The dawn light filtered through the small, barred window of my cell, casting long shadows across the grimy floor. From outside came the sounds of hammering and construction – the final touches on what would soon be my execution tform.


    "One hour until showtime, Knight," the guard sneered as he passed my cell.


    I remained seated on the cold stone floor, my back against the wall, eyes closed in meditation. The chains around my wrists were heavy, but my spirit refused to be weighed down.


    "How can you stay so damn calm?" whispered a prisoner from the next cell over. "They''re going to kill you out there."


    I opened my eyes, ncing at the man. "We all die someday. The only question is how we face it."


    The cellblock had grown eerily quiet. All eyes were on me – the condemned man who showed no fear. Some watched with pity, others with curiosity, a few with a strange sort of respect.


    An older prisoner pressed his face against the bars of his cell. "If you somehow make it out of this alive, Knight, remember me. I could be useful to you."


    "Me too," another called out. "I''ve got connections all through Eldoria Province."


    I nodded slightly, acknowledging them. Even facing death, I was gathering allies. That''s how survival worked in this world – you never knew when a connection might save your life.


    The main door to the cellblock swung open with a metallic groan. Gage Mcbride strode in, nked by four armed guards. His face was set in cruel satisfaction.


    "It''s time, Knight," he announced. "The public has gathered to witness justice being served."


    I rose slowly to my feet, dusting off my prison clothes. "Justice? Is that what you call this farce?"


    Mcbride''s smile faltered slightly. "You refused to heal the son of Conrad Thornton. The punishment for such defiance is death."


    "I refused to heal someone who tried to kill me," I corrected him. "But I suppose truth matters little to men like you."


    His face flushed with anger. He stepped closer, lowering his voice so only I could hear. "I''m going to enjoy watching you die today. Maybe I''ll visit that pretty Vance girl afterward... to offer my condolences."


    My eyes locked with his, and something in my expression made him take an involuntary step backward.


    "Touch ra Vance," I said quietly, "and I promise you, death will feel like a mercy when I''m finished with you."


    "Big words from a dead man," he scoffed, but his voice wavered slightly.


    The guards opened my cell, securing additional restraints around my ankles before marching me forward. As we moved through the cellblock, prisoners called out to me.


    "Stay strong, Knight!"


    "They can kill you, but they can''t break you!"


    I walked with my head high, refusing to show weakness. The morning sun blinded me momentarily as we stepped into the courtyard. A crowd had gathered – officials, martial artists, and ordinary citizens, alle to witness my execution.


    In the center stood a massive wooden scaffold, far more borate than I had expected. Intricate markings were carved into the wood, forming patterns that seemed to pulse with hidden energy. This was no ordinary execution tform.


    "Like what you see?" Mcbride whispered behind me. "It''s a special formation, designed specifically for you."


    My eyes narrowed as I studied the tform more carefully. The markings weren''t just decorative – they formed aplex suppression formation, designed to neutralize a cultivator''s energy. Whatever they had nned for me, it went beyond a simple beheading.


    ---


    Across town, the atmosphere in the Thornton family manor was charged with tension. Conrad Thornton paced his study, asionally ncing at the clock. In less than an hour, Liam Knight would be dead, and the insult to his family would be washed away with blood.


    The sudden m of his front doors being thrown open jolted him from his thoughts. Heavy footsteps approached, and before his guards could react, his study door burst open.


    Isabelle Ashworth stood in the doorway, her face a mask of cold fury. Behind her loomed eight ck-d figures – Grandmasters from the Ashworth family, their auras radiating deadly intent.


    "Miss Ashworth," Conrad stammered, his face paling. "This is... unexpected."


    Isabelle stepped into the room, her movements graceful despite her obvious anger. "Is it? Did you think you could touch what belongs to me without consequences?"


    Conrad''s throat went dry. The Ashworth family from Veridia City was not just wealthy – they were one of the most powerful families in the country, with connections that reached into every corner of society.


    "I don''t understand," he said carefully. "What property of yours have I taken?"


    Isabelle''s eyes shed dangerously. "Liam Knight. You''ve sentenced him to death."


