Rise of The Abandoned Husband

Pain beyond imagination. That was my world now.

The sacred fire consumed me in waves, breaking my bones with methodical precision before allowing them to heal. Then breaking them again. And again. And again.

I'd lost count of how many times this cycle had repeated. Days? Weeks? Time held no meaning in this pit of agony.

My screams had long since given way to hoarse whispers, my throat raw from the endless torment. Yet I endured. For Isabelle. For revenge. For power.

"Still breathing down there?" A voice called from above, almost bored in its delivery.

Through watery eyes, I glimpsed three purple-robed figures at the rim of the pit, watching my suffering like spectators at some macabre entertainment.

I didn't waste what little breath I had on a response. Instead, I focused on the fire as it wrapped around my femur, heating it until—

CRACK!

The bone split clean in half. White-hot pain lanced through me, but something was different this time. The break was cleaner. The recovery, faster.

"How long has it been?" One of the watchers asked.

"Three weeks," another replied. "The Guild expected confirmation of his death days ago."

"Then tell them he's dead," the first voice snapped. "Who could survive this?"

The third figure, clearly their leader, leaned further over the edge. "We wait. This one has defied death before."

I almost smiled through the pain. They had no idea what was happening to me down here. I barely understood it myself.

With each breaking and healing, my bones were changing. Growing denser. Stronger. The sacred fire wasn't just testing my will—it was transforming me at the most fundamental level.

The fire surged again, this time enveloping my ribcage. I braced myself for the familiar agony, but instead of breaking, my ribs held firm against the onslaught.

I blinked in surprise. The fire increased its intensity, determined to shatter what had previously yielded so easily. Still, my bones refused to break.

Progress. Real, tangible progress after what must have been a month of torment.

Above, the purple-robed figures continued their vigil, unaware of the transformation occurring below.

"His screams have stopped," one observed.

"Finally dead, perhaps?" another suggested hopefully.

Their leader shook his head. "Continue watching."

Now came the next phase—arguably worse than the breaking of bones. The sacred fire began to strip away my flesh, burning it from my newly reinforced skeleton like paper in a furnace.

I bit down hard enough to crack a normal man's teeth, but my jaw now held strong. Blood filled my mouth as I tore into my own tongue, the metallic taste a welcome distraction from the greater agony.

Layer by layer, the fire consumed me—skin, muscle, tendons, organs—leaving nothing but a skeleton glowing white-hot in the flames.

And then, miracle of miracles, the process reversed.

Blood vessels formed first, threading themselves like red-gold filaments across my bones. Then came muscle fibers, weaving together with supernatural speed. Organs regenerated, each one better than before—lungs with greater capacity, a heart that pumped with perfect efficiency, eyes that could see through the brightest flames without blinding.

"How much longer must we wait?" The impatient watcher demanded. "It's been a month!"

"Three more days," their leader decided. "If he hasn't emerged by then, we'll report his death and return to the Guild."

Little did they know, three more days was far more time than I needed.

My skin was reforming now, closing over muscle and sinew like liquid gold solidifying into human form. But this wasn't the skin I'd worn before. This new dermis gleamed with an inner light, as if molten metal flowed just beneath the surface.

I flexed my hand experimentally, watching the play of light across my palm. Strength unlike anything I'd known before surged through me. I felt invincible. Reborn.

The sacred fire, sensing my transformation was complete, retreated slightly, creating a small pocket of breathable air around me.

I drew in my first full breath in what felt like an eternity. The air seared my new lungs, but the pain was nothing compared to what I'd endured.

"You tested me," I whispered to the flames. "You broke me. And now you've remade me."

The fire swirled around me, almost sentient in its movements.

I rose to my feet, my new body responding with perfect precision. No weakness. No hesitation. Just pure, condensed power in human form.

Above, the purple-robed watchers continued their conversation, unaware of my recovery.

"Tomorrow, we check one final time," one said. "Then we leave this cursed place."

"Agreed. No man could survive such an ordeal."

I smiled. No ordinary man, perhaps.

Looking up at the sheer walls of the pit, I calculated the distance. Thirty feet at least. An impossible jump for the man I was before.

For the man I had become? A mere step.

I gathered myself, feeling energy course through my transformed muscles. The sacred fire parted before me, recognizing its own essence now woven into my being.

"You wanted proof of death?" I called upward, my voice ringing with new resonance.

The sudden silence above was deeply satisfying.

Three purple-robed figures appeared at the rim, peering down in disbelief.

"Impossible..." one gasped.

I crouched, golden power gathering in my legs. "Nothing is impossible anymore."

With that, I launched myself upward, soaring through the air with effortless grace. The watchers scattered as I landed at the edge of the pit, my bare feet touching down without a sound.

The sacred fire had burned away my clothing, but my new skin glowed with such intensity that I appeared clothed in golden light. I stood before them, a being transformed, power radiating from me in palpable waves.

"Liam Knight," the leader said, regaining his composure first. "You've survived."

"More than survived." I rolled my shoulders, feeling the perfect alignment of bone and muscle. "I've evolved."

The other two hunters drew their weapons—ceremonial blades that gleamed with enchantments meant to cut through any defense.

I didn't move. Didn't need to.

"Are you certain you want to test these new limits?" I asked them calmly. "I'm curious myself just how far they extend."

