Rise of The Abandoned Husband

Ms. Hayward stood before me, her cold eyes glittering with barely contained malice. Behind her, three purple-robed enforcers formed a semi-circle, their faces hidden by deep hoods. The fourth lay at my feet, groaning softly, his arm bent at an unnatural angle.

"You've made a grave mistake," she said, her voice like ice. "That arm can be healed. Your fate won't be so easily mended."

I kept my expression neutral despite the anger simmering inside me. "I don't respond well to threats, Ms. Hayward."

"This isn't a threat." Her lips curved into a cruel smile. "It's a promise from Master Broderick himself."

The private room of the Sapphire Depths clubhouse suddenly felt smaller, the underwater viewing panels that had seemed so magnificent moments ago now making me feel trapped. Outside the glass, exotic fish darted through artificial coral gardens, oblivious to the tension inside.

"Your orders are to cripple, not kill," I said, watching her reaction carefully. "I wonder why Broderick wants me alive."

Her eye twitched slightly—I'd hit a nerve. "Don't flatter yourself. He merely wants you to witness his triumph before he breaks you completely."

One of her robed enforcers stepped forward, whispering something in her ear. She nodded, her gaze never leaving mine.

"You have temporary protection," she admitted reluctantly. "But that won't last forever. And when it expires..." She made a crushing motion with her fist.

I was calculating my odds against the remaining three enforcers when the door burst open. Guy Noble stormed in, his usually composed face flushed with anger.

"What the hell is going on here?" he demanded, taking in the scene—the injured enforcer on the floor, Ms. Hayward and her men, and me standing across from them. "This is my family's establishment!"

Ms. Hayward barely spared him a glance. "This doesn't concern you, boy. Run along."

Guy's face darkened. "I am Guy Noble. This is my club. You don't dismiss me in my own house."

I kept my eyes on Ms. Hayward and her enforcers. One wrong move, and this would turn ugly fast.

"Your security guard is dead," I told Guy, my voice tight with controlled rage. "Jensen. She killed him for being 'indiscreet.'"

Guy froze, his anger shifting to something colder, more dangerous. "Is this true?"

Ms. Hayward shrugged. "The boy was in my way. Overly enthusiastic about meeting his... idol." She gestured toward me with contempt.

"You killed a Noble family employee?" Guy's voice had dropped to a whisper. "In our establishment?"

"He was nothing. A bug beneath my heel." Ms. Hayward waved dismissively. "Much like this entire city. Downton—" she chuckled, "—even the name reeks of provincial mediocrity."

I watched Guy's face transform as her words sank in. His nostrils flared, and a vein pulsed at his temple.

"Provincial?" he repeated slowly. "You dare call the Noble family provincial?"

"What else would you call it?" Ms. Hayward swept her arm in a contemptuous arc. "This underwater playhouse, this backwater city... do you honestly believe any of this matters in the greater scheme? Your family is a footnote, young Noble. A minor power in a forgotten corner."

The temperature in the room seemed to drop. Guy's cultivation energy flared, rippling the air around him.

One of Ms. Hayward's enforcers stepped closer to her, whispering urgently in her ear. This time, I caught fragments of his warning.

"...Noble family... dozens of Military Marquis... connections to the Imperial Capital..."

Ms. Hayward's expression flickered, reassessing. She hadn't done her homework on the local powers. A dangerous oversight.

"Perhaps I've spoken too harshly," she said, her tone unchanged but her stance subtly shifting. "Business has made me impatient. I apologize for the disturbance in your... establishment."

But it was too late. Guy's pride had been wounded, and I could see the calculation in his eyes. Ms. Hayward had made a critical error—underestimating a powerful family on their home turf.

"You will leave," Guy said, each word precise and cold. "Now. And know that your welcome in Downton City has expired."

Ms. Hayward's lips thinned, but she gestured to her enforcers. They helped their injured companion to his feet. As they moved toward the door, she paused beside me.

"This changes nothing between us, Knight," she whispered. "I'll have what I came for—and your broken body as a bonus."

I met her gaze steadily. "You're not the first to try."

After they left, Guy paced the room, his anger still radiating from him in waves.

"She killed Jensen?" he asked, stopping suddenly.

I nodded. "I saw the blood. She didn't even try to deny it."

"And she called us provincial," he said, his voice tight. "A footnote. A minor power." Each word seemed to stoke his anger further.

I watched him carefully. Guy's wounded pride might be useful to me, but I wasn't about to manipulate him. Not after what had happened to Jensen.

"I'm sorry about your man," I said quietly.

Guy stopped pacing and looked at me, really looked at me for the first time. "Jensen was twenty-two. He joined our security team right out of the academy. Always talked about how he wanted to be like the great Liam Knight someday." His laugh was bitter. "Guess he got his wish—meeting you before he died."

The words hit me like a physical blow. Another young life cut short because of my actions, my presence.

"I'm sorry," I said again, inadequate but sincere.

Guy took a deep breath. "This isn't your fault. It's hers." He clenched his fists. "And she thinks she can just walk away. Thinks we're nothing. Provincial nobodies."

I stayed silent, letting him process his anger. Finally, he looked up, his eyes sharp with purpose.

"She has no idea who she's insulted," he said. "The Noble family has stood in Downton City for eight generations. We have branches in four major cities. My grandfather sits on the Imperial Advisory Council!"

His cultivation energy flared again, this time controlled and focused.

