Mariana''s hands glowed with soft golden light as she channeled healing energy into Isabelle''s frail body. I could feel the spiritual toxins being drawn out—dark, viscous tendrils that had wrapped around her core. Whoever had done this knew exactly what they were doing. This was no random illness but a calcted attack meant to slowly drain her life force.


    "Can you hear me, Isabelle?" I murmured, leaning closer to her pale face.


    Her eyelids fluttered, a weak sign of consciousness. Good. She was responding to my treatment.


    I intensified the flow of energy, pushing my spiritual power deeper into her meridians. The healing was taxing, requiring precise control to avoid damaging her already fragile system. Sweat beaded on my forehead as I worked, methodically clearing one energy pathway after another.


    After what seemed like hours, Isabelle''s breathing finally steadied. The sickly pallor began to fade from her cheeks, reced by a hint of healthy color.


    "Pavilion Master?" Her voice was barely a whisper, but it held recognition.


    "Don''t strain yourself," I warned gently. "The poison has been neutralized, but your body needs time to recover."


    Isabelle''s eyes opened fully now, clear and alert despite her weakness. "How did you know I was ill?"


    I hesitated, weighing how much to reveal. "Let''s just say a mutual friend was concerned about you."


    Her eyes widened immediately. "Liam? You''ve seen him? Is he—" She tried to sit up but winced as pain shot through her body.


    "Easy," I said, easing her back down. "Yes, it was Liam. The protective talisman he made for you shattered when you fell ill."


    Tears welled in Isabelle''s eyes. "He''s alive then. Truly alive."


    I nodded, my expression softening. "More than alive. He''s growing stronger every day."


    "They told me he was dead," she whispered, a single tear sliding down her temple. "Uncle Corbin showed me news reports of the explosion at his apartment. Said they found his remains."


    "Your uncle lied," I replied simply. "Liam survived, though barely."


    Hope bloomed across her face, transforming her features. Even weakened by illness, I could see why she was considered the great beauty of Veridia City.


    "Did he... did he send a message?" she asked hesitantly.


    I nced at the door, extending my spiritual senses to ensure no one was eavesdropping. The Ashworths had agreed to give me privacy, but I didn''t trust Corbin as far as I could throw him—which, admittedly, could be quite far given my cultivation level.


    "He did," I confirmed. "He wanted me to tell you that he''s growing stronger every day. In six months'' time, on September 9th, he''ll return for you. He promises to be powerful enough by then to challenge the Ashworth family and reim what rightfully belongs to you and your father."


    Isabelle''s eyes widened with a mixture of joy and terror. "He can''t! Uncle Corbin would destroy him. The Ashworths have connections everywhere—assassins, mercenaries, even government officials. Liam doesn''t understand what he''s up against."


    "I believe he understands better than you think," I replied. "He''s not the same man who was cast out of Havenwood City."


    She shook her head frantically. "No, you don''t understand. My uncle is ruthless. The moment Liam shows his face, Corbin will—"


    "Will what?" I interrupted gently. "Kill him? He''s already tried that, hasn''t he? Your uncle sent assassins after Liam the moment he learned he survived."


    Isabelle''s face crumpled. "I know," she whispered. "I overheard him giving the order. I''ve been terrified every day, not knowing if Liam was still alive."


    I took her hand, squeezing it reassuringly. "Liam wanted me to tell you something else. He said that no matter how dark things seem, you must remember that you''re not alone. He''s fighting for you every step of the way."


    Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. "I never stopped believing in him, not really. Deep down, I knew he couldn''t be gone."


    She suddenly reached under her pillow, pulling out a small envelope. "If you''re truly in contact with Liam, please give him this. It''s not much, but it might help."


    I epted the envelope, feeling something solid inside—likely a bank card. <i ss="phantom-imprint">T.h+an%k^ you for readi.ng*. T&h^is$ was b&ro*u&ght to you by *%.-</i>


    "I''ve been saving what I could without raising suspicion," she exined. "And there''s a note. Please make sure he gets it."


    "I will," I promised, tucking the envelope into an inner pocket of my robe.


    Isabelle gripped my hand suddenly, her eyes intense despite her weakness. "Tell him to be careful. Tell him that I—" She paused, swallowing hard. "Tell him that I''m waiting, but I want him alive more than anything. The Ashworths aren''t worth his life."


    "I''ll deliver your message," I assured her. "Now rest. Your body needs to recover."


    She rxed back against the pillows, exhaustion quickly overtaking her. Within moments, her breathing deepened as she fell into a healing sleep.


    I remained by her bedside, monitoring her condition and maintaining a protective spiritual barrier around her. The attack she''d suffered was sophisticated—whoever had administered the poison knew exactly what they were doing. This wasn''t some random assassination attempt but a calcted effort to slowly drain her life force without leaving evidence. Likely the work of someone within the Ashworth household itself.


    A soft knock at the door interrupted my thoughts.


    "Enter," I called, keeping my voice low.


    Harrison Ashworth stepped into the room, his worried gaze immediately seeking his granddaughter. Seeing her peaceful sleep and improved color, relief washed over his weathered features.


    "You''ve saved her," he said simply.


    I nodded. "The immediate danger has passed. She''ll need rest and proper care, but she should make a full recovery."


    The old man moved to the bedside, looking down at Isabelle with genuine affection. "Thank you, Pavilion Master. The Ashworth family owes you a debt."


    "I don''t work for debts or favors, Elder Ashworth," I replied. "I do what needs to be done."


    Harrison studied me carefully. "Nevertheless, we''re grateful. May I ask what caused her illness? Dr. Pierce found nothing wrong with her."


