I stared at the ceiling of the ancient chamber, tracing the intricate patterns with my eyes while The Man with the Mustache busied himself with preparations. The Immortal Bane Sect loomed around us, its atmosphere heavy with forgotten power. After weeks of imprisonment, I now faced a different kind of confinement—waiting.


    "Are you almost done?" I asked, not bothering to hide my impatience.


    "Greatness cannot be rushed, Liam," he replied, carefully drawing symbols on the floor with a luminous powder. "These protective formations will keep us from bing permanent residents of this delightful death trap."


    I sat up, examining the crimson sword resting beside me. Despite his dismissal of my creation, it felt right in my hand—an extension of my will forged through necessity. The de pulsed with a faint red glow, as if alive.


    "What exactly are we looking for in here?" I asked.


    His mustache twitched with excitement. "The Immortal Bane Sect wasn''t just a cultivation sect, my boy. It was a repository of power! Artifacts, techniques, formations—all forbidden because they were too potent for the outside world to handle."


    The thought was both tempting and terrifying. "And you think you can control such power?"


    "Me? Perhaps not." He grinned, continuing his meticulous work. "But you might."


    I frowned. "What do you mean?"


    "Your constitution is... unique. I''ve seen how you absorb energies others cannot touch." He paused, giving me a knowing look. "The Chaotic Body is rare, Liam. Perhaps one in a billion cultivators manifests it."


    "How do you know about that?" I demanded, suddenly alert.


    He chuckled. "I make it my business to know things others don''t. It''s kept me alive this long."


    His words hung between us as he returned to his work. I couldn''t help wondering what else he knew about me that I didn''t.


    Meanwhile, a world away, my absence was creating ripples I couldn''t see.


    ---


    At Jade Moon Vi, Eamon Greene stood before the ornate gates, a small pack slung over his shoulder. The once-proud headquarters looked different now—the guards more rigid, the atmosphere colder.


    He nced back at the courtyard, his gaze lingering on the stone statue of me that had been erected after news of my "death" spread. A memorial that felt wrong in every way.


    Phoebe Reeves approached, her eyes red-rimmed. "You''re really leaving?"


    "I can''t stay," Eamon replied, his voice firm despite his evident pain. "This isn''t Liam''s vi anymore. It''s be something else."


    "Tobias says we need to adapt to survive."


    "Tobias says a lot of things," Eamon muttered. "But I didn''t pledge myself to Tobias Bhus. I pledged myself to Liam Knight."


    As if summoned by his name, Tobias emerged from the main hall, nked by two new guards—men who had never known me.


    "Abandoning ship, Greene?" Tobias called out, his voice carrying a mocking edge. "I expected better from Liam''s right-hand man."


    Eamon''s jaw tightened. "If Liam were here—" <cite ss="phantom-imprint">Pub.li.cat$i&o^n+ c+o*urte!s&y^ of *.&</cite>


    "But he isn''t," Tobias interrupted sharply. "And he won''t being back. The sooner everyone epts that reality, the sooner we can move forward."


    He strode past the statue of me, deliberately avoiding its gaze. "The Veridia City Martial Guild grows stronger every day. They''re promoting new Military Marquises left and right. Without Liam''s protection, we need new alliances, new strategies."


    "New leadership?" Eamon suggested coldly.


    Tobias smiled thinly. "Phoebe remains our leader in name. I''m merely guiding our path."


    Eamon looked to Phoebe, searching for the fierce woman who had once challenged me at every turn. Instead, he found a shadow—grief and fear had hollowed her out, leaving her vulnerable to Tobias''s influence.


    "I''ll return if Liam does," Eamon said finally, turning away. "Until then, I have my own path to follow."


    As he walked through the gates, he didn''t look back at the vi that had once represented everything he believed in. Whatever came next, he would face it on his own terms.


    ---


    In the luxurious chambers of the Veridia City Martial Guild, Dominic Ashworth knelt before the Guild Master, epting the ceremonial token that marked his new rank.


