Rise of The Abandoned Husband

I watched Ms. Hayward's face carefully as my words hung in the air between us. The color drained from her cheeks, and her eyes darted nervously to her son, then back to me.

"Spirit binding?" she whispered, confirming my suspicions. "How did you even discover—"

"That doesn't matter," I cut her off. "What matters is removing it. Isabelle is suffering, and I need to free her."

Broderick stepped forward again, his face set in determination. "I don't know what you're talking about, but my mother isn't going anywhere with you."

I respected his protective instinct but had no time for it. "This isn't a request, and I'm not here to hurt her. I just need information."

Ms. Hayward placed a gentle hand on her son's shoulder. "Broderick, please. Give us a moment."

"Mom—"

"It's alright," she insisted, though her trembling voice suggested otherwise.

Reluctantly, Broderick backed away but remained within earshot, his eyes never leaving me.

Ms. Hayward lowered her voice. "Spirit binding isn't something easily undone. It's a technique reserved for the Guild's highest echelons."

"But you know about it," I pressed.

She nodded slightly. "I know of it. But the method to remove it..." She shook her head. "That knowledge is beyond my access."

Frustration welled inside me. "You were preparing to run. You know something the Guild doesn't want revealed."

"My situation is... complicated," she admitted, glancing nervously at the windows as if expecting someone to be watching. "I've fallen out of favor with certain powerful figures."

"Because you helped me," I realized aloud.

Her bitter laugh surprised me. "No. The Guild has been using me for years. I'm just another expendable pawn in their grand schemes."

I studied her face, seeing the resignation and fear etched into every line. "Tell me what you know about spirit binding. Anything could help."

She hesitated, then whispered, "It's a technique developed to control those with special bloodlines or unique constitutions. It binds the victim's spiritual essence, preventing them from using their innate powers while allowing the Guild to... harvest what they need."

My fists clenched at the thought of what Isabelle had endured. "And the removal?"

"Only those who applied the binding can remove it," she said. "Or someone of equal or greater power. It requires specific knowledge of the binding formation used."

"So I need to find whoever performed it on Isabelle," I concluded, my heart sinking.

Ms. Hayward looked at me with something like pity. "You'd need to reach the inner sanctum of the Guild. And even if you managed that impossible feat, the person responsible would be protected by—"

A cold, ancient voice finished her sentence from thin air. "By me."

I whirled around as a spectral figure materialized in the center of the room. It was the old man I'd encountered at the entrance to the Mystic Realm—impossibly old yet radiating terrifying power.

Broderick stumbled backward. Ms. Hayward fell to her knees, terror evident in every line of her body.

"M-master," she stammered.

The old man ignored her prostration, his milky eyes fixed on me. "Liam Knight. The troublesome youth who keeps interfering with Guild business."

I maintained my composure despite the chill that ran down my spine. This man's power was palpable—far beyond what I could currently handle.

"And you are?" I asked, keeping my voice steady.

His lips curved in a mirthless smile. "Names hold power, young man. You may simply address me as Elder."

Ms. Hayward remained on her knees, trembling visibly. "Master, I haven't revealed anything crucial, I swear—"

The old man finally turned his attention to her, his expression hardening. "Silence, Hayward. Your failure with the Broderick situation has not gone unnoticed."

Broderick's confused voice cut through the tension. "Mom? What's he talking about?"

The old man's eyebrows rose slightly. "Oh? You never told him? How interesting." He turned to Broderick with mock courtesy. "Your mother was tasked with eliminating you years ago. A test of loyalty, you see. She chose instead to hide you and fabricate your death. Quite the deception she's maintained."

I watched shock and betrayal bloom on Broderick's face. "What? Mom, what is he saying?"

Ms. Hayward rose to her feet, desperation evident in her voice. "Master, please. He's innocent in all this. Take me instead. Punish me for my disobedience, but spare him."

The old man regarded her with cold indifference. "You misunderstand the situation. This isn't negotiation—it's judgment."

With a casual gesture, he activated something unseen. Immediately, Ms. Hayward clutched at her chest, her face contorting in agony.

"Mom!" Broderick rushed to her side as she collapsed.

I moved forward instinctively, but the old man raised a warning hand. "Interfere, and you'll share her fate."

Black lines appeared on Ms. Hayward's skin, spreading like cracks in porcelain. She gasped for breath, reaching for her son's hand.

