Liam''s Perspective


    "Son of the Shadow King?" I repeated, the words hanging in the air like a death sentence.


    Braydon Yates stood in his opulent penthouse, watching me with a mixture of awe and fear. The three Grandmasters positioned themselves strategically around the room, their hands never far from their weapons.


    "Please, sit," Yates gestured to the plush chairs surrounding an ornate tea table.


    Alistair looked at me nervously as we took our seats. The poor guy had only wanted a business meeting, and now he was caught in whatever this was.


    "You said you knew me," I kept my voice level. "Exin."


    Yates snapped his fingers. A servant materialized, setting down an borate tea set before disappearing just as quickly.


    "Not you specifically," he said, pouring tea with practiced precision. "But I knew your father."


    My heart skipped a beat. The jade pendant seemed to pulse against my skin.


    "My father?" The words came out rougher than I intended.


    "The Shadow King was... a legend." Yates handed me a cup with slightly trembling hands. "Few knew his true face. Fewer still would dare speak his name."


    Alistair shifted ufortably beside me. "Who exactly was the Shadow King?"


    Yates shot him a sharp look. "A man who could destroy mountains with a gesture. A man who walked through walls of fire unharmed. A man who—"


    "Cut the mystical bullshit," I interrupted. "Give me facts, not legends."


    Yates flinched at my tone but nodded. "Of course. Your father was the leader of an organization called the Shadow Court. They operated beyond the reach of even the Martial Guild''s authority."


    "And you recognized me because...?" I pressed.


    "Your eyes," he whispered. "They''re his eyes. And when you became angry just now... the energy signature. Unmistakable."


    I took a sip of tea, buying time to process this information. "You still haven''t exined why you''re so afraid."


    "Because the Shadow Court was systematically eliminated twenty-five years ago," Yates said, his voice dropping. "Your father was betrayed. Everyone assumed his bloodline ended that night."


    The pieces clicked together. "And if I''m alive..."


    "Then someone failed in their mission," Yates confirmed. "Someone very powerful who would stop at nothing to finish what they started."


    Alistair cleared his throat. "Mr. Yates, why did you treat your nephew so harshly?"


    A dark expression crossed Yates'' face. "Alister Vega is my sister''s son. He''s always been... problematic. I''ve protected him from consequences for too long."


    I set down my cup with a sharp click. "Like the consequences for what he''s doing in your basement?"


    Yates'' head snapped up. "What?"


    "Let''s stop dancing around," I leaned forward. "On my way here, I sensed cultivation chambers below this building. Filled with people in pain."


    The three Grandmasters tensed, hands moving to their weapons.


    Yates waved them down. "It''s just business. We harvest energy from suitable candidates. The strong survive and be our disciples. The weak... serve a different purpose."


    "Human trafficking disguised as martial recruitment," I stated tly. "How many have you killed?"


    "They would have died anyway," Yates shrugged, his earlier respect fading as he defended his operation. "The weak are meant to serve the strong. That''s the natural order."


    The Heavenly Devouring Skill stirred inside me, responding to my rising anger. I took a deep breath, fighting to maintain control.


    "Release them," I said. "All of them. Now."


    Yates'' expression hardened. "I was willing to show respect to the Shadow King''s son, but don''t mistake courtesy for weakness. This is my territory."


    "And this is yourst warning," I countered.


    Tension crackled between us. The three Grandmasters had moved into attack positions. Alistair looked ready to dive under the table.


    Yates broke the silence with a harshugh. "You may have your father''s eyes, but clearly none of his wisdom. Look around you. Three Grandmasters plus myself. You''re powerful, but not that powerful."


    I didn''t bother arguing. Instead, I unleashed the full force of the Heavenly Devouring Skill.


    Energy exploded from my body in a wave of golden light. The windows shattered outward. The three Grandmasters mmed against the walls like ragdolls, pinned by invisible pressure.


    Yates managed to remain standing, but just barely. His face contorted with effort as he tried to resist the crushing force.


    "How—" he choked out.


    I stood calmly, the golden energy swirling around me like a living thing. "I''ll say it one more time. Release them all."


    "They''re... just street trash," Yates gasped, still defiant despite the pressure crushing his chest. "Nobodies."


    Wrong answer. I closed the distance between us in a sh, my hand shooting out to grasp his throat.


    "Like I was?" I whispered.


    Fear bloomed in his eyes as understanding dawned. I''d been one of those "nobodies" once. A nameless orphan. Disposable.


    Not anymore.


    I mmed him to the floor, the marble cracking beneath the impact. "Every person in those chambers has a name. A story. Dreams. They are not resources for you to harvest."


    "Please," Yates wheezed. "I''ll release them."


    "Andpensate them," I added, tightening my grip. "For their suffering."


    "Impossible," he croaked. "The cost—"


    I channeled more energy into my grip. The floor beneath us cracked further as Yates'' body pressed deeper into the marble.


    "Fine! Yes!" he screamed. "Compensation! Anything!"


    I released him and stepped back. The golden energy receded, allowing the Grandmasters to copse to the floor, gasping for breath.


    Alistair stared at me, wide-eyed. He''d seen me fight before, but never like this.


