. Desperate enough to poison an Elder of the Apothecary Guild." I leaned forward. "That tells me everything I need to know about its value."

"This was all just information gathering?" Mallory's voice was dangerously quiet.

"Partially," I admitted. "I was also curious if you'd honor your part of our bargain. Those artifacts are now safely stored in my space rings, after all."

"Return them immediately," Mallory hissed. "Or my men will take them from your corpse."

I laughed, the sound echoing in the tense room. "Now we see your true face, Pavilion Master. So much for building a relationship."

"Father," Hanley interrupted, his voice strained. "Perhaps we're being hasty. Elder Knight clearly came prepared. Maybe we can still negotiate."

Mallory hesitated, visibly wrestling with his fury. Finally, he forced a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"My son makes a valid point. This was merely a... misunderstanding. A test, if you will, to assess your worthiness as an ally."

"A test involving poison?" I raised an eyebrow.

"A harmless sleeping draught, nothing more," he lied smoothly. "To see how you'd react under pressure. You've impressed us with your foresight."

I stared at him, letting the silence stretch uncomfortably.

"Let's start fresh," he finally offered. "Return the real ring, keep the artifacts as a gesture of goodwill, and we can forge a genuine alliance."

"An alliance," I repeated. "After you just threatened to kill me."

"A regrettable negotiation tactic," Mallory said with a dismissive wave. "In our world, strength must sometimes be demonstrated before respect is granted."

I nodded slowly, as if considering his words. "You make a compelling point about demonstrations of strength."

Without warning, I moved—faster than any of them could track. One moment I was seated; the next, I stood behind the nearest Marquis. Before anyone could react, I clamped my hand on the back of his head.

There was a sickening crunch as I crushed his skull with a single squeeze.

The body hadn't even hit the floor before I was back in my chair, casually wiping blood from my hand with a napkin.

"A demonstration," I explained calmly to their shocked faces. "Since we're being honest now."

The remaining Marquis backed away, terror evident in their eyes. They'd never seen someone move with such speed—or kill one of their own so effortlessly.

"Y-you..." Mallory stammered, his face ashen. "This is madness! We were just—it was just a joke!"

"A joke?" I tilted my head. "Like the poison was a sleeping draught? Like your threat to take artifacts from my corpse was friendly banter?"

I stood slowly, and everyone in the room flinched.

"Thank you, Pavilion Master Poe," I said conversationally.

"F-for what?" he asked, voice trembling.

"For the magical artifacts, of course." I smiled coldly. "And for the golden core your son's about to provide me."

Hanley's face drained of color. "W-what did you say?"

"You heard me." My gaze locked onto his. "A Marquis-level golden core will fetch a nice price. Or perhaps I'll absorb it myself. Either way, it's mine now."

"Guards!" Mallory screamed, backing toward the door. "Kill him! Kill him now!"

The remaining Marquis hesitated, looking between their master and the corpse of their comrade.

"Do you really want to end up like him?" I asked them quietly.

Two immediately dropped to their knees, bowing their heads in submission. The others looked to Mallory for guidance, torn between fear of me and loyalty to their master.

Mallory's face contorted with rage and terror. "You'll never leave this pavilion alive! I have hundreds of guards!"

"I don't need to leave alive," I replied with terrible calm. "I just need to ensure you die before me."