Rise of The Abandoned Husband

The look on Darian Bancroft's face when we arrived at the safe house was worth every risk I'd taken. His eyes widened as he took in the dingy basement, the concrete floors, and the single naked bulb hanging from the ceiling.

"What is this place?" he asked, his voice a mix of disgust and fear.

I gestured to the dog cage in the corner—small, metal, and brutally uncomfortable. "Your new accommodations, Mr. President."

"You can't be serious," he sputtered, looking at the cage that would barely fit a large pet, let alone a grown man. "This is inhumane!"

I stepped closer, letting him see the cold fury in my eyes. "Inhumane? Like keeping Isabelle chained in a cell? Like extracting her blood against her will? Like treating her as a resource rather than a human being?"

His mouth opened, then closed. No words came out.

"George," I said quietly.

My puppet moved forward, gripping Bancroft by the shoulders. The Guild President struggled, but it was like fighting against a mountain. George forced him toward the cage, bending him painfully to fit inside the cramped space.

"This is madness!" Bancroft shouted as the cage door clanged shut. I secured it with a heavy padlock.

"No," I replied. "This is justice."

I turned to leave, ignoring his protests and curses. As I reached the stairs, I looked back over my shoulder. "Two days, Mr. President. Two days until your public execution if Isabelle isn't returned to me."

The door closed behind me, muffling his desperate shouts.

Upstairs, Vernon waited with a steaming cup of tea. His weathered face showed concern as I collapsed into a chair.

"Was that necessary?" he asked, sliding the cup toward me.

I took a long sip before answering. "Yes. He needs to understand what's at stake."

"And if they don't release her?"

The question hung in the air between us. I stared into my cup, watching the tea leaves swirl. "Then I keep my promise."

Vernon sighed heavily. "The Guild isn't known for yielding to threats, Liam."

"They've never faced a threat like me before," I replied.

The silence that followed was broken by the sound of my communication talisman activating. I pulled it out, surprised to see it glowing with an unfamiliar energy signature.

"Knight," a voice crackled through. "This is Emerson Holmes of the Veridia City Martial Guild."

I exchanged a glance with Vernon before responding. "I'm listening."

"Your... demonstration earlier today has caused quite a stir."

"That was the intention," I said coolly.

"We need to discuss terms."

I leaned forward. "The terms are simple. Return Isabelle Ashworth to me, unharmed, and you get your President back."

There was a pause. "It's not that straightforward."

"I've made it straightforward," I countered. "Two days. After that, Bancroft dies, and I start dismantling your Guild building by building."

"You don't understand," Holmes insisted. "President Bancroft is... expendable."

This caught me off guard, though I tried not to show it. "Expendable? He's your leader."

A bitter laugh came through the talisman. "A figurehead. The true power lies elsewhere."

"With your High Council," I said, remembering Bancroft's words.

"Yes," Holmes confirmed. "And they're... displeased, but not desperate. Not yet."

I processed this information. If Bancroft was merely a pawn, my leverage wasn't as strong as I'd thought.

"Then who should I have taken instead?" I asked bluntly.

Another pause. "I shouldn't be telling you this, but... the Guild is more concerned with appearances than personnel. Bancroft can be replaced. Our reputation cannot."

Now we were getting somewhere. "So they care that I humiliated them publicly. That I took their weapon and their President right from under their noses."

"Precisely," Holmes said. "The Guild has maintained its power through fear and respect. You've undermined both."

"Good," I replied. "Then my message is clear—release Isabelle, or watch your precious reputation crumble further when I execute your President in the town square."

"I'll convey your terms," Holmes said, his tone suggesting he didn't expect a favorable response. "But I should warn you—they may decide to cut their losses."

"That's their choice to make," I said grimly. "As I've made mine."

The communication ended, and I set the talisman down, turning to Vernon.

"What do you think?" I asked.

He stroked his beard thoughtfully. "I think you've started a war you may not be able to finish."

"I don't need to finish it," I reminded him. "I just need to get Isabelle back."

"And if they refuse?"

I stood up, my decision already made. "Then the Guild learns what happens when they take something precious from me."

The news of Bancroft's capture spread through Veridia City like wildfire. By nightfall, it was all anyone could talk about. Someone had challenged the all-powerful Martial Guild—and won. The previously untouchable institution was suddenly looking vulnerable.

I monitored the reactions from our safe house, sending Hadwin out to gather intelligence. The reports he brought back were encouraging: public opinion was turning against the Guild. Questions were being asked about their practices, their prisoners, their authority.

"They're scrambling," Hadwin reported. "Emergency meetings, increased security, damage control with the noble families."

"And Isabelle?" I asked, the only question that truly mattered to me.

He shook his head. "No word. If they know where she is, they're keeping it quiet."

