Rise of The Abandoned Husband

I arrived at Ricardo Beaumont's mansion just after eight. The place screamed old money—marble floors, crystal chandeliers, and paintings worth more than most people would earn in a lifetime. A servant took my coat and directed me to a spacious hall where Veridia City's young elites mingled.

Ricardo spotted me immediately, breaking away from his conversation to greet me.

"Liam Knight! I wasn't certain you'd come." He extended his hand, which I shook briefly. "Allow me to introduce you to everyone."

He guided me through the crowd, making introductions. I recognized some faces from The Aegis Academy, while others were clearly from prominent families I'd only heard about. Everyone seemed eager to meet me, their eyes filled with curiosity and something else—respect, perhaps even fear.

"And this is Emmett Monroe," Ricardo said, gesturing to a lean man with calculating eyes. "His family controls half the shipping routes in the eastern territories."

Emmett nodded politely. "The famous Liam Knight. I've heard impressive things."

"Is it true you defeated Ms. Hayward?" a young woman asked from behind me. "They say she died after confronting you."

I turned to face her. "That's not accurate. I never claimed responsibility for her death."

The room fell silent, everyone watching for my reaction. I kept my expression neutral, uninterested in fueling rumors or satisfying their morbid curiosity.

Ricardo cleared his throat. "Well, shall we move to the dining room? The chef has prepared something special tonight."

As we took our seats at a long, ornate table, I observed the dynamics at play. These were the children of Veridia City's most powerful families—future leaders who would one day control the city's resources and politics. Under normal circumstances, I wouldn't waste time with such gatherings, but tonight I had a purpose.

"So, Liam," Ricardo said once everyone was served, "what brings you back to Veridia City? Many assumed you'd left for good after... recent events."

I took a sip of water. "I have unfinished business."

"With the Veridia City Martial Guild?" Emmett asked bluntly.

Several people shifted uncomfortably in their seats.

"Among other things," I replied, deciding to get straight to the point. "I'm interested in the Scripture Pavilion."

The reaction was immediate—nervous glances, raised eyebrows, and a few audible gasps.

"That's... ambitious," Ricardo said carefully. "The Scripture Pavilion is the most closely guarded facility in the entire Guild complex. Few have ever set foot inside."

"And those who have only get to see a fraction of its contents," added Darnell Bradford, who sat across from me. "My father is a senior official, and even he's only been granted limited access."

I leaned forward slightly. "What exactly makes the Scripture Pavilion so special?"

Ricardo exchanged glances with Emmett before answering. "It houses the most comprehensive collection of martial arts techniques and ancient knowledge in the entire region. Cultivation methods that date back thousands of years. Techniques that have been lost everywhere else."

"I've heard it contains scriptures from the Immortal Era," a young woman added excitedly.

"That's just a rumor, Olivia," Emmett corrected. "Though I wouldn't be surprised if it were true."

I studied their expressions. "And none of you have ever considered trying to gain greater access to this knowledge?"

The table fell silent again. Finally, Ricardo spoke, his voice lowered.

"Everyone dreams of it, but challenging the Guild's rules directly..." He shook his head. "It would be suicide."

I looked around the table. "Even collectively? All of you come from influential families. Together, you represent significant power in Veridia City."

This sparked something—I could see it in their eyes. The thought had occurred to them before, but no one had been bold enough to suggest it aloud.

"What exactly are you proposing?" Emmett asked, suddenly interested.

"A reasonable request," I replied. "As the next generation of Veridia City's leaders, you deserve access to your heritage—the knowledge that rightfully belongs to this city and its people."

Ricardo nodded slowly. "The Guild does technically answer to the city's ruling families..."

"Theoretically," Darnell added. "But in practice, they operate with near-complete autonomy."

"Only because they've never been challenged properly," I countered. "Not by a unified front."

The energy in the room shifted. These young elites had lived privileged lives, but they'd never truly exercised their collective influence. The idea was intoxicating to them.

"We could demand a formal audience with Chairman Holmes," Ricardo suggested, warming to the idea.

"Tonight," I pressed. "Why wait? Show up at his office as a group. Make it clear this isn't a request that can be dismissed."

Emmett stroked his chin thoughtfully. "It would certainly make a statement."

"I'm in," Olivia declared. "My father has complained for years about the Guild's secrecy."

One by one, they agreed, excitement building as they contemplated wielding their family influence toward a common goal. Within twenty minutes, dinner was forgotten, and plans were being made to confront Emerson Holmes immediately.