    "Liam," he breathed. "That was..."


    "Necessary," I finished for him, my voice steady.


    Yates struggled to his knees, blood trickling from his nose and ears. "Who... what are you?"


    "Someone who was given a second chance," I said simply. "Now I''m passing that chance along."


    I turned to one of the recovering Grandmasters. "Take me to the chambers. Now."


    He looked to Yates, who nodded weakly. "Do what he says."


    As we left the penthouse, Alistair fell into step beside me. "That was incredible," he whispered. "But also terrifying."


    I gave him a grim smile. "Sometimes terror is the onlynguage men like Yates understand."


    The basement facility was worse than I''d imagined. Dozens of people trapped in cultivation chambers, their energy being systematically drained. Some looked barely alive.


    "Open them," I ordered. "All of them."


    The next hour passed in a blur of broken locks, medical attention, and tearful thanks from the prisoners. Many had been missing for months. Some for years.


    When we returned to the penthouse, Yates hadposed himself somewhat. The three Grandmasters stood at attention, bruised but alert.


    "It''s done," Yates said stiffly. "They''ve been released and givenpensation."


    "Good," I nodded. "Now, tell me everything you know about my father."


    Yates'' eyes narrowed. "Information is valuable. What do I get in return?"


    "Your life," I said simply.


    He swallowed hard. "Fair enough."


    For the next half hour, Yates shared what he knew about the Shadow King – a powerful figure who had operated in the shadows of the martial world, neither good nor evil but following his own code. He had enemies everywhere, especially within the Martial Guild''s inner circle.


    "And my mother?" I asked when he finished.


    Yates shook his head. "I never knew her identity. Few did."


    I absorbed this information in silence. Finally, I stood. "If I discover you''ve resumed your operation, I''ll be back. And I won''t be as merciful."


    "Understood," Yates said, his voice barely audible.


    Alistair and I left without further ceremony. In the elevator down, he finally spoke.


    "That was... not what I expected when I asked for your help with a business meeting."


    I couldn''t help butugh. "Sorry about that."


    "Don''t be," he said earnestly. "What you did today... those people would have died without you."


    "Maybe," I shrugged. "Or maybe someone else would have saved them."


    Alistair shook his head. "No. It had to be you." <q ss="frag-5d8ab0">Publication<i ss="node-sep"></i>courtesy<i ss="node-sep"></i>of<i ss="node-sep"></i>*.</q>


    We walked inpanionable silence through the hotel lobby. Outside, the afternoon sun felt good on my face after the darkness of the cultivation chambers.


    "So," Alistair ventured. "Son of the Shadow King, huh?"


    "Apparently," I sighed. "Just one moreplication."


    "What will you do now?" he asked.


    "Continue as nned," I said. "I need to get to Unchon. There''s something there I need to find before facing the Ashworths."


    Alistair nodded thoughtfully. "You know, mypany has offices in Unchon. I could help."


    I turned to look at him, surprised by the offer. "Why would you risk getting more involved?"


    "Because you helped me," he said simply. "And because what you stand for... it''s worth supporting."


    I sped his shoulder, genuinely touched. "Thank you, Alistair."


    As we parted ways, I checked my phone. More articles on The Warrior''s Scroll, all specting about my "secret technique" and "mysterious background." Someone was clearly stoking public interest in me.


    Fine. Let them talk. Let them specte. Soon enough, they''d learn the truth.


    I headed back to my hotel to prepare for Unchon. If today was any indication, the path forward would be even more dangerous than I''d anticipated.


    ---


    In a dimly lit chamber in Veridia City, five figures sat around a polished table, their faces obscured by shadows.


    "The Knight boy is bing problematic," said the first, his voice gravelly with age.


    "He destroyed one of Yates'' operations today," added the second. "Released all the subjects."


    The third figure tapped long fingernails against the table. "More concerning is what Yates called him. Son of the Shadow King? If true..."


    "It changes nothing," interrupted the fourth, his voice sharp as steel. "He''s still just one man."


    "One man who defeated three Grandmasters without breaking a sweat," countered the fifth. "One man who may have inherited powers we thought were safely buried."


    Silence fell as they considered the implications.


    "The Ashworths will deal with him," the first figure finally dered. "Between them and the ckthornes, they have enough resources to eliminate this threat."


    "And if they fail?" asked the third.


    A cold smile spread across the first figure''s face. "Then we''ll show him what real power looks like."


    ---


    In Unchon, far from the politics of Veridia City, Colt Knightwood lounged in his study, a ss of expensive whiskey in hand.


    "So this Liam Knight is causing quite a stir," he mused, ncing at thetest edition of The Warrior''s Scroll.


    His son, Armand, nodded. "They say he''s already at the peak of Martial Artist."


    Colt scoffed. "Exaggeration. These tabloids love to create legends out of nobodies."


    "Dad, I heard that Liam Knight seems to being to Unchon," Armand said suddenly.


    Colt''s ss paused halfway to his lips. "Here? What business could he possibly have in our city?"


    Armand leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "They say he''s looking for something. Something powerful."


    Colt set down his ss, his expression hardening. "Then perhaps we should find it first."