Rise of The Abandoned Husband

I watched Rex Osborne's face transform from diplomatic smoothness to raw fear. My words hung in the air between us, heavy with promise.

"Kill?" He forced a laugh that didn't reach his eyes. "Master Knight, surely we can discuss this like civilized cultivators."

"Civilized?" I took a step forward, and every Covenant member in the hall tensed. "Was it civilized when you targeted my wife? When you planned to drain her blood for your experiments?"

Rex's eyes darted to Clarissa, who shrank back against the wall. "I see our administrative assistant has been spreading malicious rumors. Whatever she told you—"

"Stop." My voice cut through the hall like a blade. "I saw the documents myself. I know exactly what the Covenant planned for Isabelle."

Kenneth moved to flank me, his presence adding weight to our position. The Covenant members looked increasingly nervous, several reaching for their weapons.

Rex's expression hardened as he realized his lies weren't working. "Very well. If you insist on hostilities..." He snapped his fingers, and eight robed figures emerged from alcoves around the chamber. "Preston, deal with our uninvited guests."

A muscular man with a scarred face stepped forward, cracking his knuckles. "With pleasure, Master Osborne."

I recognized him immediately—Preston Elliott, one of the Covenant's infamous enforcers. Behind him stood eight martial artists, all emanating the power of Mid-to-High Marquis Realm cultivators.

"Nine against two," Kenneth murmured beside me. "They still don't understand who they're dealing with."

I couldn't agree more. While these odds might have intimidated me months ago, now they only annoyed me. Every moment wasted here was a moment I could be spending with Isabelle, helping her recover from her ordeal.

"I'll give you one chance," I announced, my patience wearing thin. "Surrender your golden cores and leave with your lives."

Laughter rippled through the Covenant ranks. Preston stepped forward, his massive frame blocking my view of Rex. "Bold words from a dead man walking. Julian told us how weak you've become after your wife's rescue. You barely survived that encounter."

I didn't bother correcting his misconception. Let them underestimate me—it would only make this faster.

"Enough talk," I said. "I have better things to do today than listen to the desperate bravado of dead men."

Preston's face contorted with rage. "Kill him!" he roared, and all nine attackers launched themselves at me simultaneously.

The air around us thickened with killing intent as they unleashed their most powerful techniques. Blades of energy, balls of flame, and poisonous mists converged on my position from all directions.

I stood motionless, gathering my energy. The attacks were seconds from impact when I finally moved.

"God Buddha's Thousand Hands."

Golden light erupted from my body, forming translucent arms that extended in all directions. Each ghostly hand intercepted an incoming attack, crushing it to nothing. Then, faster than the eye could follow, those same hands shot toward my attackers.

Eight of the hands seized the Covenant Marquises by their throats, lifting them off the ground. The ninth and largest hand wrapped around Preston's entire body, constricting like a python.

The hall fell silent except for the desperate choking sounds of nine powerful cultivators being strangled by my technique.

"Impossible," Rex whispered from his position at the back of the hall. "No one can manifest more than four phantom limbs with that technique..."

I ignored him, focusing on maintaining the pressure. One by one, the eight Marquises lost consciousness, their struggles growing weaker. Preston lasted longer, his face purple with effort as he tried to break free.

"You should have stayed away from my wife," I told him calmly as the last of his resistance faded.

With a casual flick of my will, I slammed all nine bodies to the ground. The marble floor cracked under the impact. None of them moved afterward.

Kenneth approached the fallen cultivators, checking their conditions. "All alive, but barely. Their meridians are shattered."

"Perfect." I walked toward the first fallen Marquis, a woman whose face was frozen in an expression of shock. Kneeling beside her, I placed my hand over her dantian.

Rex seemed to realize what I was about to do. "Wait! Those are my elite guards! You can't—"

I ignored him, plunging my hand through the unconscious woman's abdomen in a technique I'd learned from ancient texts. There was no blood—just a clean extraction of the glowing golden core from her dantian. The orb pulsed with power in my palm.

"One," I counted, moving to the next fallen Marquis.

Clarissa gasped from her position against the wall, clearly horrified by what she was witnessing. "You're harvesting their golden cores?"

