I watched the scene unfold before me, bound and seemingly powerless yet strategically positioned on the Sect Leader''s throne. The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a de as Frederick Cohen faced off against Dominic Ashworth.


    "What did you say to me?" Dominic''s face contorted with rage, his hand tightening around his weapon.


    Frederick stepped closer, his stance fearless despite facing one of Veridia City''s elite. "You heard me. Only cowards attack bound men and call it victory."


    Dominic lunged forward with surprising speed, his fist connecting with Frederick''s jaw. The impact sent Frederick stumbling back, but he quickly regained his footing, a dangerous smile spreading across his face as he wiped blood from his lip.


    "Is that the best the great Ashworth family can do?" Frederick taunted, dropping into a fighting stance.


    Before Dominic could retaliate, Julian Radford stepped between them. "Enough!" His voice echoed through the ancient hall with unmistakable authority. "Have you forgotten where we are? The Immortal Bane Sect is filled with deadly traps. Your petty squabble could trigger something that kills us all."


    Frederick spat blood onto the stone floor. "Better to die fighting than be ughtered like sheepter."


    I remained silent, calcting my options. The spirit bindings around my wrists burned like fire, but I couldn''t let them see my difort. Every second they argued was a second I could use to formte an escape n.


    Julian''s gaze flickered toward me, then back to the two men. "We have more pressing matters than your wounded pride, Dominic. Stand down."


    Reluctantly, Dominic stepped back, but his eyes promised retribution. The other martial artists shifted ufortably, the revtion of Julian''s nned betrayal clearly weighing on their minds.


    From the shadows at the entrance, another figure emerged. Dudley Lowell, his thin face twisted in a perpetual sneer. "Trouble in paradise?" he asked, his voice dripping with mockery.


    "Perfect timing," Julian said smoothly, his demeanor changing instantly. "Dudley, please escort our unaffiliated friends back to the entrance. We need to have a... private discussion with Mr. Knight." <mark ss="in-imprint-a">Help us out by reading on *.</mark>


    I noticed Frederick''s eyes narrow at Julian''s words. He wasn''t fooled.


    "You mean dispose of them," Frederick said loudly, turning to address the gathered martial artists. "Don''t you see? Julian never intended for any of you to leave this ce alive. You''re not allies – you''re cannon fodder."


    The group erupted into murmurs, fear and anger mingling in equal measure. Julian''s face remained impassive, but I could see the calction in his eyes.


    "That''s absurd," Julian said calmly. "Frederick clearly bears some grudge and is attempting to sow discord among us when unity is paramount."


    Dudley stepped forward, his thin lips curled in a smile that never reached his eyes. "Why would we waste valuable assets? Every cultivator here serves a purpose in our exploration."


    Frederickughed bitterly. "Listen to them – ''assets,'' ''serves a purpose.'' Is that how you see yourselves? Tools to be used and discarded?"


    The unaffiliated martial artists exchanged nervous nces. I could see uncertainty written on their faces.


    "Don''t be fooled by Cohen''s theatrics," Dominic interjected. "The Ashworth family has always treated its allies with respect."


    "Really?" Frederick challenged. "Then why did I overhear Julian ordering Dudley to eliminate everyone not affiliated with Veridia City once we reached the inner sanctum? Why risk sharing power when you can im it all?"


    The usation hung heavy in the air. I watched closely, gauging reactions. Some looked doubtful, others frightened. Julian''s face remained a mask of calm.


    "My friends," Julian addressed the group, his voice taking on a reasonable, almost paternal tone. "We''re in a dangerous ce, surrounded by ancient powers we barely understand. Frederick''s paranoia is understandable but misced. You have my word – the Veridia City Martial Guild protects its own."


    I almost admired his skillful maniption. Several of the martial artists visibly rxed at his reassurance.


    "His word," Frederick spat. "The word of a man who hunted Liam Knight like an animal, who orchestrated the kidnapping of Isabelle Ashworth for her bloodline, who has broken every code the Guild ims to uphold."


    At the mention of Isabelle, I felt white-hot rage surge through me, straining against my bindings. Julian''s eyes flicked toward me, registering my reaction.


    "You speak of things you don''t understand, Frederick," Julian said coldly. "And your loyalty to Knight is misced. He''s an enemy of Veridia City."


    Frederick turned to the group again, desperation in his voice. "Look at yourselves! Are you really going to stand with these vultures? When Knight was in power, did he ever treat any of you with the contempt these men show?"


    The martial artists shifted ufortably, but no one moved to stand with Frederick. Self-preservation was winning over principle.


    "I fought Knight," Frederick continued, "challenged him repeatedly. But even I can admit he never stooped to the level of these bastards. He faced his enemies head-on, not with backstabbing and deceit."


    I was genuinely surprised by Frederick''s defense. We''d never been friends – quite the opposite. Yet here he was, risking everything to stand against Julian''s treachery.


    Julian sighed theatrically. "I''ve been patient, Frederick, but this has gone on long enough." He nodded to Dudley. "Deal with him."


    Dudley''s smile widened as he stepped toward Frederick. "With pleasure."


