Rise of The Abandoned Husband

The morning sun cast long shadows across the clearing as I stared at the two corpses now standing before me. Their vacant eyes somehow held an intelligence that sent chills down my spine. Despite their lifeless appearance, they moved with fluid precision that no living person could match.

"How long will they last?" I asked the Man with the Mustache, who was examining them with a mixture of fascination and apprehension.

"Three days at most," he replied, stroking his facial hair nervously. "The ancient power binding them to your will is temporary. After that, they'll return to being ordinary corpses."

I nodded, studying the two undead guardians. One was tall and broad-shouldered with a stern face, while the other was leaner but had a dangerous grace to his movements. Both wore the tattered remains of what must have been expensive battle robes.

"Do they have names?" I asked.

The Man with the Mustache shrugged. "They're corpses, Liam. Does it matter?"

"It matters to me." I approached the larger one. "You'll be Vernon Sherman." Then I turned to the leaner one. "And you're Haydyn Webster."

To my surprise, both corpses inclined their heads slightly, as if acknowledging their new identities. The Man with the Mustache took an instinctive step back.

"That's not supposed to happen," he whispered. "They shouldn't respond to anything but your direct commands."

I tested this by asking, "Vernon, can you understand me?"

The larger corpse nodded once, his movements unnaturally smooth. His eyes remained dull, but I sensed something lurking behind them—not quite consciousness, but not mere animation either.

"How strong are they?" I asked, turning back to the Man with the Mustache.

He nervously adjusted his hat. "That depends on you. They draw power from your divine sense. The more you invest, the stronger they become. But be careful—maintaining them at full strength will drain you quickly."

I closed my eyes, focusing my divine sense on my new guardians. I could feel the connection between us, like tethers of spiritual energy binding them to my will. The sensation was alien yet strangely familiar.

"We need to return to Jade Moon Villa before heading to Veridia City," I decided. "Phoebe needs to know what's happening."

The journey back was faster than I expected. Vernon and Haydyn moved with incredible speed, easily matching my pace despite their seemingly rigid bodies. We reached Jade Moon Villa by nightfall.

Phoebe was waiting at the entrance, her face tense with worry. When she saw my companions, her hand instinctively went to her weapon.

"It's okay," I assured her quickly. "They're with me."

Her eyes widened. "Liam, what have you done?"

I explained the situation as concisely as possible. "I need you to hold the fort while I'm gone. Three days—that's all the time I have."

Phoebe's expression hardened into determination. "The villa will be secure. Focus on rescuing Isabelle." She hesitated before adding, "Is Clara alright? She's been unusually tired lately."

I frowned. "Clara? I haven't seen her since yesterday. Is something wrong?"

"Probably nothing," Phoebe said, but her tone suggested otherwise. "Go. We'll manage here."

I nodded, making a mental note to check on Clara when I returned. For now, Isabelle remained my priority.

"We leave for Veridia City immediately," I told my companions.

The journey to Veridia City was tense and silent. The Man with the Mustache kept glancing nervously at Vernon and Haydyn, while I focused on conserving my energy for what lay ahead. By dawn, the imposing walls of the city appeared on the horizon.

"Are you certain about this?" the Man with the Mustache asked as we approached the gates. "Walking into the Martial Guild is suicide, even with these... protectors."

"I'm not giving them a choice," I replied grimly. "They took Isabelle. Now they'll face the consequences."

The guards at the city gates paled when they saw us approaching. One look at Vernon and Haydyn was enough to send them scrambling out of our path. No one tried to stop us as we made our way through the streets toward the towering complex of the Veridia City Martial Guild.

"Wait here," I instructed the Man with the Mustache when we reached the Guild's outer courtyard. "If I'm not back in three hours, return to Jade Moon Villa and tell Phoebe to initiate our contingency plan."

He nodded reluctantly. "Try not to die in there."

"Not planning on it." I turned to my undead guardians. "Follow me."

The massive doors of the Guild Hall opened as we approached. Inside, cultivators and staff scattered like startled birds at the sight of us. Word of our arrival spread quickly, and soon the vast entrance hall was empty except for one man.

