Rise of The Abandoned Husband

I followed the strange scent for hours, navigating through the barren landscape of this desolate part of the Mystic Realm. The map I'd acquired from an old trader before Tyler's sabotage guided me through twisted rock formations and dead vegetation. According to the crude markings, I was getting close to something significant.

The air grew heavier with each step, that cloying sweetness mixed with decay intensifying until it coated the back of my throat. This wasn't natural. Something ancient was buried here—something powerful.

"This has to be it," I muttered, studying the map again.

I knelt on the hard ground, running my fingers over the cracked earth. Small particles of unusual energy clung to my skin, confirming my suspicions. I began methodically tapping the ground with the hilt of my dagger, listening for any hollow sound that might indicate a chamber or artifact below.

For nearly an hour, I worked in concentric circles, expanding my search area. The sun beat down mercilessly, and sweat dripped into my eyes. But I couldn't stop—not when I was this close.

"Come on," I growled in frustration, striking the ground harder. "Where are you?"

---

Miles away, Tyler Westwood paced anxiously in his private tent at the Exchange Meeting grounds, his face contorted with rage.

"He disappeared," Tyler snarled at his two Martial Saint attendants. "Knight vanished right after leaving the Exchange Hall. Find him!"

One of the Martial Saints, a gaunt man with a scar across his left eye, bowed respectfully. "Young Master Westwood, is pursuing one man worth antagonizing Pierce Cromwell? The Cromwell family is not to be trifled with."

Tyler whirled on him, eyes blazing. "You don't understand! Knight is more dangerous than you realize. I've seen reports of his growth. In just months, he's gone from nothing to challenging Martial Lords. If he continues at this pace..."

He left the thought unfinished, but his meaning was clear. Liam Knight represented a future threat to the Westwood family—one Tyler couldn't allow to mature.

The second Martial Saint, a stocky woman with braided silver hair, stepped forward. "We can find him easily enough. His spiritual signature is... distinctive."

Tyler nodded eagerly. "Do it now. Find him and kill him. I don't care what excuses you have to make afterward."

Both Martial Saints exchanged glances, then nodded. They understood the risk they were taking, but the Westwood family had owned their loyalty for generations.

"As you command," they said in unison before disappearing in blurs of motion.

---

My knuckles were bloody from striking the hard ground when I finally heard it—a dull, hollow sound beneath a particular spot. I grinned in triumph and began clearing away the loose soil and small rocks.

"Finally," I whispered, digging frantically.

After removing several inches of dirt, my fingers brushed against something smooth and cold. I cleared more soil away, revealing what appeared to be a large circular disk, about three feet in diameter. Strange symbols were carved into its surface—symbols I couldn't recognize despite all the ancient texts I'd studied.

"What are you?" I murmured, tracing the symbols with my fingertips.

The disk seemed to pulse slightly under my touch, as if acknowledging my presence. I tried to lift it, but it remained firmly sealed into the ground. Whatever this was, it had been deliberately buried and secured.

I was so absorbed in my discovery that I failed to notice the approaching danger until it was too late.

"Well, well. Look what Liam Knight has found for us."

I froze at the sound of Tyler Westwood's voice. Slowly, I turned to face him. He stood about twenty feet away, flanked by his two Martial Saints—both looking at me with cold, calculating eyes.

"Tyler," I said calmly, despite my racing heart. "Come to do your own dirty work for once?"

Tyler smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "I wouldn't miss this for anything. Do you have any idea how long I've waited for this moment? To finally rid myself of the thorn in my side?"

I straightened up, casually dusting dirt from my hands while mentally calculating my chances. Against two Martial Saints? Practically zero. My only advantage was the mysterious disk beneath my feet.

"You're making a mistake," I warned. "Pierce Cromwell—"

"Pierce Cromwell can't protect you out here," Tyler cut me off. "No one even knows you're here. You'll simply be another unfortunate casualty of the dangerous Mystic Realm."

The female Martial Saint stepped forward, her eyes scanning the disk I'd uncovered. "Young Master Westwood, perhaps we should examine what he's found before proceeding. This appears to be an ancient seal."

Tyler waved dismissively. "Kill him first. We'll have plenty of time to investigate afterward."

I needed to buy time—fast. "You don't want to do that," I said quickly. "This seal contains something powerful. Break it carelessly, and you might release something none of us can control."

The two Martial Saints hesitated, but Tyler laughed. "Nice try, Knight. Always the clever talker, aren't you? But your words won't save you this time."

As the Martial Saints advanced, I made a split-second decision. With all my strength, I drove my heel down on the center of the disk. A loud crack echoed through the air as a fracture appeared in the ancient seal.