The leader held up his hand, stopping his companions. "We were sent to confirm your death, not cause it."

"And what will you report now?"

His eyes narrowed, assessing me with new wariness. "The truth. That Liam Knight entered the sacred fire and something else emerged."

I laughed, the sound carrying an undertone like distant thunder. "Still Liam Knight. Just... improved."

One of the hunters took a step forward. "The Guild will want to understand how you survived. Such knowledge—"

"Is not for the Guild," I cut him off. "Tell your masters I'm coming for what's mine. Tell them to prepare. Tell them to be afraid."

The leader's expression hardened. "Pride comes before destruction, Knight. Even with your... enhancements."

"Not pride. Promise."

I turned away from them, gazing across the landscape toward Veridia City in the distance. My enhanced vision could make out details that would have been invisible before—the gleaming spires of the Guild headquarters, the sprawling complex where they held Isabelle.

"You know we can't let you leave," one hunter said, raising his weapon.

I sighed. "I wasn't asking permission."

The first attack came from behind—a coward's move, but expected. I didn't even turn to face it. The blade that should have pierced my back shattered on contact, fragments scattering across the ground like broken glass.

The hunter stared in shock at the hilt in his hand.

Now I turned, fixing him with a gaze that made him step back involuntarily. "My turn."

I moved with blinding speed, my hand closing around his throat before he could react. I didn't squeeze—didn't need to. The heat emanating from my skin was enough to make him scream, his flesh blistering under my touch.

I released him, allowing him to fall gasping to the ground.

"That was restraint," I told the others. "I suggest you recognize it as such."

The leader drew his own weapon—not a blade but a chain of glowing purple links that hummed with power. "The Guild doesn't fear monsters, Knight. We contain them."

The chain lashed out, wrapping around my arm with binding force. Energy crackled along its length, designed to paralyze even the strongest cultivator.

I felt it—a distant tingling, nothing more. With a casual flex, I shattered the chain into fragments.

"Is that containment?" I asked mildly.

Real fear flickered across his face now. "What are you?"

I considered the question seriously. "I'm what your Guild created when you took Isabelle. I'm the consequence of your arrogance. I'm the fire that will burn your entire corrupt system to ash."

The third hunter, the one who had remained silent until now, stepped forward. "The Guild has existed for a thousand years. It will outlast you, whatever you've become."

I shook my head. "Nothing lasts forever. Especially things that deserve to end."

Without warning, I struck—not to kill but to demonstrate. My fist connected with his chest, a restrained blow that nevertheless sent him flying twenty feet through the air. He crashed into a tree trunk with enough force to crack the wood.

The leader backed away slowly, weighing his options and finding them all lacking.

"Run," I suggested. "Tell them I'm coming. Give them time to prepare their defenses, gather their forces. It won't help, but I want them to try."

He retrieved his fallen comrade, who was struggling to breathe after my blow. The first hunter, his neck still blistered from my touch, crawled away to join them.

"This isn't over, Knight," the leader promised.

I smiled. "On that, we agree completely."

They retreated into the forest, supporting their injured. I made no move to pursue them. There was no need.

Alone at the edge of the sacred fire pit, I took stock of my transformed body. Every movement felt fluid, perfect. Power thrummed through me like electricity through a conductor. I extended my divine sense—the cultivator's sixth perception—and found it vastly expanded, reaching miles in every direction.

I could feel life forms moving through the forest. Could sense the energy flows in the earth beneath my feet. Could almost taste the lingering fear of the retreating hunters.

This was what I had hoped for when I plunged into the sacred fire, but the reality exceeded even my most optimistic expectations.

I thought of Isabelle, imprisoned in the Guild's complex. Thought of the experiments they were conducting, using her blood to create their army of super-soldiers. Rage surged through me, and with it came an unexpected reaction—my skin glowed brighter, heat pouring off me in waves that scorched the ground beneath my feet.

Controlling this new power would require practice. Mastery. But I had started with far less and learned to harness it. This would be no different.

I closed my eyes, focusing inward, finding the core of the sacred fire now burning perpetually within me. Instead of fighting it, I welcomed it—a partnership rather than a possession.

The glow subsided, becoming a warm radiance rather than a consuming blaze.

Better. Control was essential. I couldn't rescue Isabelle if I burned down the entire Guild complex with her inside it.

I looked toward Jade Moon Villa—my base, my home, where The Man with the Mustache would be waiting with the Cindercore crystal. But I wasn't ready to return yet. This new body needed testing. These new powers required understanding.

And I knew just where to begin.

There was a Guild outpost three miles east—a small garrison where they trained new recruits. Nothing vital, but a perfect testing ground for my transformed abilities.

I smiled, feeling the sacred fire respond to my intentions. The Guild had sent hunters to confirm my death. Instead, they would receive news of their outpost's destruction—a calling card announcing my return.

And a promise of what awaited the main Guild headquarters.

"Hold on, Isabelle," I whispered. "I'm coming for you. And this time, nothing will stand in my way."

With that, I set off toward the east, my stride eating up the distance with inhuman speed. Each step left a faint impression in the earth—not a scorch mark, but a crystallization, as if the ground itself was being transformed by my passing.

The sacred fire had tested me, broken me, and forged me anew. Now it was time to show the world exactly what I had become in its embrace.