    Conrad felt the blood drain from his face. "Knight? He''s... connected to your family? But he''s just a—"


    "Choose your next words with extreme care," Isabelle cut him off, her voice like ice. "The man you''ve imprisoned saved my life. He''s under the protection of the Ashworth family."


    Conrad''s mind raced. If Liam Knight was truly protected by the Ashworths, he had made a terrible mistake. But his son was still lying in a hospital bed, fighting for his life.


    "Miss Ashworth, with all due respect, Knight refused to heal my son after he was grievously injured. My son could die because of him."


    "Your son attacked him first," Isabelle replied coldly. "I''ve been fully briefed on the situation."


    She took a seat uninvited, crossing her legs elegantly. Her eight Grandmaster guards remained standing, their eyes never leaving Conrad.


    "However," she continued, "I''m not unreasonable. Show me to your son, and I''ll have my personal physician examine him."


    Conrad hesitated, then nodded. "He''s upstairs."


    Isabelle rose, following Conrad to the second floor where Tristan Mercery unconscious, his face pale and drawn.


    She studied him briefly, then turned to one of her guards. "Bring in Dr. Pierce."


    An elderly man with kind eyes entered the room, carrying a medical bag. After a thorough examination, he turned to Isabelle.


    "His condition is serious but not untreatable. With proper care, he should recover in time."


    Isabelle nodded, then faced Conrad again. "Now, about Liam Knight." <code ss="frag-00a5fe">Check<i ss="node-sep"></i>for<i ss="node-sep"></i>the<i ss="node-sep"></itest<i ss="node-sep"></i>updates<i ss="node-sep"></i>on<i ss="node-sep"></i>My<i ss="node-sep"></i>Virtual<i ss="node-sep"></i>Library<i ss="node-sep"></i>Empire<i ss="node-sep"></i>(*).</code>


    Conrad swallowed hard. "Miss Ashworth, I understand your concern, but my family''s honor—"


    "Your family''s honor?" Isabelle''sugh was brittle. "Let me be clear, Mr. Thornton. Your regional influence means nothingpared to the power of the Ashworth family."


    To demonstrate her point, she nced at one of her Grandmasters. "Kill the son."


    The Grandmaster moved with blinding speed toward Tristan''s bed.


    "NO!" Conrad screamed, throwing himself between the Grandmaster and his son. "Please!"


    The Grandmaster stopped, his hand hovering inches from Tristan''s throat.


    Isabelle regarded Conrad with cold detachment. "That''s how easy it would be. Your son''s life hangs by a thread, and I can cut it whenever I choose."


    Conrad fell to his knees. "Please, Miss Ashworth. I beg you."


    "Now you understand," she said softly. "This is the difference between your power and mine. Between your family and the Ashworths."


    She gestured for the Grandmaster to step back. "Release Liam Knight immediately, and I''ll consider this matter closed."


    "I''ll call the Martial Arts Association right away," Conrad said, scrambling to his feet. "But the execution is scheduled to begin soon. I''m not sure if there''s enough time..."


    "Then I suggest you hurry," Isabelle replied, her voice deadly quiet. "Because if Liam Knight dies today, so does your entire family. Starting with your son."


    Conrad rushed from the room, shouting for his car to be brought around.


    Isabelle moved to the window, looking out at the horizon in the direction of the Martial Arts Association. Her fingers gripped the windowsill tightly.


    "Hold on, Liam," she whispered. "I''ming."


    ---


    I stood at the base of the execution tform, studying the intricate patterns carved into the wood. Each symbol seemed to pulse with malevolent energy, forming aplex formation I''d never encountered before.


    "Impressed?" asked a voice behind me.


    I turned to see an elderly man in ornate robes – a senior elder of the Martial Arts Association.


    "It''s not a standard execution formation," I observed.


    He nodded, a small smile ying on his lips. "Very perceptive. This is a Soul Binding Formation, originally designed to execute rogue cultivators. It doesn''t just kill the body – it traps the soul, preventing reincarnation."


    A chill ran down my spine. "Seems excessive for someone whose only crime was refusing to heal an attacker."


    "Perhaps," the elder conceded. "But Conrad Thornton insisted. He wants to make an example of you."


    Guards pushed me forward, up the steps onto the tform. The crowd''s murmurs grew louder as I was positioned in the center of the formation. The markings beneath my feet began to glow faintly.


