## Liam''s Perspective


    My blood ran cold at the sight of Emerson Holmes seated at the table. That smug face brought back a flood of bitter memories—my ex-wife''s betrayal, the public humiliation, the years of degradation.


    "Pavilion Master Valerius," Emerson greeted Mariana with exaggerated courtesy,pletely ignoring me. "How gracious of you to join us tonight."


    Mariana''s face revealed nothing. "I believe we''re all here for the same purpose."


    I clenched my fists, struggling to maintainposure. Mariana had set up this meeting without telling me Emerson would be here. Why?


    My attention shifted as the door opened again. An elderly man entered, walking with the confident stride of someone ustomed to power. His white hair was immactely groomed, his expensive clothes perfectly tailored. The air around him seemed to vibrate with suppressed energy.


    Everyone at the table stood respectfully. Even Emerson.


    The old man''s cold eyes locked onto me. "So this is the troublemaker I''ve heard so much about."


    Mariana touched my arm in warning, but I was beyond caution. I recognized this man from descriptions—Darian Bancroft, President of the Veridia City Martial Guild.


    "Where is she?" The words escaped my mouth before I could stop them.


    Darian raised an eyebrow. "I beg your pardon?"


    "Isabelle Ashworth," I said, stepping forward. "Where are you keeping her?"


    The room went deathly quiet. Mariana''s fingers dug into my arm, but I shook her off.


    "Young man," Darian said with manufactured patience, "I don''t know what you''re talking about."


    "Liar." The word hung in the air between us.


    Emerson smirked. "Still the same impulsive fool, Knight. You haven''t changed at all."


    I ignored him, my focus solely on Darian Bancroft. "Your Guild abducted Isabelle Ashworth. You''re using her blood for your twisted experiments."


    Darian''s face hardened. "These are serious allegations to make without proof. Perhaps you''ve been misinformed."


    "I saw yourckeys take her," I said. "I fought Julian Radford two days ago. He confirmed everything."


    A flicker of surprise crossed Darian''s features. "You encountered Julian and lived? Impressive. But it changes nothing."


    My rage bubbled over. Three strides brought me directly in front of him. "Tell me where she is."


    This text was acquired from *.


    "Or what?" Darian''s voice was dangerously soft.


    The other attendees backed away, sensing violence. Only Mariana remained calm, though her eyes betrayed concern.


    "Liam," she warned. "This isn''t the time."


    "When is the time?" I demanded. "While they drain her dry?"


    Darian sighed, as if dealing with a petnt child. "If you''ll excuse me, I have a summit to attend. We can discuss your delusions another time."


    As he turned to leave, something inside me snapped. Three years of being stepped on, of being powerless—no more. I grabbed his shoulder, spinning him around.


    "You''re not going anywhere until you tell me where she is."


    The old man''s eyes widened in disbelief. No one touched him. Ever.


    Before he could respond, my open palm connected with his face in a resounding p that echoed through the room.


    Gasps erupted from everyone present. Even Mariana looked stunned.


    Darian''s cheek reddened from the impact. His calm facade crackled, revealing the fury beneath. The temperature in the room plummeted as his spiritual energy surged.


    "You dare?" he whispered.


    I stood my ground, unflinching. "I dare much more than that. Tell everyone here what you''re really doing. Tell them how you''re draining Isabelle''s blood to create your super soldiers."


    Darian''s eyes narrowed. "Pavilion Master Valerius, control your attack dog before I put him down permanently."


    "Threats?" Iughed. "That''s all you have? Where''s your precious Julian Radford now?"


    For a moment, I thought he might attack. His spiritual energy pressed against me like a physical force.


    Then, surprisingly, he regained hisposure. "You''ve made a grave mistake today, Knight. One you''ll regret deeply."


    "My only regret is not finding Isabelle sooner," I countered.


    Darian straightened his clothes with deliberate slowness. "Enjoy your remaining time, boy. It won''t be long."


    With that, he swept past me toward the inner doors leading to the summit venue. I started to follow, but Mariana finally intervened, stepping between us.


    "Enough, Liam," she said firmly. "You''ve made your point."


    "Have I?" I challenged, not taking my eyes off Darian''s retreating back.


    Once he disappeared through the doors, Mariana pulled me aside. Her voice was low, urgent. "Are you trying to get yourself killed? That''s Darian Bancroft!"


    "I know exactly who he is," I replied coldly. "And I don''t care."


    "You should," she hissed. "He can crush you without breaking a sweat."


    "Let him try."


    Mariana shook her head in frustration. "This isn''t helping Isabelle. We came here to gather information, make potential alliances—not start a war in the anteroom."


    I took a deep breath, trying to regain control. "You could have warned me about Emerson."


    "Would you havee if I had?"


    She had me there. "Probably not."


    "Exactly." Mariana nced toward the summit doors. "We should go in. Despite your... introduction... we still have business here."


    I nodded, reluctantly following her toward the venue. Emerson had already disappeared inside, likely rushing to spread gossip about my confrontation with Darian.


    The summit hall was massive, elegantly decorated with crystal chandeliers and ancient artifacts. At least fifty powerful figures mingled throughout the space, theirbined spiritual energy making the air feel thick and charged.


    "Who are all these people?" I whispered to Mariana.


    "The most influential individuals in Veridia City and beyond," she exined. "Guild masters, family patriarchs, business titans—people who shape our world from the shadows."


    I spotted Darian across the room, already engaged in conversation with a circle of admirers. He seemedpletely unfazed by our confrontation.


    "See the man by the eastern window?" Mariana gestured subtly. "Ignazio Bellweather. They call him the god of the battle zone."


    I studied the imposing figure—tall, broad-shouldered, with a face marked by ancient battle scars. "Is he stronger than Jackson Harding?"


    "Different," Mariana replied thoughtfully. "Jackson is like a surgeon''s scalpel. Ignazio is a sledgehammer."


    We moved deeper into the room. I could feel eyes following me—news of my confrontation with Darian had already spread.


    Ignazio Bellweather noticed our approach and broke away from his conversation. He met us halfway, his massive frame towering over even my six-foot height.


    "Pavilion Master Valerius," he rumbled, voice deep as thunder. "And this must be the young Knight I''ve been hearing about."


    I extended my hand. "Liam Knight."


    His grip was firm but controlled. "Bold move, pping Darian Bancroft. Most men wouldn''t live to brag about it."


    "I''m not most men."


    Ignazio''sughter boomed across the hall. "I can see that! Jackson spoke highly of you. Said you might be the one to shake things up around here."


    That surprised me. "You know Jackson Harding?"


    "We''ve crossed paths. Fought together, fought against each other." Ignazio''s eyes gleamed with memories. "The man''s a legend for good reason."


    "Is he stronger than you?" I asked bluntly.


    Anotherugh. "Direct, aren''t you? It depends on the day and the circumstances. But I wouldn''t bet against him in a fair fight."


    Our conversation was interrupted by a sudden hush that fell over the entire gathering. All eyes turned toward the main entrance.


    A distinguished man had entered. Tall, lean, with piercing eyes and silver-streaked ck hair. He moved with fluid grace, radiating authority without effort. Everyone, including Darian Bancroft, inclined their heads respectfully as he passed.


    "Who is that?" I asked, keeping my voice low.


    Mariana''s expression was grave. "Desmond Davenport. Likely the highest-ranking person you''ve ever encountered."


    I watched as the neer acknowledged the assembled guests with subtle nods. Even from across the room, I could sense his overwhelming power.


    "What''s his position?"


    Mariana''s eyes remained fixed on Davenport. "That''s aplicated question."


    The summit had just be far more interesting—and dangerous.