"Do you know how many Military Marquis serve our family?" he demanded.

"I don't," I admitted.

"Thirty-seven," he answered, pride evident in his voice. "Eleven in Downton alone. My father cultivated to half-step Military King decades ago. We're not some country bumpkins playing at power."

I nodded, reassessing my own understanding of the Noble family. I'd known they were influential locally, but this suggested connections and strength far beyond what I'd assumed.

"She made an enemy today," I said. "A powerful one."

"Yes," Guy agreed, a cold smile forming on his lips. "And she doesn't even realize it yet." He turned to me abruptly. "You're after the Ten-Thousand-Year-Old Celestial Grass, aren't you? At tomorrow's Island Gala?"

I hesitated only briefly before nodding. No point in denying what was obvious.

"For your woman. The one Broderick poisoned."

"Yes," I said. "Isabelle."

Guy nodded thoughtfully. "Ms. Hayward works for Broderick. She insulted my family and killed my man." He began pacing again, but this time with purpose rather than anger. "An alliance would benefit us both, don't you think?"

I considered his words carefully. "What kind of alliance?"

"I help you get the herb. You help me show Ms. Hayward exactly how 'provincial' the Noble family can be." His smile was sharp now, predatory. "My father will want to meet you. To discuss the details."

This was an unexpected turn, but potentially a valuable one. With the Noble family as allies, my chances of obtaining the Celestial Grass—and saving Isabelle—had just improved dramatically.

"You understand I need the herb intact," I said. "For Isabelle."

"Of course. The herb is yours," Guy assured me. "We're more interested in sending a message." He extended his hand. "Partners?"

I took his hand, feeling the considerable strength in his grip. "Partners."

"Excellent." Guy's smile broadened. "Now, follow me. My father will be furious about Jensen's death, and we shouldn't keep him waiting."

As we left the private room, I glanced back at the small bloodstain on the floor—all that remained of a young man who'd admired me. His death wouldn't be in vain. I would get the Celestial Grass, save Isabelle, and ensure Ms. Hayward and Broderick paid for their cruelty.

Guy led me through the underwater clubhouse, past curious onlookers who sensed something significant had occurred. We took a different elevator than the main one—smaller, requiring a special key card.

"This goes directly to our family compound," Guy explained as the doors closed.

As we ascended through the water, he studied me with newfound interest. "You know, when I first heard of you—the legendary Liam Knight—I expected someone more... imposing."

"Sorry to disappoint," I replied dryly.

He laughed. "Oh, you misunderstand. I'm not disappointed at all. It's far more interesting that you appear so... ordinary. Makes your accomplishments all the more impressive."

The elevator broke the surface inside what appeared to be a private boathouse. Two guards stood at attention as we stepped out.

"Young Master," they greeted Guy with synchronized bows.

"Where's my father?" Guy asked.

"In the strategy room, sir. With the elders."

Guy nodded, unsurprised. "Come," he said to me. "They're already planning."

We walked through marble hallways adorned with ancient artifacts and modern art in equal measure. The Noble family home was a blend of tradition and power, every corner speaking of wealth accumulated over generations.

Guy paused outside an ornate door. "Before we enter—my father is not a man who tolerates weakness. Stand tall, speak firmly, and don't back down unless you have good reason."

"I don't make a habit of backing down," I said quietly.

"Good." He pushed open the door.

Inside, seven men sat around a circular table, all focused on a holographic display showing what appeared to be security footage from the clubhouse. The oldest man—silver-haired but straight-backed and keen-eyed—looked up as we entered.

"Father," Guy said, bowing slightly. "This is Liam Knight."

The elder Noble's eyes fixed on me, assessing and penetrating. "The alchemist who created the Heavenly Restoration Pill."

It wasn't a question, but I nodded anyway. "Yes, sir."

"And now you find yourself in conflict with Broderick's emissary." He gestured to the footage, which showed my earlier confrontation with Ms. Hayward.

"She wants what I need," I said simply. "The Ten-Thousand-Year-Old Celestial Grass."

The elder Noble steepled his fingers. "And why should the Noble family involve itself in your personal vendetta?"

Before I could answer, Guy stepped forward. "She killed Jensen, Father. And she called us provincial. A footnote."

A ripple of anger passed through the room. The elder Noble's expression didn't change, but the temperature seemed to drop several degrees.

"Did she, now?" he said softly, dangerously.

Guy nodded. "She dismissed our entire family. Our city. Said we were nothing in the greater scheme."

The elder Noble was silent for a long moment. Then he looked directly at me.

"Mr. Knight, my son seems to think an alliance would benefit us both. I'm inclined to agree, but I need to know—what exactly are you planning to do with the Celestial Grass?"

"Save someone important to me," I answered honestly. "Isabelle Ashworth. She's been poisoned by a unique toxin. The grass is her only hope."

He nodded slowly. "And after that? What are your intentions toward Broderick?"

I met his gaze squarely. "He made this personal. I intend to return the favor."

A thin smile appeared on the elder Noble's face. "Good." He turned to the other men at the table. "Gentlemen, I believe we've found our catalyst."

One of the other elders leaned forward. "Are you certain, Alexander? This could escalate quickly."

"It already has," the elder Noble—Alexander—replied. "They killed one of ours and insulted our name. The question is not whether we respond, but how thoroughly."

He turned back to me. "Liam Knight, come home with me to see my dad. I want them to see the power of our Noble Family!"