Rise of The Abandoned Husband

Our fists collided with thunderous impact. To my amazement, I didn't fly backward. Instead, the stocky Saint's eyes widened in shock as we stood locked in position, neither giving ground.

"Impossible!" he hissed.

I stared at my own fist, golden light pulsing beneath my skin. My body felt different—lighter yet denser, as if every cell had been compressed into something stronger. The dark energy swirling around us seemed to feed my Saintly Body Skill, enhancing it beyond anything I'd experienced before.

"My turn," I growled.

I launched a punch toward his chest. He moved to block, clearly expecting a manageable blow. Instead, my fist connected with the force of a meteor. The Saint's body flew backward, crashing through several rock formations before coming to a stop nearly a hundred yards away.

Everyone—including me—stared in stunned silence.

"What the hell?" Tyler whispered, his face pale.

The lean Saint recovered first, charging at me with a roar. He was faster than his stocky companion, his strikes a blur even without spiritual reinforcement. I dodged the first few attacks, feeling strangely light on my feet. When his fist finally connected with my shoulder, I barely felt it.

I grabbed his extended arm and squeezed. He screamed as bones cracked beneath my grip.

"How does it feel?" I asked, my voice eerily calm. "To be the weaker one?"

With a casual flick, I tossed him aside. He tumbled across the ground like a ragdoll, leaving a trail of dust in his wake.

The stocky Saint had recovered and was charging back, his face contorted with rage and disbelief. I stood my ground, waiting. When he reached me, I simply stepped aside, grabbed him by the neck, and slammed him face-first into the ground. The impact created a small crater.

"This isn't possible," Tyler stammered, backing away. "You're just a Marquis!"

I turned toward him, feeling power coursing through my veins like molten gold. "Run, Tyler. Run while you can."

He didn't need to be told twice. Tyler turned and fled, the two battered Saints scrambling after him. I watched them for a moment, then gave chase. My body moved with unnatural speed, covering ground in great leaps.

"I'm not finished with you!" I shouted, the dark energy around us carrying my voice like thunder.

People appeared in the distance—we were approaching the Palace. Cultivators gathered outside stopped and stared as Tyler and the Saints fled past them, terror plain on their faces. Their expressions turned to shock when they saw me in pursuit, golden light emanating from my body, dark energy swirling around me.

"Is that Liam Knight?" someone gasped.

"Are those Martial Saints running from him?"

I caught up to the stocky Saint first, grabbing him by the back of his robe and yanking him backward. He stumbled and fell, looking up at me with fear that would have been unthinkable hours ago.

"Please," he begged. "We were just following orders."

"Orders to kill me and take what's mine," I said, my voice cold. "Where's your Martial Saint pride now?"

Without waiting for an answer, I drove my fist into his stomach. He doubled over, coughing blood. I hit him again, this time across the jaw. Teeth scattered across the ground.

The lean Saint tried to intervene, but I caught his punch effortlessly. Twisting his arm, I forced him to his knees beside his companion.

"I need your primordial spirits," I told them conversationally, as if discussing the weather. "I'm going to extract and consume them."

"You can't!" the lean Saint protested. "That's forbidden! Even if you could overpower us physically, you don't have the technique—"

I silenced him with a backhanded slap that sent him sprawling. More spectators had gathered, watching in horrified fascination as I manhandled beings they'd been taught to revere as gods.

"Knight!" a familiar voice called out. Pierce Cromwell stood at the edge of the crowd, his face a mask of fury and disbelief. "Stop this madness at once!"

I glanced at him dismissively. "This doesn't concern you, Cromwell."

"You're attacking Martial Saints on Palace grounds!" he shouted. "Guards! Seize him!"

Two Martial Saints in Palace uniform stepped forward, their faces grim. I smiled at them, not moving from where I stood over my defeated opponents.

"Are you sure you want to try that?" I asked quietly.

The Palace Saints hesitated, sensing the dark energy that filled the air. One of them stepped forward anyway, duty overriding caution.

"By order of—" he began.

I didn't let him finish. Moving faster than anyone could track, I appeared before him and drove my palm into his chest. The impact lifted him off his feet and sent him crashing through the Palace's outer wall.

The second guard attacked immediately, his fist glowing with spiritual energy that flickered weakly in the dark atmosphere. I caught his punch, twisted, and flipped him over my shoulder. He hit the ground with enough force to crack the stone beneath us.

"Anyone else?" I asked, looking around at the stunned faces.

No one moved. Even Pierce Cromwell had gone silent, his expression shifting from anger to fear.

I returned to the Westwood Saints, who had attempted to crawl away during the distraction. Grabbing them both by their robes, I dragged them back to the center of the courtyard.

"Now, about those primordial spirits," I said.

I placed my hands on their chests, focusing my energy as I'd been taught. Their bodies convulsed, but nothing happened. Despite my overwhelming physical advantage, this technique was still beyond me.

Frustration welled up inside me. "Fine. If I can't have your spirits, I'll take everything else."

I ripped their spatial rings from their fingers. Opening them, I found a treasure trove—cultivation manuals, spirit stones, weapons, and various elixirs. I transferred everything to my own spatial ring.

"That's mine!" the stocky Saint protested weakly.

"Was yours," I corrected. "Consider it payment for trying to kill me."

Tyler had stopped at the edge of the crowd, watching in horror. When our eyes met, he turned to flee again, but I was on him in an instant.

"And you," I said, grabbing him by the throat. "The architect of this little assassination attempt."

"It wasn't my idea!" he choked out. "The family elders—"

"Save it," I cut him off. "Your family sent Saints to kill me. That debt will be paid in full, but first..."

I dragged him back to where the two Saints still lay and threw him down beside them.

"Strip," I ordered all three of them.

"What?" the lean Saint asked, confusion replacing fear for a moment.

"You heard me. Remove your clothes. All of them."

Tyler's face reddened with rage and humiliation. "You can't be serious."

I kicked him hard enough to send him rolling across the stone. "I'm not asking."

The crowd watched in shocked silence as the two Martial Saints and Tyler reluctantly began removing their robes. When they hesitated at their undergarments, I stepped forward threateningly. They quickly shed the last of their clothing, standing naked before the growing crowd.

Whispers rippled through the spectators. Some looked away in embarrassment, but most stared in fascination at the ultimate humiliation of beings they'd been taught were untouchable.

"Look at your mighty Saints now," I announced to the crowd. "Not so godlike without their fancy robes, are they?"

The Saints' faces burned with shame. Centuries of reverence and fear stripped away along with their clothing.

I gathered their discarded garments into a pile. With a surge of spiritual energy, I incinerated them, leaving nothing but ashes.

"Run," I told them, my voice carrying across the now-silent courtyard. "Run naked for me."

They didn't move, frozen in their humiliation.

"RUN!" I roared, the dark energy around me pulsing with my anger.

That broke them. The two Martial Saints and Tyler Westwood turned and fled, their bare feet slapping against the stone, their naked bodies on display for all to see.

I stood in the center of the courtyard, watching them go, the dark energy swirling around me like a cloak. The crowd remained silent, many trembling at the sight of me.

In that moment, I knew something fundamental had changed. Not just in my power, but in the order of this world. Martial Saints, once revered as untouchable gods, had been beaten, robbed, and humiliated by my hand.

And I was just getting started.