Rise of The Abandoned Husband

Chapter 294 - 294 - Clash at Long Canyon: A Desperate Stand

The city guards were dragging Preston Ironwood away when he suddenly erupted with terrifying force. His aura exploded outward, throwing the guards back like ragdolls.

"You think this is over?" Preston snarled, his face contorted with rage. His eyes locked onto mine with murderous intent. "You've destroyed everything I've worked for!"

I stood my ground as the crowd scattered in panic. This was the moment I had feared—Preston had nothing left to lose.

"Your own actions destroyed your future," I replied calmly, though my heart hammered in my chest. "You killed your fellow disciple for power, and now everyone knows it."

Preston's laugh was hollow and bitter. "My reputation is ruined. My plans are shattered. All because of your meddling!" His hands began to glow with a sickly purple light. "If I'm going down, I'm taking you with me!"

Adrian stepped forward protectively. "Preston, stand down. You're only making things worse for yourself."

"Worse?" Preston's voice rose to a hysterical pitch. "How could it possibly be worse? I'm already branded a murderer!"

The crowd had formed a wide circle around us now, watching the confrontation with terrified fascination. I could see city officials pushing through, but they'd never reach us in time.

Preston lunged at me with blinding speed. I barely managed to activate my Saintly Body Skill before his fist connected with my chest. The impact sent me skidding backward, but I remained standing.

A murmur of surprise rippled through the onlookers. They hadn't expected me to withstand a direct hit from someone of Preston's caliber.

Preston looked momentarily shocked that I hadn't been knocked down. "Impressive. But it won't save you."

I glanced around at the frightened faces of the crowd. Children were clinging to their parents. Elderly people were being hustled away. This fight could quickly turn deadly for innocent bystanders.

"If you want to fight, let's take this somewhere else," I suggested, my voice carrying across the plaza. "Unless you prefer endangering civilians?"

It was a calculated move. By suggesting we relocate, I was painting Preston as the villain who didn't care about collateral damage. His reputation was already destroyed—I was just driving the final nail into the coffin.

Preston's eyes narrowed. He understood my play, but had no choice. "Fine. Long Canyon, one hour. I'll show everyone what happens to those who cross me."

"I'll be there," I promised.

As Preston stormed off, Adrian grabbed my arm. "This is madness, Liam. Preston is a top-tier cultivator with decades of experience. You've only just begun your journey."

I shook my head. "I can't back down now. If I do, I'll be running for the rest of my life."

Adrian's expression was grim. "Then at least let me help you prepare."

---

An hour later, I stood at the edge of Long Canyon, a desolate stretch of rocky terrain far from the city. The perfect place for a fight to the death.

Preston was already waiting, his expression cold and calculating. The rage I'd seen earlier had been replaced by something more dangerous—focused hatred.

"I underestimated you before," he called out as I approached. "It won't happen again."

Behind me, Adrian and a small group of witnesses maintained a safe distance. Word had spread quickly, and several prominent figures from Havenwood had come to observe what many expected would be my swift defeat or death.

"Before we start," I said, "I want everyone to be clear about what's happening here. Preston Ironwood killed his fellow disciple and framed others for it. When exposed, he chose violence over accountability."

Preston's face darkened. "Enough talking. You've ruined everything I've built. My status, my reputation—all of it destroyed because of your interference!"

"You did that to yourself when you decided to murder someone from your own sect," I replied.

With a roar of rage, Preston attacked. His movement was so fast I could barely track it. One moment he was twenty paces away, the next his fist was inches from my face.

I activated my Saintly Body Skill, golden light erupting around me as I barely dodged the strike. Preston's fist grazed my cheek, creating a small cut that immediately began to bleed.

"First blood," Preston sneered. "There will be much more before I'm finished."

I circled cautiously, assessing my options. Preston was faster, more skilled, and had vastly more experience. My only advantage was raw physical strength from the Saintly Body Skill—and even that wasn't enough to bridge the gap in our abilities.

Preston launched another attack, his movements flowing like water. Each strike seemed to come from an impossible angle, forcing me on the defensive. I blocked what I could and endured what I couldn't, feeling the brutal impact of his blows even through my enhanced defenses.

"Is this the best you can do?" Preston taunted as he landed a vicious kick to my ribs. "Adrian's new prodigy can only run and hide?"

I spat blood onto the ground. "I'm still standing."

"Not for long." Preston's hands formed a complex pattern. "Formless Devil Hand!" Findthesourceofthischapterat*.

A terrible pressure surrounded me, invisible hands seemingly constricting my throat. I clawed at my neck instinctively, but there was nothing physical to grab.

Preston smiled cruelly. "This technique attacks the spirit directly. Your physical strength means nothing against it."

My vision began to blur as I struggled to breathe. With desperate focus, I redirected my energy to my spiritual center, creating a barrier against the invisible assault.

The pressure eased slightly—enough for me to gasp for air.

"Impressive," Preston acknowledged. "But futile."

He charged forward, his right hand glowing with concentrated energy. "Supreme Clarity Divine Slash!"

I tried to dodge, but the aftereffects of his previous attack had slowed my reactions. The energy blade sliced across my chest, cutting through my clothes and into flesh. Blood sprayed from the wound as I staggered backward.

"Liam!" Adrian shouted from the sidelines, his voice filled with concern.

I held up a hand to stop him from interfering. This was my fight.

Preston laughed at my stubbornness. "You're outmatched in every way. I've spent decades perfecting my skills while you just stumbled into power."

I pressed my hand against the bleeding wound, struggling to remain upright. "Maybe. But I'm still here."

"Not for long," Preston promised darkly. He began gathering energy for another attack, one that would likely finish me off.

Adrian stepped forward. "Liam, this is enough! You've proven your point!"

"Stay back!" I ordered, not taking my eyes off Preston. "I can still fight."

Preston shook his head in disbelief. "Your stubbornness is impressive, but it won't save you." He raised his glowing hands. "This next attack will end you."

I took a deep breath, ignoring the stabbing pain in my chest. My options were limited. Preston had superior technique, speed, and experience. But I still had one thing—raw physical power from the Saintly Body Skill.

"Any last words?" Preston asked, the energy around his hands intensifying.

I wiped blood from my mouth and straightened up despite the pain. "Just one question. Are you ready for what comes next?"

Preston frowned, momentarily confused by my confidence.

I closed my eyes briefly, focusing my remaining energy. The Saintly Body Skill flared brighter around me, golden light pulsing with my heartbeat.

Preston's eyes widened as he sensed the change. "What are you—"

I didn't give him time to finish. With everything I had left, I charged directly at him—a desperate, seemingly suicidal attack.

"Fool!" Preston sneered, preparing to counter what he saw as a reckless final gambit.

But in that moment, as I hurled myself toward what might be my death, I knew this was my only chance. Preston had the advantage in technique and experience, but I had nothing left to lose—and sometimes, that was the most dangerous position to be in.

The distance between us closed in an instant. Preston's face showed contempt as he prepared to deliver the final blow against what he perceived as a desperate, doomed charge.

Little did he know, I had one last card to play.