"Stop him!" Tyler shouted, but I struck the disk again.

This time, the seal shattered completely. A blinding light erupted from the broken disk, forcing everyone to shield their eyes. When the light faded, I looked down, expecting—hoping—for some powerful entity to emerge.

Instead, all that floated up was a small bead of light and a whisper of dark energy that dissipated almost immediately. The bead hovered at chest height, pulsing gently with an inner glow.

My heart sank. This was it? This tiny bead was what had been sealed away with such elaborate precautions?

Tyler recovered quickly from his surprise and laughed. "That's it? That's your great salvation?" He turned to his Martial Saints. "Kill him now. We can examine the bead afterward."

The male Martial Saint didn't hesitate. He lunged forward with blinding speed, his hand formed into a claw aimed directly at my throat.

I barely had time to raise my arms in defense when something unexpected happened. The small bead of light suddenly shot forward, directly into the path of the attacking Martial Saint.

A deafening boom echoed across the barren landscape as the bead collided with the Martial Saint. The explosion threw me backward, sending me tumbling across the hard ground. My ears rang from the blast, and dust filled the air, obscuring my vision.

When I managed to push myself to my feet, the scene before me left me speechless.

Where the male Martial Saint had stood was now just a smoking crater. The bead hovered above it, pulsing more intensely now, as if it had absorbed the Martial Saint's energy.

Tyler and his remaining Martial Saint stared in horror at the crater.

"Impossible," the female Martial Saint whispered. "He was a peak Martial Saint. Nothing should be able to—"

Before she could finish, the bead shot toward her. She reacted with incredible speed, throwing up a defensive barrier of spiritual energy. The bead collided with her shield, creating another explosive blast.

This time, I was ready. I dove behind a large rock formation, shielding myself from the worst of the explosion. The ground shook violently beneath me, and I felt the heat of the blast wash over my back.

When the dust settled again, I cautiously peered over my cover. The female Martial Saint was still alive, but her defensive barrier had shattered. She stood shakily, blood running from her nose and ears, her robes tattered and smoking.

The bead hovered between us, as if evaluating its next target.

Tyler Westwood backed away, his earlier confidence completely evaporated. "What is that thing?" he demanded, his voice cracking with fear.

I didn't answer. I was as confused as he was. This tiny bead had just killed a peak Martial Saint and severely injured another. Whatever it was, it possessed power beyond anything I'd encountered before.

The bead suddenly moved again, but this time it flew toward me. I tensed, expecting an attack, but instead, it circled me slowly, as if examining me. Then, to my astonishment, it gently settled on my palm.

A warm sensation spread up my arm, and knowledge flooded into my mind—ancient, incomplete fragments of information about something called "The Mystic Disk" and a "Soul Bead."

"The bead recognizes you as its master," the injured Martial Saint said, her voice a mixture of awe and fear. "It's chosen you."

Tyler's face contorted with rage and panic. "No! Kill him now! Take that bead!"

The Martial Saint hesitated, clearly unwilling to approach the bead that had just obliterated her counterpart.

I closed my fingers around the bead, feeling its power pulse in sync with my heartbeat. "I suggest you both leave," I said, my voice steady despite my racing thoughts. "Unless you want to join your friend."

Tyler's eyes darted between me, the bead in my hand, and the smoking crater where his loyal Martial Saint had stood moments before. For the first time since I'd known him, genuine fear showed in his eyes.

"This isn't over, Knight," he snarled, backing away further. "Whatever that thing is, you won't be able to control it forever."

"Want to stay and find out?" I challenged, taking a step toward him.

That was enough. Tyler turned and fled, the injured Martial Saint following close behind.

Once they were gone, I uncurled my fingers and stared at the small bead resting in my palm. It seemed innocuous now, just a softly glowing pearl-like object. Yet it had just effortlessly killed a peak Martial Saint.

"What exactly are you?" I whispered to it.

The bead pulsed once in response, and more fragments of knowledge filtered into my consciousness. The Mystic Disk had been a seal, designed to contain this Soul Bead—a remnant of an ancient, powerful being that had once walked the Mystic Realm. The bead contained only a fraction of that being's power and consciousness, but even that fraction was devastating.

And now, somehow, it had chosen me.

I carefully placed the bead into my spatial ring, knowing I needed to understand its powers before using it again. One thing was certain—my position had just changed dramatically. The Soul Bead represented power beyond what even Tyler Westwood could counter with his family's influence.

But as I stood there, watching the sun set over the barren landscape, a new worry gnawed at me. The Soul Bead's power had been unmistakable and very public. Word would spread quickly about what had happened here today.

And in this world, power always attracted those hungry for more.