    "Your family physiciancks the training to detect spiritual poisoning," I exined. "Someone with considerable skill administered a slow-acting toxin designed to mimic natural illness. Had it continued, her organs would have gradually shut down, leaving no trace of foul y."


    Harrison''s expression darkened. "You''re suggesting assassination? Who would dare target an Ashworth?"


    I met his gaze directly. "That''s a question only your family can answer. But whoever did this had ess to her food, her medicines, perhaps even her personal items."


    The implication hung heavy between us. Someone close to Isabelle—someone within the Ashworth household—had tried to kill her.


    "I''ll investigate this personally," Harrison vowed, his voice hardening. "No one harms my granddaughter and lives."


    I stood, gathering my things. "She''ll need to be monitored for the next few days. I''ve left detailed instructions for her care with her handmaidens."


    "Will you not stay longer?" Harrison asked. "We can provide amodations."


    "My work here is done," I replied. "And I have other matters requiring my attention."


    As I moved toward the door, Harrison spoke again. "Pavilion Master, one more question. How did you know Isabelle was ill? You mentioned a protective talisman, but I know my granddaughter has never visited the Celestial Apothecary Guild."


    I turned, offering a measured smile. "As Pavilion Master, I have my ways of knowing things, Elder Ashworth. Let''s leave it at that."


    Before he could press further, the door burst open and Corbin Ashworth strode in, followed closely by the sinister figure of Roderick ckthorne.


    "How convenient that the great Pavilion Master happened to arrive just in time to save my niece," Corbin sneered. "Almost as if you knew she would fall ill today."


    I faced him calmly. "Your suspicion does you no credit, Corbin Ashworth. Especially when someone in your household attempted to murder your niece under your very nose."


    Corbin''s face contorted with rage. "How dare you make such usations in my home!"


    "Father," Harrison intervened, "the Pavilion Master has saved Isabelle''s life. Show some gratitude."


    "Gratitude?" Corbin scoffed. "For what? For interfering in Ashworth family affairs? For potentially sabotaging Isabelle''s engagement to the ckthorne heir?"


    Roderick stepped forward, his cold eyes assessing me. "My family has invested considerable resources in this alliance," he stated tly. "Any dy could be... problematic."


    "Your son''s bride nearly died today," I pointed out. "I''d think you''d be grateful she''s been saved for him."


    Roderick''s thin lips curled in what might have been a smile. "Of course, Pavilion Master. We''re most appreciative." His tone suggested anything but gratitude.


    I turned my attention back to Harrison. "Elder Ashworth, I''ve done what I came to do. Isabelle will recover fully with proper rest."


    "Thank you again, Pavilion Master," Harrison said formally. "Allow me to escort you out."


    "That won''t be necessary," Corbin interjected sharply. "I''ll see the Pavilion Master off myself."


    Harrison looked ready to argue, but something in his son''s expression made him hesitate. "Very well," he conceded, though clearly ufortable with the arrangement. "I''ll stay with Isabelle."


    I nodded my farewell to Harrison and followed Corbin into the hallway. Roderick ckthorne fell into step beside us, his presence a looming shadow.


    "You''ve overstepped today, Pavilion Master," Corbin said as we walked. "The Celestial Apothecary Guild may hold influence, but here in Veridia City, the Ashworth name reigns supreme."


    "Is that why you''re nning to ambush me?" I asked casually.


    Corbin missed a step, genuine surprise shing across his face before his mask of arrogance returned.


    "I don''t know what you mean," he said smoothly.


    "Come now, Corbin," I replied. "I sensed your men moving into position the moment I arrived. Fourteen Peak Form Grandmasters, if I''m not mistaken, plus numerous armed guards. Quite the weingmittee for a simple healer."


    Roderick shot a concerned nce at Corbin. "Perhaps this isn''t wise," he murmured. "The Guild''s retaliation would be severe."


    "Stay out of this, Roderick," Corbin snapped. "This goes beyond our alliance. This woman knows too much."


    We reached the main courtyard of the Ashworth estate, and I paused, taking in the serene garden with its carefully manicured paths and tranquil pond. Such beauty masking such ugliness beneath.


    "Last chance, Corbin," I offered. "Allow me to leave peacefully, and we can pretend this unfortunatepse in judgment never happened."


    His answer was a sharp gesture to the shadows surrounding the courtyard. Immediately, figures emerged from behind pirs, trees, and decorative screens—martial artists with killing intent radiating from their stances.


    "Pavilion Master Mariana Valerius," Corbin announced formally, "you are charged with conspiracy against the Ashworth family and attempted interference in matters of state. You will be detained for questioning."


    I raised an eyebrow. "Questioning? Is that what you''re calling execution these days?"


    "You tter yourself," Corbin replied coldly. "Though idents do happen during intense interrogations."


    Roderick shifted ufortably. "Corbin, reconsider. Attacking a Pavilion Master—"


    "Will send a message to anyone who dares oppose the Ashworths," Corbin finished for him. "The Guild will protest, of course, but they''ll have no evidence. And without their Pavilion Master, they''ll be in disarray for months."


    I looked around at the encircling forces, seemingly unperturbed. "Fourteen Peak Form Grandmasters, as I thought. Plus..." I paused, extending my spiritual senses. "Twenty-seven armed guards with spiritual weapons. You certainly didn''t hold back."


    Corbin smiled coldly. "I never do."


    At his signal, the hidden gunmen emerged, forming a line and pointing their weapons directly at me. The collective aura of the Grandmasters erupted around us, creating a crushing pressure intended to immobilize their target.


    "Your move, Pavilion Master," Corbin said, triumph gleaming in his eyes. "Though I suggest you don''t make one at all."