Emerson Holmes stood at the center of the hall, his hands clasped behind his back. He'd clearly risen in rank since I last saw him—his robes were more elaborate, and a new badge of office gleamed on his chest. His eyes widened when he recognized me, but he quickly masked his surprise.

"Liam Knight," he stated, his voice carrying across the empty hall. "You have some nerve coming here."

"Hello, Emerson." I stopped a few paces away from him, Vernon and Haydyn flanking me silently. "I see you've moved up in the world."

His gaze flickered to my undead companions, and I caught a brief flash of revulsion in his eyes. "What are those things?"

"Old friends," I replied casually. "Where's Bancroft?"

Emerson's jaw tightened. "Guild President Bancroft is in a meeting. He can't be disturbed."

"That's unfortunate." I took a step closer, and Vernon and Haydyn mirrored my movement perfectly. "Because I'm here to see him, and I don't intend to leave until I do."

Emerson's hand drifted toward the sword at his hip. "You're not in a position to make demands, Knight. Your presence here is already grounds for your arrest—or worse."

I smiled coldly. "Vernon, show him."

Before Emerson could react, Vernon moved. One moment he was beside me, the next he was directly in front of Emerson. The undead guardian's hand shot out, grabbing Emerson's wrist just as he began to draw his sword. The crack of bone was audible in the silent hall.

Emerson gasped, his face contorting in pain as he dropped to one knee. Vernon released him and returned to my side, all in less than a heartbeat.

"My friends don't like threats," I said quietly. "Now, go tell Bancroft I'm here to talk. Unless you'd prefer my next message to be delivered more... forcefully."

Emerson cradled his broken wrist, hatred burning in his eyes. "You'll regret this."

"I already regret many things," I replied evenly. "Adding you to the list won't make much difference."

With a final glare, Emerson rose unsteadily to his feet and backed away. "Wait here," he spat, then turned and hurried deeper into the Guild complex.

When he was gone, I examined our surroundings more carefully. The entrance hall was impressive—high ceilings supported by ornate columns, walls decorated with murals depicting the Guild's glorious history. The perfect facade for a corrupt institution.

"Stay alert," I murmured to my guardians, though I wasn't sure they needed the instruction. Their vacant eyes constantly scanned the room, tracking even the slightest movements.

Meanwhile, on the top floor of the Guild complex, Darian Bancroft sat behind an imposing desk, surrounded by seven robed figures. Their faces were obscured by shadows, but their powerful auras filled the room like a suffocating miasma.

"The preparations are nearly complete," Bancroft was saying. "Our agents report that Liam Knight has returned to Jade Moon Villa. Once the second Martial Saint Weapon is activated, we'll launch our attack."

On his desk lay two ancient artifacts. One resembled a bronze disc covered in mysterious inscriptions, while the other was a gnarled staff that seemed to absorb the light around it. Both radiated a power that made the air in the room feel heavy.

"Are you certain these weapons will be sufficient?" asked one of the robed figures. "This Knight has proven surprisingly resilient."

Bancroft's smile was cold and confident. "These artifacts were created to kill gods. A mere Military Marquis, no matter how talented, cannot stand against them."

The discussion was interrupted by a sudden knock at the door. Bancroft frowned, his irritation visible. "I left explicit instructions not to be disturbed."

The door opened anyway, revealing Emerson Holmes. His face was pale, and he cradled one arm awkwardly against his chest. The robed figures turned toward him, their disapproval palpable.

"Forgive the interruption, Guild President," Emerson said, his voice strained. "But there's an urgent matter that requires your attention."

"Whatever it is can wait," Bancroft snapped.

Emerson swallowed hard. "You're looking for Liam Knight, right? He's at the entrance of the Association right now. He says he wants to talk to you."

The room went utterly silent. The robed figures exchanged glances, and Bancroft slowly rose from his chair, his knuckles white as he gripped the edge of his desk.

"What did you just say?" he asked, his voice dangerously quiet.