## Liam''s Perspective


    Six Martial Marquis surrounding me. Each powerful enough to level a small town. To normal cultivators, this would be a death sentence.


    But I wasn''t normal. Not anymore.


    "Attack!" one of them barked.


    They moved in perfect synchronization, closing in from all sides. Their auras red like supernovas, crushing the air around me. The pressure would have forced an ordinary Marquis to their knees.


    I felt nothing but cold rage.


    "Where is Isabelle?" I roared, channeling my energy into my fists.


    Without waiting for their answer, I unleashed my Absolute Beginning Sacred Fist. Golden light erupted from my body, creating a shockwave that rippled through the courtyard. The technique wasn''t meant to be used in such a wide area, but I didn''t care about coteral damage.


    The st caught all six Marquis mid-stride. Their coordinated attack disintegrated as they were thrown back, faces twisted in shock.


    "Impossible!" gasped the eldest Marquis, an old man with a long white beard. "No one can counterattack six Marquis simultaneously!"


    Emerson Holmes'' face darkened. "What are you waiting for? He''s just one man! The Guild''s honor is at stake!"


    The white-bearded Marquis charged forward again, his palm wreathed in swirling blue energy. "Dragon Fang Palm!"


    I didn''t dodge. I didn''t block. I abandoned all defense and met his attack head-on.


    My fist connected with his palm technique. For a split second, our energies shed, golden against blue. Then his technique shattered like ss.


    My punch continued through, striking his chest with the force of a meteor. Blood sprayed from his mouth as his ribcage copsed. His eyes widened in disbelief before the light faded from them forever.


    The courtyard fell silent. A Martial Marquis—dead with a single punch.


    The remaining five backed away, terror evident in their eyes.


    "Run!" one of them shouted. They scattered like frightened rabbits.


    "Cowards!" Holmes screamed, but they ignored him.


    I wasn''t letting them escape. With a thought, I activated Heavy Falling Space, my domain-level technique. The air thickened to the consistency of msses. Four of the fleeing Marquis slowed dramatically, struggling against the invisible weight.


    But the fifth—a woman with a jade hairpin—pulled out a small, glowing artifact. It pulsed once, and she broke through my domain, disappearing into the distance.


    I didn''t pursue her. Four out of five was good enough.


    The trapped Marquis fought against my domain, but their movements were sluggish, predictable. I walked toward them casually, like a predator approaching cornered prey.


    "Please," one begged. "We were just following orders."


    I ignored his pleas. With methodical precision, I disabled each one—breaking limbs, rupturing meridians, ensuring they wouldn''t interfere. I left them alive but incapacitated. They might have information I needed.


    Only Holmes remained now, his earlier confidence evaporated. He backed away slowly, eyes darting for an escape route.


    I was on him before he could blink. My hand closed around his throat, lifting him off the ground.


    "Where is she?" I demanded, squeezing just enough to restrict his breathing without cutting it off entirely.


    "I don''t know what you''re talking about," he wheezed.


    I mmed him against the wall hard enough to crack the stone. "Wrong answer."


    Holmes coughed, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. "You''re making a terrible mistake. The Guild is bigger than you can imagine. More powerful than—"


    I cut him off by dropping him to the ground and stomping on his kneecap. The bone shattered with a sickening crunch. His scream echoed across the courtyard.


    "I''m not interested in your threats," I said coldly. "I want Isabelle Ashworth. Now."


    Holmes writhed on the ground, clutching his shattered knee. The Guild President, reduced to a whimpering mess. How quickly the mighty fall.


    "The... the underground levels," he gasped between agonized breaths. "Special containment area."


    "Take me there," I ordered.


    "I can''t walk, you broke my—"


    I hauled him up by his cor. "Then I''ll drag you there."


    The remaining Guild members watched in horror as I forced their President to hobble through the main building, leaning heavily on my shoulder. None dared to intervene. The bodies of six defeated Marquis—one dead, four crippled—were message enough.


    Holmes led me through a maze of corridors, down several flights of stairs. With each step deeper into the Guild, my sense of foreboding grew. This ce was a fortress, designed to keep people in rather than out.


    "Through here," Holmes mumbled, gesturing to an unassuming door at the end of a hallway.


    I shoved him forward. "Open it."


    Holmes fumbled with a key card, swiping it across a panel beside the door. It slid open with a pneumatic hiss, revealing a long, dimly lit corridor lined with metal doors.


    "The containment cells are at the end," he said, his voice strained with pain. "But I should warn you—"


    "Save your warnings," I cut him off. "Just take me to her."


    Holmes limped forward, looking increasingly ufortable. "You don''t understand. This area is heavily protected. There are—"


    "I don''t care what defenses you have," I snapped. "Nothing will stop me from finding her."


    A bitter smile crept onto Holmes'' face despite his pain. "We''ll see about that."


    His sudden confidence was troubling. I scanned our surroundings more carefully, extending my divine sense. The walls seemed ordinary enough, but there was something off about the energy signatures. Faint traces of powerful formations lurked just beneath the surface. <dfn ss="story-note-vis">Hеlp us оut by rеаding оn М|V|LЕМ5РYR.</dfn>


    "What exactly are you hiding down here?" I demanded.


    "Nothing that concerns you," Holmes replied, his smile widening slightly. "Yet."


    We continued deeper into theplex, passing through several more security checkpoints. Each door required Holmes'' authentication, and with each one, the energy signatures around us grew stronger, more ominous.


    The air became cooler, heavier. The lighting dimmed further until we were walking in near darkness, illuminated only by asional strips of pale blue light along the floor.


    "Just a bit further," Holmes said, his voice echoing strangely in the confined space.


    I kept a firm grip on his shoulder, ready to end him at the first sign of treachery. But so far, he seemed to be cooperating—too readily.


    "Why bring prisoners so deep underground?" I asked.


    Holmes chuckled weakly. "Some things are better kept far from prying eyes."


    "Like harvesting a woman''s blood against her will?" I growled.


    He didn''t respond to that, but his silence was answer enough.


    We reached a massive door made of what appeared to be solid metal, inscribed with intricate runes that pulsed with faint energy.


    "This is the entrance to the high-security wing," Holmes exined. "Only Guild leaders have ess."


    "Open it," I ordered.


    Holmes hesitated. "Once we''re inside... I can''t guarantee your safety."


    "I didn''t ask for guarantees," I said coldly. "I asked for the door to be opened."


    With a resigned sigh, Holmes pressed his palm against a panel beside the door. The runes red briefly, and then the massive door began to slide open with a deep, resonant hum.


    Beyondy a cavernous chamber lined with cells—not the crude holding pens I expected, but sophisticated containment units with transparent barriers. Most were empty, but several held shadowy figures.


    And throughout the chamber, I sensed dozens of active formations—defensive arrays, suppression fields, and what felt like lethal counter-measures.


    Holmes turned to me, his eyes glinting with malice despite his injured state. "The prison is filled with magical artifacts. If you dare to enter, you will undoubtedly die!"