Rise of The Abandoned Husband

Chapter 572 - 572 - Fury at the Guild's Gates

## Liam's Perspective

The massive gates of the Veridia City Martial Guild loomed before me. My rage pulsed through my veins like liquid fire. I had one goal—find Isabelle and tear apart anyone who tried to stop me.

I extended my divine sense, searching desperately for any trace of Isabelle's presence. The compound was enormous, and instead of finding her, I was immediately bombarded by countless powerful auras. Martial Masters, Martial Grandmasters, and at least a dozen Martial Marquis signatures hit my senses at once.

But I didn't care. They could bring an army.

"Sound the alarm! Intruder at the main gate!" a voice shouted from somewhere behind me.

A loud, piercing siren wailed across the compound. Within seconds, cultivators in the distinctive black and gold uniform of the Guild began pouring into the courtyard. They formed a semi-circle around me, weapons drawn.

"On your knees! Hands where we can see them!" shouted a bald man at the front, clearly their leader.

I ignored him, continuing my stride toward the main building. "Where is Isabelle Ashworth?"

Several of the guards exchanged confused glances. MyVirtualLibraryEmpire(*)thanksyouforreadingatthesource.

"This is your final warning!" the bald man barked. "Surrender now or face the consequences!"

I stopped and turned to face him. "The only one who needs to worry about consequences is whoever took her."

The bald man nodded to his subordinates. Three of them charged forward with impressive speed—all Martial Masters by their aura. The first swung a gleaming sword at my neck.

I didn't even bother drawing my weapon. I caught his blade between my thumb and forefinger. His eyes widened in shock just before my palm strike sent him crashing into his companions. All three collapsed in a heap twenty feet away.

"Is that the best you've got?" I asked coldly.

The courtyard fell silent. I could feel their fear, thick in the air. Good. They should be afraid.

"What is the meaning of this?" a commanding voice called out.

The crowd parted, revealing a tall, broad-shouldered man in an ornate uniform. His silver hair was pulled back in a tight knot, and his eyes were sharp as daggers. I recognized him immediately from Mariana's descriptions—Emerson Holmes, President of the Veridia City Martial Guild.

"Ah, a visitor," he said, his voice dripping with false cordiality. "And what brings you to our humble establishment with such... enthusiasm?"

"Where is she?" I demanded, walking toward him. "Where is Isabelle Ashworth?"

Holmes' expression didn't change, but I noticed a slight tightening around his eyes. "I'm afraid I don't know who you're talking about."

"Don't lie to me," I snarled. "I know she's here. I've seen the videos of what you're doing to her."

A flicker of genuine surprise crossed Holmes' face, quickly replaced by practiced neutrality. "Young man, I assure you, we have no one by that name in our custody."

My patience snapped. In an instant, I crossed the distance between us, my hand shooting out to grab his throat. But before I could reach him, an invisible force slammed into me, sending me skidding back several feet.

"Impressive speed," Holmes remarked, seemingly unfazed by my attack. "But I wouldn't recommend trying that again."

The crowd of cultivators had backed away, forming a larger circle around us. Many looked terrified. Some had even fled.

"You're harvesting her blood," I said through gritted teeth. "Using her like she's nothing but a resource."

Holmes tilted his head slightly. "Ah, I see. You must be Liam Knight. The troublemaker we've heard so much about."

So they knew who I was. That confirmed it—they were behind Isabelle's abduction.

"I won't ask again," I said, my voice deadly quiet. "Where. Is. She?"

Holmes sighed dramatically. "Even if what you're suggesting were true—which I neither confirm nor deny—do you really think you can just walk in here and demand answers?" He gestured around at the compound. "This is the heart of the Veridia City Martial Guild. We have over five hundred elite cultivators stationed here."

"I don't care if you have five thousand," I replied. "Either you give me Isabelle, or I tear this place apart stone by stone until I find her."

Holmes studied me for a long moment, then chuckled. "Such bravado. But ultimately futile." He raised his voice. "Marquis Zhou, Marquis Blackwell, Marquis Lee, Marquis Adams, Marquis Tang, Marquis Wilson!"

Six figures blurred into existence around me, each emanating the unmistakable aura of a Martial Marquis. Their combined pressure was suffocating, like standing at the bottom of the ocean.

"Detain him," Holmes ordered casually. "Alive, preferably, but I'll understand if accidents happen."

One of the Marquis, a powerfully built woman with a face like chiseled granite, stepped forward. "This won't take long."

She moved with blinding speed, her fist trailing blue energy as it rocketed toward my chest. To the observers, I'm sure it looked like an assured kill.

I caught her fist in my palm.

The shockwave of our collision cracked the stone courtyard beneath our feet. Her eyes widened in disbelief.

"Impossible," she whispered. "You're just a—"

I didn't let her finish. My counterattack was ruthless and precise. My free hand drove into her solar plexus with enough force to compress her internal organs. As she doubled over, I brought my knee up to her face. The sickening crunch of her nose breaking echoed across the courtyard.

But I wasn't done. Before she could recover, I gripped her shoulders and drove her head-first into the stone ground. The pavement cracked and cratered from the impact.

The entire exchange had taken less than three seconds.

The other five Marquis stared in stunned silence at their comrade, who lay unconscious in a pool of blood. Even Holmes looked taken aback.

"Anyone else?" I asked, my voice ice-cold.

Holmes' composure cracked for the first time. "What... what are you?"

I ignored his question. "I'll say it one more time. Give me Isabelle Ashworth."

The five remaining Marquis exchanged wary glances, none eager to attack after witnessing their colleague's fate.

Holmes seemed to realize his position was weakening. He needed to regain control of the situation—and quickly.

"Listen carefully," Holmes announced, his voice carrying to all the spectators. "This man is Liam Knight, a person of significant interest to our superiors. The higher-ups have had their eye on him for some time."

That gave me pause. Higher-ups? Who was above the Guild President?

"If you can take down Liam Knight today," Holmes continued, addressing the remaining five Marquis, "the higher-ups will surely reward you. Handsomely."

Their expressions shifted from uncertainty to calculation. Greed replaced fear in their eyes. Holmes had given them a reason to fight beyond mere duty—now it was about personal gain.

I settled into a fighting stance. If I had to go through all of them to find Isabelle, so be it.

The five Martial Marquis spread out, surrounding me in a perfect pentagon. Their coordinated movement made it clear—this wasn't going to be a series of one-on-one battles.

This time, they would attack as one.