    Frederick looked around at the other martial artists, a final plea in his eyes. "Stand with me! Together we might have a chance!"


    Not a single person moved. Their faces were masks of fear and resignation.


    "Cowards," Frederick muttered, before dropping into a fighting stance. "Fine. I''ll die on my feet."


    Dudleyughed. "You''ll die screaming."


    They circled each other slowly. I strained against my bindings, desperate to break free. Frederick was no match for Dudley, and we both knew it.


    Frederick struck first, a lightning-fast jab that Dudley barely managed to dodge. His second punch caught Dudley on the shoulder, making him stagger slightly.


    "Not bad," Dudley admitted, rubbing his shoulder. "But futile."


    Dudley counterattacked with frightening speed, his fist connecting with Frederick''s chest with a sickening crack. Frederick gasped, the air driven from his lungs, but managed to stay upright.


    "Is that all?" Frederick taunted through gritted teeth.


    I could see blood beginning to seep through his robes. Broken ribs, at minimum.


    The fight continued, Fredericknding asional blows but taking far more damage than he inflicted. His movements grew slower, more desperate, while Dudley barely showed signs of exertion.


    Then, unexpectedly, Frederick managed to slip past Dudley''s guard,nding a solid punch to his jaw that sent the man reeling backward.


    Julian frowned, his patience clearly wearing thin. As Frederick pressed his momentary advantage, Julian made a subtle gesture with his hand.


    Suddenly, Frederick froze mid-attack, his eyes wide with confusion and pain. I recognized what had happened immediately – a mental attack. Julian had struck from a distance, using a technique few could defend against.


    Dudley recovered quickly, seizing the opportunity. His fist mmed into Frederick''s unprotected stomach, followed by a vicious uppercut that lifted Frederick off his feet.


    Frederick crashed to the ground, blood spraying from his mouth. He tried to rise but copsed again, his body trembling with the effort.


    "Stay down," I whispered, though I knew he couldn''t hear me.


    But Frederick Cohen had never been one to heed good advice. With a herculean effort, he pushed himself up to one knee, blood streaming down his face.


    "That the best you got?" he rasped, ring at Dudley.


    Dudley looked to Julian, who nodded slightly.


    "Not even close," Dudley replied, delivering a brutal kick to Frederick''s ribs.


    I heard bones crack as Frederick rolled across the floor, leaving a smear of blood on the ancient stones. He came to rest just a few feet from my throne, his breathing ragged and wet.


    "You know," Frederick said, looking up at Julian with defiant eyes, "I always thought Knight was exaggerating about how corrupt you all were." He coughed, blood bubbling between his lips. "Turns out, he was being kind."


    Julian stepped closer, looking down at Frederick with cold contempt. "Your loyalty to a dead cause is admirable but foolish. Knight failed. His rebellion is over."


    Frederickughed, a horrible, gurgling sound. "Is it? Because he''s sitting right there, watching you all." He tilted his head toward me. "And if I know anything about Liam Knight, it''s that he doesn''t forget his enemies."


    With a surge of desperate strength, Frederick suddenly lunged upward, a hidden de shing in his hand. Before anyone could react, he buried it in Julian''s thigh.


    Julian howled in pain and rage, staggering backward. "Kill him!" he shouted to Dudley. "Slowly!"


    Dudley grabbed Frederick by the throat, lifting him off the ground. Frederick''s feet dangled uselessly as he wed at Dudley''s iron grip.


    "Anyst words, Frederick Cohen?" Dudley asked, tightening his hold.


    Frederick''s eyes met mine, and I saw no fear in them – only grim satisfaction. "Remember this, Knight," he wheezed. "Some of us... still believed... in you."


    Dudley mmed Frederick against a pir with bone-crushing force. Frederick''s body went limp, blood pouring from his mouth and nose. When Dudley released him, he crumpled to the floor like a discarded puppet.


    I strained against my bindings until my wrists bled, desperate to intervene, but they held firm. All I could do was watch as Frederick Cohen, who had once been my rival and now died as something close to a friend,y broken on the cold stone floor.


    Julian limped over, his face contorted with rage. "Is he dead?"


    "Nearly," Dudley replied, nudging Frederick''s body with his foot.


    Frederick''s eyes fluttered open, barely conscious. "They''ll... kill you all... just like... me," he managed to whisper.


    Julian''s expression hardened. "Finish it," he ordered Dudley.


    Dudley smiled cruelly, drawing his sword. "dly."


    Before he could strike, Frederick''s eyes found mine onest time. "Don''t... let them... win," he mouthed silently.


    I gave him the slightest nod, a promise I intended to keep with every fiber of my being.


    Satisfied, Dudley turned from Frederick''s broken body and faced the terrified group of unaffiliated martial artists who had refused to stand with him. His thin lips curved into a sinister smile.


    "Frederick Cohen is right," Dudley announced, his de still dripping with Frederick''s blood. "After they kill him and Liam Knight, you''ll be leaderless..." He took a step toward them, his intent unmistakable. "So let''s turn you into ghosts in my hands."