    Gage Mcbride stepped forward, unrolling a scroll. "Liam Knight, you have been found guilty of crimes against the Thornton family. The sentence is death, to be carried out immediately."


    My eyes scanned the crowd, searching for any sign of allies or an opportunity to escape. The formation was already affecting me, draining my energy, making my limbs feel heavy.


    "Anyst words?" Mcbride asked with a smirk.


    I looked him straight in the eyes. "Just remember what I promised you."


    His smirk faltered.


    The executioner stepped forward, raising a ceremonial de that gleamed in the morning sun. The crowd fell silent, anticipating the final moment.


    Suddenly, the sound of screeching tires broke the silence. A ck car skidded to a halt at the edge of the courtyard. Conrad Thornton leapt out, his face flushed and panicked.


    "STOP!" he shouted, running toward the tform. "Stop the execution immediately!"


    Mcbride turned, confusion evident on his face. "Sir? What''s happening?"


    Conrad reached the tform, breathing heavily. "Release him. Now!"


    "But sir, everything is prepared—"


    "I said release him!" Conrad roared. "The Ashworth family has imed him as theirs. Do you understand what that means? Release him before they arrive!"


    Murmurs rippled through the crowd at the mention of the Ashworth name. Mcbride paled, signaling the guards to unlock my restraints.


    As the chains fell away, I rubbed my wrists, looking at Conrad with newfound interest. "The Ashworth family? Would that happen to include Isabelle Ashworth?"


    Conrad couldn''t meet my eyes. "This execution is canceled. You''re free to go."


    "Just like that?" I asked, stepping carefully off the formation. My strength began returning immediately as I moved away from its influence.


    "Just like that," Conrad confirmed bitterly. "Consider yourself fortunate, Knight. Very few men escape the justice of the Thornton family."


    I was about to respond when another car arrived, this one sleeker and more luxurious than Conrad''s. Eight imposing figures emerged first, forming a protective circle around the passenger door.


    When Isabelle Ashworth stepped out, the entire courtyard seemed to hold its breath. Her beauty was matched only by the aura of power and authority that surrounded her.


    She walked directly toward me, ignoring everyone else. When she reached me, her eyes quickly assessed my condition.


    "Are you hurt?" she asked, her voice carrying genuine concern.


    "Nothing serious," I assured her. "I''m more curious about how you knew I was here."


    A small smile touched her lips. "ra Vance called me. It seems you have loyal friends."


    Isabelle turned to Conrad, who bowed deeply in deference. "Is everything resolved to your satisfaction, Miss Ashworth?"


    "Not quite," she replied coolly. "This tform. What is it?"


    Conrad hesitated. "A standard execution—"


    "Don''t lie to me," Isabelle cut him off. "This is a Soul Binding Formation. Such things are forbidden except for the most heinous criminals."


    Conrad''s face drained of color. "I... I wasn''t aware—"


    "Save your excuses," Isabelle turned to her guards. "Destroy it."


    Two of the Grandmasters stepped forward, channeling energy into their palms. With synchronized movements, they struck the tform. The wood splintered with a deafening crack, the formation symbols ring briefly before fading to nothing.


    I watched with growing fascination. Isabelle Ashworth wielded her power with effortless grace,manding respect without raising her voice. And she hade all this way to save me.


    As we prepared to leave, I paused beside Conrad Thornton. "Your son will recover," I told him quietly. "But remember this moment the next time you consider moving against me."


    His eyes widened slightly, but he said nothing.


    Isabelle''s hand touched my arm gently. "Come. My grandfather wishes to speak with you."


    As we walked toward her car, surrounded by her Grandmaster guards, I couldn''t help but wonder what new chapter was beginning in my life. The Ashworth family''s interest in me couldn''t be coincidental.


    Behind us, the remains of the execution tform smoldered, its intricate formation destroyed. But as I nced back onest time, I noticed something unsettling – at the center of the broken wood, where I had been standing just minutes before, the symbols were reforming on their own, glowing with an eerie light that no one else seemed to notice.


    Whatever that formation had been designed to do, I had only narrowly escaped it. And I had a feeling its purpose went far beyond a simple execution.