I didn't answer, too focused on my task. One by one, I extracted the golden cores from the eight Marquises, each one representing decades of cultivation and power that would now serve my purpose.

When I reached Preston, I paused. His core would be particularly powerful, given his reputation. I drove my hand into his dantian with slightly more force than necessary, watching his unconscious body jerk as I removed the pulsating golden sphere.

"Nine," I announced, rising to my feet with the cores safely stored in my spatial ring.

Rex Osborne had been backing away during this process, his eyes darting around for escape routes. Now, with all his guards neutralized and their power harvested, the reality of his situation seemed to finally sink in.

"Master Knight," he said, voice trembling, "perhaps we got off on the wrong foot. The Covenant has vast resources—treasures you can't imagine. I can give you access to all of it."

I walked slowly toward him, each step deliberate. "Where's your master? The one in the black robe who slipped away when we arrived?"

Rex's eyes widened fractionally—just enough to confirm my suspicion. "I... I don't know who you mean. I am the leader of the Umbral Covenant."

"Another lie." I was close enough now to see the sweat beading on his forehead. "Julian Hawthorne doesn't operate alone. Neither do you. Someone else pulls the strings."

For a moment, something like relief flashed across Rex's face. He thought his master would save him. "Even if that were true, what does it matter? You've won today. Take the cores, take our treasures, but let me go. I swear on my cultivation path that I'll never trouble you again."

I reached the spot where he stood frozen with fear. "Your master has abandoned you, Rex. He saw me coming and fled without a second thought. That's the kind of loyalty your Covenant inspires."

Rex's face drained of color as he processed my words. His eyes darted to the side exit, as if hoping to see his mysterious superior returning with reinforcements.

"I... I can serve you instead!" Desperation made his voice crack. "I have connections throughout the cultivation world. Information networks. Secret techniques. I can be valuable to you!"

Kenneth made a disgusted sound. "The mighty Rex Osborne, begging like a dog."

I studied Rex's face—the fear, the desperation, the pathetic hope that he might survive this encounter. Here was a man who had orchestrated countless atrocities, who had approved the plan to drain Isabelle of her blood, who had smiled and welcomed me to the Covenant while plotting my death.

"No," I said simply.

Rex fell to his knees. "Please! I'll do anything! Be anything you need! A servant, an informant—I'll even cripple my own cultivation if that's what you want!"

I pointed to his dantian. "It's your golden core inside that I want."

His eyes widened in fresh horror. "No—"

My hand plunged into his abdomen before he could finish the word. Unlike with the others, I didn't bother with a clean extraction. I ripped the core from his body, watching as his life force drained away with it.

Rex's mouth opened and closed silently, like a fish out of water. Then he collapsed, eyes still open but seeing nothing.

I held his golden core up to the light, examining its swirling energies. For all his moral bankruptcy, Rex had been a powerful cultivator. His core would serve me well.

Clarissa let out a small whimper, drawing my attention. She had slid down the wall to sit on the floor, her face pale as she stared at the carnage.

"Is... is it over?" she asked weakly.

Kenneth approached her, his expression grim. "For now. But this is just the beginning of Master Knight's retribution."

I turned away from Rex's body, surveying the hall. "Kenneth, secure the Covenant's records and treasures. This Mystic Realm belongs to us now."

As Kenneth moved to carry out my orders, I walked to the center of the hall and sat cross-legged on the floor. One by one, I removed the golden cores from my spatial ring, arranging them in a circle around me.

Ten cores in total—nine from today and Barrett Hill's from our previous encounter. Together, they represented an enormous amount of power that I would now absorb through an ancient technique I'd discovered in my inherited memories.

The path to saving Isabelle and defeating the Veridia City Martial Guild would require more strength than I currently possessed. These cores would help close that gap.

As I began the absorption process, golden light enveloping my body, I thought of Isabelle waiting for me back at our temporary shelter. Her recovery was my priority, but to truly keep her safe, I needed to become something that even the Martial Saints would fear.

The Umbral Covenant was just the first domino to fall. Soon, the entire corrupt system that had targeted us would crumble.

Starting with Julian Hawthorne.