Corbin Ashworth paced furiously across his private study, his footsteps echoing against the polished marble floor. The confrontation with Isabelle had left him seething. Guardians! How dare she summon thosepdogs against him?


    "That insolent girl!" he snarled, mming his fist against the desk.


    The door opened, and his wife Zara Beaumont glided in, her elegant features betraying nothing of her thoughts.


    "I assume things didn''t go as nned," she said coolly, closing the door behind her.


    "She had Guardian Leif and his men waiting! My own father bypassed me and gave her control of his personal guard!"


    Zara settled into a leather armchair, crossing her legs. "Did you really think Michael wouldn''t have contingencies in ce? He was always thorough."


    "She''s just a girl!" Corbin spat. "The Ashworth family has never been led by a woman!"


    "And yet here we are." Zara''s tone was measured, calcting. "What concerns me is that we''ve lost control of both Michael''s body and his guards in one day. That''s quite the strategic blunder, dear."


    I red at her. "I don''t need yourmentary. I need solutions."


    Zara smiled thinly. "Fortunately for you, I''ve been preparing for this possibility for years."


    She rose and poured two sses of whiskey, handing one to Corbin. The amber liquid caught the light as she swirled it thoughtfully.


    "Isabelle''s greatest weakness is her sentimentality," Zara continued. "She follows her heart, not her head. That''s why she''s protecting Liam Knight."


    "That outsider," Corbin growled. "If I could just eliminate him—"


    "You''re thinking too small," Zara interrupted. "Why kill the man when you can use him as leverage? More importantly, why fight for control of Michael''s corpse when we can use it as a weapon?"


    Corbin paused, his eyes narrowing. "What are you suggesting?"


    "Simple. We find where Liam has taken Michael''s body. Then we threaten to destroy itpletely—burning it to ash—unless Isabelle relinquishes her im to leadership."


    A slow smile spread across Corbin''s face. "She''d do anything to bring her grandfather back."


    "Exactly." Zara sipped her whiskey. "She may have Guardian Leif, but we have connections she can''t imagine. Starting with the Knightwood Family."


    Corbin nodded, reaching for his secure phone. "Colt Knightwood owes me several favors. And he''s known for his... efficiency." <b ss="meta-ref-static">This text was acquired from *.</b>


    Within moments, the call connected. "Colt. I need your services." Corbin''s voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "I need you to find and eliminate Liam Knight. He''s traveling southwest with an ornate coffin. My sources indicate he''s heading to Earth Fiend Valley. I want him stopped before he gets there."


    He listened for a moment, then smiled coldly. "The price is no object. This is a matter of family honor."


    After ending the call, he turned to Zara. "Colt will deploy hiswork immediately. Liam Knight''s days are numbered."


    "Good." Zara''s eyes glinted with satisfaction. "While he handles that, we''ll consolidate our support within the family. Isabelle may have the guardians, but we have years of alliances to draw upon."


    Corbin raised his ss in a mock toast. "To the brief reign of Isabelle Ashworth."


    ---


    The portal deposited me in a small clearing outside the southwest region''srgest city. My spatial disc dimmed, its energy temporarily depleted. The servants carefully ced Michael''s coffin on the waiting cart I''d arranged.


    "Thank you," I said, dismissing them with a generous payment. "I''ll take it from here."


    Now alone with Michael''s body, I checked my phone. Conrad Thornton''s arrangements would take several more hours. I needed allies—powerful ones—if this resurrection had any chance of sess.


    The Earth Fiend Valley Resurrection Formation required at least three Grandmasters to stabilize the energy flow. I had to find them quickly.


    I scrolled through my contacts and stopped at a name: Evelyn Norton. She owed me a favor after I''d saved her daughter from a rare poison. As an influential figure in the southwest martial artsmunity, she might know Grandmasters willing to help.


    The call connected after three rings.


    "Mr. Knight," Evelyn''s surprised voice came through. "This is unexpected."


    "I need your help urgently," I said, exining my situation while omitting certain sensitive details. "Do you know any Grandmasters in this region who might assist me?"


