Rise of The Abandoned Husband

Chapter 447 - 447 - Retribution's Echo and a Rival's Ascent

Liam's Perspective

"Half-step Martial Marquis? Martial Marquis?" I laughed, tightening my grip on Kendrick's shoulder until he winced. "You think titles impress me anymore?"

Kendrick's face paled as my fingers dug deeper. "Wait! I can help you! I know things about the Ashworth family—secrets Corbin wouldn't want exposed!"

I spun him around to face me. His eyes widened at whatever he saw in mine.

"Liam, please! I was just following orders!" Sweat beaded on his forehead. "I'll betray them! I'll tell you everything!"

The crowd around us had backed away, forming a wide circle. Some were recording with their communication crystals. Good. Let them spread the word.

"You once mocked me in front of the entire Celestial Apothecary Guild," I said calmly. "Called me trash. Worthless."

"That was before! I didn't know—"

"Know what? That I'd survive? That I'd become strong enough to crush you?" I released his shoulder and stepped back. "Show me how powerful an elder of the Ascendant Saints Order really is."

Kendrick wiped his brow, visibly relieved at my apparent mercy. Then his expression hardened. He must have decided I was toying with him. A fatal misread.

"You asked for this," he growled, dropping into a fighting stance.

His body glowed with a purple light as he activated some kind of technique. Energy crackled around his hands, forming serrated blades of pure qi.

"Violet Star Blade," he announced. "This technique earned me my elder position."

I stood still, hands at my sides. "Is that all?"

Anger flashed across his face. He lunged forward, slashing with his energy blades in a complex pattern. Fast. Precise. Deadly to most opponents.

I didn't even bother dodging. The blades struck my chest, then shattered like glass.

Kendrick stumbled back, his face a mask of disbelief. "Impossible! Those blades can cut through steel!"

I took a single step forward. "My turn."

Before he could react, I unleashed a fraction of the draconic energy inside me. Golden light erupted from my palm, slamming into his chest. The impact sent him flying backward. He crashed through a wooden stall before skidding to a stop against a stone wall.

Remarkably, he was still conscious. Still alive. I'd held back just enough.

I walked toward him slowly, ignoring the whispers from the growing crowd.

"Did you see that?"

"He defeated an elder with one move!"

"Who is he?"

Kendrick coughed blood as he tried to stand. His legs gave out immediately.

"What... what are you?" he gasped as I towered over him.

"Something new," I answered truthfully. "Something you and your masters should fear."

He tried to scramble away, but I caught his ankle. "Not so fast. We're not done."

"I told you I'll help! I'll betray Corbin! I know his plans!"

I knelt beside him. "Oh, I'm sure you do. And you'd say anything to save your skin right now."

"It's true! He's planning to use Dashiell Blackthorne! He wants to merge the families through Isabelle, then eliminate Dashiell once—"

I cut him off with a raised hand. "Tell me something I don't already know."

His eyes darted wildly. "The Umbral Covenant! They've taken an interest in events here! That's why our Order came—we're their advance scouts!"

That piece of information was actually useful. The Umbral Covenant was an international organization of assassins and mercenaries. If they were involved, this conflict was escalating beyond Veridia City.

"Thank you for that," I said. "Now, I have a message for Corbin."

"Anything! I'll tell him anything!"

"Don't tell him. Show him."

I placed my hand on his chest, directly over his Dantian—the core of a cultivator's power. With surgical precision, I sent a burst of draconic energy into it.

Kendrick screamed. Not from pain, but from the realization of what I'd done. His Dantian—the spiritual center he'd spent decades nurturing—was now crippled. Not destroyed, but damaged beyond his ability to repair.

"You... you've ruined me," he whispered, tears streaming down his face.

"I've shown mercy," I corrected. "You're alive. You can still walk, talk, eat, and breathe. But you'll never cultivate again."

I stood up, addressing the four corpses and broken man before me. "Let this be a message to Corbin Ashworth, to the Blackthornes, to everyone who thought they could hunt me. The prey has become the predator."

I turned to leave, then paused. "Oh, and Kendrick? Tell Corbin that Isabelle will be coming home soon."

As I walked away, Michael Ashworth fell into step beside me.

"That was quite a display," he said quietly. "Very public."

"It was meant to be."

"You realize you've just declared open war?"

I nodded. "The war began when they took Isabelle. I'm just finally fighting back."

---

Later that evening, Michael and I sat in his private study. The mansion was quiet, save for the occasional servant passing by.