"I'm sorry," she wheezed. "I never... wanted this life... for you."

Understanding dawned on me. "You marked her internally," I accused the old man. "A death seal."

He didn't deny it. "Standard procedure for Guild members with access to sensitive information. Insurance against betrayal."

Broderick cradled his mother, panic and confusion warring on his face. "Stop it! Whatever you're doing, stop!"

"Broderick," Ms. Hayward whispered, her voice fading as the black lines covered more of her skin. "Run... when you can. Live... for me."

Her body began to dissolve before our eyes, turning to black mist that dissipated into the air. Broderick's hands grasped futilely at the emptiness where his mother had been moments before.

"No," he breathed, shock rendering him almost catatonic. "No, no, no..."

The old man watched impassively. "Such a waste of talent. But discipline must be maintained."

Fury burned through me, temporarily overriding my caution. "You murdered her for having a conscience. For saving her own son."

"I executed a traitor," he corrected coldly. "The Guild's laws are absolute."

"You're monsters," I spat.

The old man studied me with faint amusement. "Says the man who slaughtered hundreds at the Guild compound. Your hands aren't exactly clean, Liam Knight."

I had no response to that. He wasn't entirely wrong.

"As for your quest to free the Ashworth girl," he continued, "abandon it. The binding will remain until we've extracted what we need from her bloodline. After that..." He shrugged. "Well, she won't need to worry about bindings anymore."

Before I could lunge at him—a suicidal move, but my rage was overwhelming my reason—he began to fade.

"We'll meet again soon, Liam Knight. Your interference in Guild affairs has earned you special attention."

With those ominous words, he vanished completely, leaving Broderick and me alone with the empty space where Ms. Hayward had been.

Broderick remained on his knees, staring at his empty hands. Tears streamed down his face, but he made no sound—the shock too profound for normal grief.

"She's gone," he finally whispered. "She's really gone."

I approached carefully, unsure what to say. No words seemed adequate. "I'm sorry."

His head snapped up, his eyes wild with grief and rage. "Sorry? She's dead because of you! If you hadn't come here—"

"She was already marked," I interrupted gently. "They knew about you. That's why she was trying to get you out tonight."

The fight seemed to drain from him. "Why? Why would they want to kill me?"

"Because you were living proof of her disobedience," I explained. "In their world, mercy is weakness. Compassion is treason."

Broderick stared at the space where his mother had vanished. "They turned her to dust. Like she never existed."

I nodded grimly. "That's how the Guild operates. They don't just kill—they erase."

He looked up at me, something hardening behind his tears. "I'm going to kill him. That old man. Somehow, someday, I'm going to make him suffer."

I recognized the look in his eyes—I'd seen it in my own reflection countless times. The birth of vengeance.

"If you go after him now, you'll die," I said bluntly. "Exactly as your mother feared."

"What am I supposed to do?" he demanded, his voice cracking. "Just let them get away with this?"

"No," I replied, meeting his gaze steadily. "You get stronger. Much stronger. You learn everything you can about your enemy. And when the time is right, you strike."

Broderick absorbed my words, his breathing gradually steadying. "Will you help me?"

I considered my answer carefully. Taking on a student in the midst of my own desperate mission wasn't wise. But something in his determined gaze reminded me of myself not so long ago.

"I can't stay," I finally said. "I have to save Isabelle. But I can point you toward people who can help—if you're serious about this path."

"I've never been more serious about anything in my life," he swore.

I nodded. "Then find Mariana Valerius at the Celestial Apothecary Guild. Tell her I sent you. She'll understand."

He committed the name to memory, then asked, "And you? What will you do now?"

"Continue my war with the Guild," I said simply. "Tonight was just another reminder of why they need to be destroyed."

As I turned to leave, Broderick called after me. "Knight! When you face them—the ones who did this—make them pay."

I paused at the doorway, not looking back. "Count on it."

Stepping into the night, I left Broderick alone with his grief and newfound purpose. News of Ms. Hayward's "disappearance" would spread through official channels by morning, the truth carefully obscured behind lies. Another victim of the Guild's ruthless control, another reason to bring their entire system crashing down.

And as I walked away, the old man's words echoed in my mind. The binding would remain until they extracted what they needed from Isabelle's bloodline. Which meant I was running out of time to save her.

I needed to accelerate my plans. The Immortal Bane Sect couldn't just be a sanctuary anymore—it needed to become a staging ground for war.