I nodded, trying to ignore the gnawing fear in my gut. Where had they taken her? Was she still alive? The possibilities tormented me.

"I'm going to check on our guest," I announced, heading for the basement door.

The stench hit me first—sweat and human waste. Bancroft had been in the cage for nearly twelve hours now, without access to basic facilities. His once-immaculate robes were soiled, his dignified demeanor shattered.

"Water," he croaked when he saw me, his voice hoarse from shouting.

I took a bottle from my pocket and approached the cage. "Information first."

He eyed the water desperately. "What do you want to know?"

"Where would they take a prisoner like Isabelle? Someone they consider... valuable."

Bancroft licked his cracked lips. "I told you, I don't know."

I started to withdraw the water, and he pressed himself against the bars.

"Wait!" he gasped. "There are... facilities. Research facilities. Outside the city."

"Where exactly?"

He shook his head. "I don't have that information. Only the High Council knows the locations."

I studied his face for signs of deception but saw only exhaustion and pain. Reluctantly, I uncapped the bottle and held it to his lips, allowing him small sips.

"Thank you," he murmured when I pulled it away.

"Don't thank me," I said coldly. "This isn't mercy. I just need you alive for the next two days."

His eyes narrowed. "You're really going to kill me if they don't give her back, aren't you?"

"Without hesitation," I confirmed.

"And you think that will help you find her?"

I crouched down to his level. "Maybe not. But it will send a message that I'm willing to go further than anyone expects. That I won't stop until I have her back."

"You're insane," he whispered, echoing his earlier assessment.

"No," I replied. "I'm in love. And your Guild took her from me."

I left him there, huddled in the corner of his cage, and returned upstairs. Night had fallen, and the safe house was quiet except for Vernon's soft snoring from the adjacent room.

I stepped outside onto the small balcony, gazing at the lights of Veridia City. Somewhere out there, decisions were being made about Isabelle's fate—and mine. The thought kept me awake through the night, planning my next move if the Guild refused my demands.

Morning brought another communication from Holmes.

"Knight," his voice came through, tense and hurried. "There's a meeting happening now. The High Council is discussing your ultimatum."

My heart raced. "And?"

"It's not looking favorable," he admitted. "Some want to cut ties with Bancroft completely, declare him a traitor for being captured."

"That won't save their reputation," I pointed out.

"I know," he sighed. "But others are worried about precedent. If they give in to your demands, what's to stop others from trying the same tactics?"

I gripped the talisman tightly. "So they'd rather let their President die than show weakness?"

"The Guild has existed for centuries by never bending," Holmes explained. "It's... complicated."

"No," I corrected him. "It's very simple. Isabelle for Bancroft. Life for life."

There was a long pause before Holmes spoke again. "There's something else you should know. The higher-ups... they're not just protecting their image. They're protecting something bigger."

"What do you mean?"

"Isabelle Ashworth isn't just a prisoner," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "She's part of something... I don't even know what. But it's important enough that they might sacrifice Bancroft."

My blood ran cold. What had they done to her? What were they planning?

"Tell them this," I said, forcing calm into my voice. "If Isabelle isn't returned to me by tomorrow noon, I will execute Darian Bancroft in the central plaza. And then I will hunt down each member of your High Council, one by one, until I find her."

"They're powerful cultivators," Holmes warned. "More powerful than you can imagine."

"I don't care," I replied. "They took the wrong woman from the wrong man."

After ending the communication, I went to check on Bancroft again. He looked even worse than before—pale, shivering, his broken hand swollen and discolored.

"They're going to let me die, aren't they?" he asked as I approached.

I didn't answer immediately, instead passing him another water bottle.

"Your Guild values principles over people," I finally said. "Even their own."

He drank greedily before responding. "You still don't understand. The Guild is bigger than any individual. It's an institution, a pillar of society."

"A corrupt pillar," I countered. "Built on exploitation and secrets."

Bancroft laughed weakly. "All power structures have secrets, Knight. The Guild just has better ones than most."

"Like what they're doing with Isabelle?"

His expression changed subtly—a flicker of unease. "That's beyond my clearance level."

"But you know something," I pressed.

He looked away. "Only rumors. Nothing concrete."

"Tell me."

Bancroft hesitated, then sighed. "Her blood... it has properties. Special properties. They say it can enhance cultivation, break through bottlenecks."

My stomach twisted with rage and disgust. "They're harvesting her blood?"

"As I said, these are just rumors," he backpedaled. "But if true... they wouldn't give her up easily."

I turned away, struggling to contain my fury. The thought of Isabelle being used like that—drained, weakened, treated as nothing more than a resource—made me want to tear the entire city apart.

"One day left," I reminded him before heading back upstairs.