"You said you wanted to establish your own sect in Veridia City," Michael said, swirling brandy in a crystal glass. "To challenge both the Ashworth and Blackthorne families."

"Yes."

"Why tell me this? I am an Ashworth, after all."

I studied him carefully. "Because you're different. You've always been fair to me. And I believe you care more about Isabelle's happiness than family politics."

Michael sipped his drink. "Perhaps. But challenging the established order is no small thing. The Ashworths have controlled Veridia City for generations."

"Nothing lasts forever."

"True." He set down his glass. "What do you need from me?"

"Information, for now. I need to know about Evelyn Norton's condition. The doctors won't tell me anything."

Michael frowned. "They're under strict orders from the Blackthornes. Her injuries are severe, but not life-threatening. However, her cultivation has been compromised."

My heart sank. "Permanently?"

"Unknown. The damage is unlike anything they've seen before."

I clenched my fist, thinking of Dudley Lowell's attack. "I need to find a way to help her."

"The best medical minds in the city are working on it," Michael assured me. "But if anyone can find a solution, it might be Dudley Lowell himself."

"Dudley?" I scoffed. "He's the one who did this to her."

"And therefore might know how to undo it." Michael leaned forward. "Rumor has it he's disappeared, though. Left the city after your confrontation."

This was concerning news. Dudley going into hiding meant he was planning something.

"I'll find him," I promised. "One way or another."

---

Across the city, in a dingy apartment, Dudley Lowell stared at the wall, his eyes unfocused. The humiliation of his defeat burned like acid in his veins.

"Pathetic," a voice whispered in his mind. "You had the Dragon Spirit within your grasp, and you let that upstart take it."

"Shut up," Dudley muttered, clutching his head. "I don't need your mockery."

The voice had appeared after his encounter with the ancient jade statue months ago. At first, it had been helpful, guiding him to greater power. Now it seemed to enjoy tormenting him.

"You need me more than ever," the voice insisted. "Liam Knight has absorbed the Dragon Spirit. His power will grow exponentially." Content presented by *.

Dudley slammed his fist into the wall, cracking the plaster. "What am I supposed to do? He's too strong now!"

"Not yet. He hasn't mastered that power. There's still time."

"Time for what?"

"To become stronger," the voice purred. "I know a place. The Hydrating Tower in Dolan. There, you can break through to the half-step Martial Marquis realm."

Dudley's eyes widened. "That's impossible. It would take years."

"Not with my help. Not with what I know."

Dudley hesitated. The voice had never led him astray, despite its cruel nature.

"If I do this... if I become that strong..."

"You'll crush Liam Knight," the voice promised. "Take back what's rightfully yours. The Dragon Spirit was meant for you, not him."

Dudley stood, a new determination hardening his features.

"Tell me what to do."

---

The next morning, I was browsing The Warrior's Scroll—a popular information network for cultivators—when a headline caught my eye:

DASHIELL BLACKTHORNE DEFEATS FIFTH RANKED MASTER IN PYRO TOURNAMENT

Rising Star Set to Challenge Veteran Bryce Osborne Next Week

I frowned, scanning the article. Dashiell had apparently become something of a celebrity in Pyro City's fighting circuit. The piece was filled with lavish praise:

"...displaying technique and power beyond his years..."

"...hailed as the most promising young talent in a generation..."

"...could become the youngest champion in tournament history..."

The final paragraph made my blood boil:

"When asked about rumors of a rival from Veridia City named Liam Knight, Blackthorne dismissed the notion with a laugh. 'I've heard he's still alive, which is surprising enough. But a rival? Hardly. Let him come to Pyro if he thinks he's worthy of the title.'"

I closed the crystal display with a snap. So Dashiell was using his tournament success to build his reputation, all while diminishing mine.

Clever, but it wouldn't work. Fame and public opinion meant nothing in a real fight.

My communication crystal buzzed. An encrypted message from an unknown sender. I opened it cautiously.

"Warning: Umbral Covenant has issued death order against Liam Knight. Ten half-step Martial Marquis dispatched to execute. Signed, A Friend."

I stared at the message, feeling the weight of its implications. Ten half-step Martial Marquis. Each one nearly as powerful as Jackson Harding had been when I first met him.

The game had changed. I wasn't just fighting local powers anymore. I was being targeted by one of the most feared organizations in the world.

I smiled grimly. Let them come. The Dragon Spirit pulsed within me, eager for the challenge.

The hunt was on—but they'd soon discover they weren't the hunters. Not anymore.