    "Rise, Military Marquis Ashworth," the Guild Master intoned.


    Dominic stood, unable to contain his smile. "I am honored, Master."


    "Your progress has been exceptional," the older man noted. "Especially since the Knight incident."


    Dominic''s expression darkened momentarily. "Liam Knight''s interference cost my family greatly. His death has allowed us to reim our rightful position."


    "Indeed. The troublemaker''s demise has brought wee stability." The Guild Master gestured to the window, where the city sprawled below. "With Knight gone, we can finally implement the reforms this city needs."


    "And my cousin?" Dominic asked carefully.


    The Guild Master''s eyes narrowed. "Isabelle Ashworth remains a priority. Her bloodline is too valuable to waste. We will find her."


    Dominic nodded, satisfaction evident in his posture. With me gone, everything was falling back into its proper ce—the natural order restored, with the Ashworth family ascendant once more.


    ---


    At the Celestial Apothecary Guild, Mariana Valerius stood on the balcony of her private chambers, gazing at the distant mountains. Jackson Harding joined her, his imposing figure softened by concern.


    "Any word?" she asked without turning.


    Jackson shook his head. "Nothing concrete. But absence of evidence isn''t evidence of absence."


    "It''s been a month," Mariana said softly. "Most have epted the obvious conclusion."


    "Most don''t know him like we do." Jackson leaned against the railing. "Liam Knight doesn''t die easily."


    Mariana smiled faintly. "No, he certainly doesn''t."


    "Have you noticed?" Jackson asked, changing the subject. "The Martial Guild is moving quickly, consolidating power. They believe their greatest threat is gone."


    "And Duane Taylor has vanished as well," Mariana noted. "Too convenient to be coincidence."


    Jackson nodded thoughtfully. "The timing suggests Liam''s disappearance was calcted, not idental."


    "A strategic retreat?" Mariana raised an eyebrow.


    "Or preparation for something bigger." Jackson''s eyes gleamed with possibility. "Either way, I wouldn''t count him out yet."


    Mariana turned back to the mountains, her expression resolute. "Then we''ll continue as nned. The Celestial Apothecary Guild stands ready for his return."


    ---


    Back in the depths of the Immortal Bane Sect, I was unaware of the changes my absence had wrought. My focus remained on survival and escape.


    "The outside world thinks I''m dead," I mused aloud.


    The Man with the Mustache looked up from his work. "Indeed! Quite the funeral they held for you—speeches, tears, the whole spectacle! Of course, your enemies celebrated privately."


    The thought of Isabelle believing I was dead twisted like a knife in my chest. "I need to get back."


    "All in good time," he replied dismissively. "First, we have treasures to find! Immortal legacies to uncover! Powers to seize!"


    I watched him work, his fingers manipting spiritual energy with surprising skill. For all his entricity, there was no denying his expertise in certain areas.


    "Why are you really here?" I asked suddenly. "The truth."


    He paused, looking genuinely surprised by the question. "For treasure, of course! What other reason could there be?"


    "You could have entered this ce anytime. Why now? Why risking to a ce that trapped me?"


    His expression became uncharacteristically serious. "Because the world is changing, Liam Knight. The bnce of power is shifting. And when such shifts ur, a wise man secures advantages where he can."


    Before I could press further, he stood abruptly, wiping sweat from his brow.


    "There!" he announced proudly, gesturing to theplex array of symbols surrounding us. "Protection against the sect''s nastier surprises. Death traps, soul-binding curses, flesh-melting arrays—all the standard unpleasantries one finds in ancient death traps."


    I rose to my feet, picking up my crimson sword. "So what now?"


    His eyes gleamed with excitement as he pointed toward a dark corridor I hadn''t explored.


    "We can set off now!" he eximed, already moving toward the unknown depths.


    I hesitated for only a moment before following him into the darkness. Whatevery ahead—whatever treasures or dangers awaited—at least I was no longer facing them alone.