The final day dawned with tense anticipation. I prepared for both outcomes: Isabelle's return or Bancroft's execution. Vernon and Hadwin helped me secure the route to the central plaza, identifying escape paths and potential ambush points.

"Are you certain about this?" Vernon asked as we finalized our plans. "Once you cross this line, there's no going back."

"I crossed that line the moment they took her," I replied.

Mid-morning, my talisman activated again. It was Holmes.

"There's been a decision," he announced.

I held my breath. "And?"

"I need to deliver it in person," he said. "Central plaza, noon."

Suspicion flared in me. "Is this a trap?"

"No trap," he assured me. "Just protocol. The Guild's response must be official and witnessed."

I considered this. "Bring no more than two people with you. Any sign of treachery, and Bancroft dies instantly."

"Understood," Holmes replied. "Noon."

The hours crawled by as we made final preparations. I visited Bancroft one last time, finding him barely conscious in his cage.

"It's time," I told him, opening the door.

He crawled out stiffly, his limbs uncooperative after nearly two days in confinement. George lifted him roughly to his feet.

"Clean him up," I ordered. "He needs to look presentable, whether for his return or his execution."

Hadwin brought a basin of water and fresh clothes—not as fine as Bancroft's ruined robes, but clean and dignified enough. We allowed him to wash and change, though George kept a watchful eye on him throughout.

"Do you think they'll trade?" Bancroft asked as we prepared to leave.

"For your sake, I hope so," I replied honestly.

We arrived at the central plaza early, positioning ourselves strategically. I had George keep Bancroft kneeling in the center, visible to anyone who approached. The Prajna Ruler rested across my knees as I sat on a raised platform, a clear symbol of my stolen power.

Crowds began to gather, drawn by rumors and speculation. I recognized faces from the Guild, nobles from prominent families, ordinary citizens curious about the confrontation. The tension was palpable, electric in the air.

At precisely noon, Emerson Holmes appeared at the edge of the plaza. As promised, he brought only two companions—stern-faced Guild elders I didn't recognize.

Holmes approached slowly, his hands raised to show he carried no weapons. When he reached speaking distance, he bowed slightly.

"Liam Knight," he greeted me formally. "I bring the response of the Veridia City Martial Guild to your ultimatum."

I nodded, maintaining my composed exterior despite my racing heart. "Speak."

Holmes glanced at Bancroft, then back to me. "The Guild acknowledges your... leverage in this matter. President Bancroft's capture has created an unprecedented situation."

"Cut to the chase," I said impatiently. "Is Isabelle being returned to me or not?"

Holmes shifted uncomfortably. "The situation is complex. President Bancroft's position is significant, but—"

"Yes or no?" I interrupted, rising to my feet.

The crowd grew silent, hanging on his response.

"The High Council has determined that while President Bancroft's safe return is desirable..." Holmes began carefully.

My grip tightened on the Prajna Ruler. I already knew what was coming.

"...they cannot agree to exchange Isabelle Ashworth at this time," he finished.

Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Bancroft's head dropped in resignation.

"Then you've sealed his fate," I said coldly, raising the weapon.

"Wait!" Holmes called urgently. "The Council authorized me to offer an alternative."

I paused, skeptical but willing to listen. "What alternative?"

"Information," he said. "About where Isabelle Ashworth is being held. Not her release, but knowledge of her location."

I considered this. It wasn't what I'd demanded, but it was something—a start.

"And why would they offer that?" I asked suspiciously.

Holmes glanced around nervously before lowering his voice. "Because some of us believe this has gone too far. What they're doing with her... it isn't right."

This surprised me. Dissent within the Guild?

"What guarantee do I have that this information is accurate?"

"None," Holmes admitted. "Except my word that I've verified it personally."

I studied him carefully, searching for signs of deception. Finding none, I made my decision.

"Tell me where she is," I demanded. "Then you can have your President back."

Holmes hesitated, clearly weighing his options. Finally, he stepped closer and whispered a location—an old mining complex, repurposed as a research facility, hidden in the mountains north of the city.

I committed it to memory, then nodded to George. "Release him."

George pushed Bancroft forward, and the President stumbled toward his colleagues. The two Guild elders caught him, supporting his weakened frame.

"This isn't over," I announced to Holmes and the gathered crowd. "If your information proves false, or if Isabelle has been harmed further, I'll return for more than just your President next time."

Holmes bowed again, deeper this time. "The Guild acknowledges your... commitment, Liam Knight."

As they retreated with Bancroft, I turned to Vernon and Hadwin. "We leave immediately. The mining complex."

"And if it's a trap?" Vernon asked quietly.

"Then we spring it," I replied, my resolve hardening. "One way or another, I'm getting Isabelle back today."

In the conference room of the Veridia City Martial Guild, Emerson Holmes faced the sha