    She hesitated. "This is dangerous territory, Mr. Knight. But... there is someone. Rishi Sutton at the Unchon City Martial Arts Association. He''s a Martial Marquis with connections to several Grandmasters."


    "Can you arrange an introduction?"


    "No need. Just mention my name. I''ve spoken of you before." Her voice lowered. "Be careful, Mr. Knight. The southwest territories have their own politics. Trust no onepletely."


    I thanked her and ended the call, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. The city skyline loomed ahead—Unchon City, known for its ancient martial traditions and fierce territorial disputes.


    Two hourster, after securing Michael''s coffin in a heavily warded storage facility, I stood before the imposing Unchon City Martial Arts Association building. Six golden pirs supported its entrance, each carved with scenes of legendary battles.


    The receptionist, a young woman with sharp eyes, looked up as I approached.


    "I''m here to see Rishi Sutton," I said confidently. "Evelyn Norton suggested I speak with him."


    Her eyebrows raised slightly at Evelyn''s name. "Your name, sir?"


    "Liam Knight."


    She nodded, pressing a button on her desk. "Please wait a moment."


    I took a seat in the opulent waiting area, scanning my surroundings. Martial arts trophies lined the walls, interspersed with portraits of stern-faced masters. Despite the grandeur, something felt off. The air seemed charged with tension, and I caught several staff members ncing my way with poorly concealed interest.


    After ten minutes, the receptionist returned. "Mr. Sutton will see you now. Third floor, end of the hall."


    I thanked her and headed for the elevator, unable to shake my growing unease. Evelyn''s warning echoed in my mind: Trust no onepletely.


    The third floor was quieter, its carpeted hallway muffling my footsteps. Large wooden doors lined both sides, each bearing a namete. At the end of the corridor stood double doors with "Rishi Sutton - Association Vice President" engraved on a golden que.


    I knocked firmly.


    "Enter," called a deep voice from within.


    As I reached for the handle, I didn''t notice the receptionist returning to her desk downstairs, her face suddenly tense. She nced around to ensure no one was watching, then quickly pulled out a secure phone.


    Her fingers dialed a number from memory. When the line connected, she spoke in a hushed, urgent tone.


    "Sir, a man named Liam Knight is here to see Mr. Sutton. He mentioned Evelyn Norton."


    Inside the office, Rishi Sutton—a powerfully built man in his fifties—sat behind an enormous desk. Before acknowledging me, he finished reading a document, signed it with deliberate strokes, then finally looked up.


    "Mr. Knight," he said, his voice neutral. "Please, sit. How can the Association assist you today?"


    I took the offered seat, studying him carefully. "I need to perform aplex ritual that requires at least three Grandmasters. Time is critical."


    "Grandmasters?" Sutton raised an eyebrow. "That''s quite the request. What kind of ritual are we discussing?"


    "A restoration," I replied cautiously. "For someone of great importance."


    Sutton nodded slowly. "I see. And Ms. Norton suggested I could help?"


    "She spoke highly of your connections."


    "Did she now?" Something shed in his eyes—calction, perhaps, or wariness. "This ritual... it wouldn''t happen to involve forbidden techniques, would it?"


    I maintained a neutral expression. "The technique is ancient, but not forbidden. It''s merely...plex."


    "I see." He leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled. "Well, Mr. Knight, this is certainly an unusual request. I''ll need some time to consider it and contact potential participants."


    "Time is something I don''t have much of," I pressed.


    "Even so, these arrangements can''t be rushed." Sutton smiled thinly. "Where are you staying? I''ll contact you once I''ve spoken with some colleagues."


    I provided the name of my hotel, trying to read his expression. Something about his too-smooth demeanor made my instincts re in warning.


    "Excellent." He stood, indicating our meeting was over. "I''ll be in touch soon. Very soon."


    As I left his office, Sutton waited until the door closedpletely. Then he reached for his phone, dialing quickly. His expression hardened, all pretense of cordiality vanishing.


    When the call connected, his voice was low and urgent. "Mr. Knightwood, Liam Knight is here."