I sat back, observing the transformation. These spoiled heirs and heiresses suddenly had purpose—one that served my needs perfectly.

---

An hour later, our unusual procession arrived at the Guild headquarters. Security personnel looked stunned as Ricardo led the group, with me intentionally lingering toward the back. I'd planted the seed, but it was crucial that this appear as their initiative, not mine.

The night guard scrambled to alert Holmes, who emerged from his office looking bewildered at the sight of fifteen young elites gathered in his reception area at this late hour.

"What is the meaning of this?" he demanded, then spotted me at the rear of the group. His eyes narrowed slightly.

Ricardo stepped forward. "Chairman Holmes, we've come to discuss the Scripture Pavilion."

Holmes's expression tightened. "That's not a matter open for discussion, especially at this hour."

"We believe it is," Emmett countered, stepping beside Ricardo. "Collectively, we represent fifteen of Veridia City's founding families. Families whose support the Guild has historically relied upon."

Holmes glanced nervously between them and me. I kept my expression neutral, but he understood perfectly what was happening.

"The Scripture Pavilion's restricted access policies have gone unchallenged for too long," Ricardo continued. "As the next generation of city leaders, we demand expanded access privileges."

"That's not within my authority to grant," Holmes protested weakly.

"Then whose authority is it?" Olivia asked pointedly. "Because my father will be very interested to learn that his generous annual contributions to the Guild aren't enough to earn his daughter basic educational rights."

I watched with satisfaction as Holmes struggled. He knew this was my doing but couldn't call me out without admitting to our earlier conversation.

"Perhaps," I suggested, speaking for the first time since arriving, "Chairman Holmes could arrange a special viewing session. A gesture of goodwill toward Veridia City's future leaders."

All eyes turned to Holmes, who looked trapped. He shot me a brief glare before composing himself.

"This is highly irregular," he began.

"So is denying us our birthright," Ricardo interrupted. "The knowledge within those walls belongs to Veridia City, not just the Guild."

Holmes sighed deeply. "I will need to consult with—"

"By tomorrow morning," Emmett insisted. "Our families will expect an answer."

I could see Holmes calculating his options. He knew this was orchestrated, yet these young elites weren't wrong—their families did wield considerable influence. Denying them outright could create political problems the Guild didn't need right now.

"Very well," Holmes finally conceded. "I will arrange for a limited tour tomorrow at nine. But I must be clear—this will be observational only. No texts will be removed or copied."

Ricardo smiled triumphantly. "That's all we ask. For now."

The group erupted in excited chatter as they began filing out of the office. I hung back, catching Holmes's eye briefly. His expression promised future retribution, but we both knew he had no choice but to play along.

Outside the Guild headquarters, Ricardo approached me with newfound respect.

"That was brilliant," he said quietly. "I've never seen Holmes so uncomfortable."

I nodded acknowledgment. "Sometimes power only needs direction to be effective."

"Join us for drinks to celebrate?" Emmett offered, gesturing toward the others who were already discussing which establishment to visit.

"Another time," I replied. "I have other matters to attend to."

As the group departed, I felt a presence behind me. Turning, I found Daphne Grenville watching me with intensity. Unlike the others, her expression wasn't celebratory but calculating.

"That was quite a performance," she said, approaching slowly. "You manipulated them masterfully."

"I simply suggested what they already wanted," I replied.

She smiled knowingly. "Don't be modest. You orchestrated this entire evening for your own purposes." She paused, studying my face. "The question is why? What do you really want from the Scripture Pavilion?"

I remained silent, unwilling to reveal my true motivation.

"It's for Isabelle Ashworth, isn't it?" she pressed. "Everything you do is for her."

The mention of Isabelle's name caught me off guard. "What do you know about Isabelle?"

"More than you might think," Daphne replied. "My family has connections to the Second Mystic Realm. We know she's there, supposedly 'healing' under the Guild's protection."

I kept my expression neutral despite the surge of anger I felt. "And?"

Daphne stepped closer, lowering her voice. "She's not safe with you, Liam Knight. The moment you take her from that realm, she'll become a target for every power-hungry faction in Veridia City."

"Is that a threat?" I asked coldly.

"A warning," she corrected. "You think you're the only one who knows what she is? What her bloodline represents? The Ashworth family has kept that secret for generations, but secrets have a way of spreading."

Before I could respond, footsteps approached from behind. We both turned to see Tyler Westwood walking toward us, his expression unreadable.

"Am I interrupting something?" he asked, glancing between Daphne and me.