I needed to be strategic about my next move. The Veridia City Martial Guild would respond swiftly to Tobias''s death. My return was no longer a rumor—it was a confirmed threat they couldn''t ignore.


    Before leaving Jade Moon Vi, I pulled Phoebe aside. Her injuries had been treated, but her eyes still held shadows of the suffering she''d endured.


    "I can''t stay," I told her quietly. "The Guild will target this ce once word spreads."


    She nodded, disappointment visible but understanding in her expression. "Where will you go?"


    "Veridia City. It''s time I took the fight to them."


    Phoebe''s eyes widened. "That''s suicide. They''ll have every entrance watched, every street patrolled."


    I smiled grimly. "Good. Let them waste resources looking for me at checkpoints while I slip through their defenses."


    "What''s your n?"


    I considered how much to reveal. Phoebe had proven her loyalty, but knowledge could be dangerous.


    "I''m hunting someone. Emerson Holmes."


    Recognition shed across her face. "The Guild Alchemist? The one who..."


    "The one who''s experimenting on Isabelle," I finished, my voice hardening. "Yes."


    Phoebe hesitated. "Master Liam, there''s something you should know. Since your confrontation with the Guild, they''ve escted their security. Rumors say President Bancroft has activated resources they normally reserve for national threats."


    "What kind of resources?"


    "Purple robes," she whispered.


    My blood ran cold. Purple-robed warriors were the Guild''s elite enforcers—martial artists whose powers approached mythical levels. They operated in shadows, answering only to the Guild President himself.


    "One in particr," Phoebe continued. "Nigel Reyes. He''s been spotted in the city recently."


    The name meant nothing to me, but the implication was clear. The Guild was treating me as a serious threat, worthy of their most dangerous assets.


    "Be careful," I warned her. "Dismantle anything that connects this ce to me. If questioned, say I threatened everyone into submission and left."


    Phoebe shook her head firmly. "No. We stand with you."


    "You can''t help me if you''re dead," I replied bluntly. "Survive. Rebuild in secret. That''s how you serve our cause."


    Reluctantly, she agreed. I left instructions for emergency protocols, then slipped away before dawn, a hooded figure vanishing into the mist.


    ---


    Veridia City loomed before me, its gleaming towers and ancient walls a stark reminder of power concentrated in the hands of the few. Somewhere within those walls, Isabelle was being held, her blood harvested for Emerson''s twisted experiments.


    I''d spent the journey nning my approach. A frontal assault on the Guild headquarters would be suicide—even with my increased strength, I couldn''t fight an entire institution alone. I needed to be smarter.


    Emerson Holmes was my primary target, but going after him directly would trigger maximum security protocols. I needed to create confusion, to make my hunt seem like something else—a general vendetta rather than a surgical strike.


    And I knew exactly where to start.


    Julian Radford. Emerson''s closest associate and fellow alchemist. The man who had helped design the procedures now being used on Isabelle.


    Unlike Emerson, who rarely left Guild headquarters, Julian maintained a private vi in the city''s eastern district—a showcase of his wealth and status. He would be my first target, the beginning of a trail of destruction that would eventually lead to Emerson himself.


    Using techniques Bellweather had taught me, I infiltrated the city under cover of darkness, bypassing the main checkpoints where Guards were checking identification papers. The eastern district was known for its luxury and exclusivity, with private security patrols supplementing regr Guild forces.


    Julian''s vi was easily identified by its ostentatious design—a three-story marble structure with borate gardens and a fountain featuring his own likeness. Typical vanity of a man who believed himself untouchable.


    Security was surprisingly light—two guards at the front gate, basic rm formations around the perimeter. Julian clearly relied on his Guild affiliation for protection more than physical defenses.


    I waited until midnight before making my move. The guards were easily dispatched—not killed, merely rendered unconscious with pressure point techniques. No need to alert anyone with unnecessary deaths.


    The rm formations were more challenging but nothingpared to what I''d encountered in the Immortal Bane Sect. Within minutes, I was inside the vi, moving silently through darkened corridors adorned with expensive artwork and artifacts.


    I found Julian in his study, workingte over scrolls and alchemical diagrams. He was a thin man with meticulously groomed silver hair and hands stained with chemical residue. He didn''t notice my presence until I closed the study door behind me.


    "Workingte, Dr. Radford?" I said softly.


    He jumped, knocking over an inkwell that spilled across his papers. His eyes widened in recognition and fear.


    "Knight," he whispered, fumbling for something under his desk—likely an rm.


    I was across the room in an instant, my hand closing around his wrist. "I wouldn''t."


    Julian''s breathing became rapid, panicked. "How are you alive? We confirmed your death."


    "Disappointed?" I asked, tightening my grip until he winced.


    "What do you want?" he demanded, trying to maintain dignity despite his obvious terror.


    I released his wrist and circled his desk slowly. "Information. About Emerson Holmes and his experiments."


    Julian''s fear gave way momentarily to professional indignation. "Those are ssified Guild projects. I would die before betraying—"


    "That can be arranged," I cut him off coldly.


    His face paled. "You wouldn''t. The Guild would hunt you to the ends of the earth."


    "They''re already doing that," I replied. "And yet here I am, in the home of one of their protected alchemists."


    I lifted a scroll from his desk—recognizing Emerson''s handwriting on notes about blood extraction procedures. My blood boiled at the clinicalnguage describing what they were doing to Isabelle.


    "Tell me where he is," I demanded.


    Julian shook his head. "I can''t. Even if I wanted to, Emerson''s location changes daily since your attack on Guild headquarters. The President has him under special protection."


    "Bancroft," I muttered. "Another name on my list."


    "You''re insane," Julian whispered. "Going after the Guild President? That''s a death sentence."


    "Maybe," I acknowledged. "But I''m taking plenty of people with me. Starting with you."


    Real panic flooded his features now. "Wait! I''m just a researcher! I didn''t capture your woman—I had nothing to do with that decision!"


    "But you helped design the methods to extract her blood," I said, my voice dangerously soft. "You knew what they were doing to her and you facilitated it. That makes you just as guilty."


    Julian was trembling now. "Please. I have wealth, connections—I can help you!"


    "The only help I need is information on how to find Emerson."


    "I told you, I don''t know his current location! But..." he hesitated, desperation making him reckless. "But I know he''ll be at the Grand Symposium next week. All senior alchemists are required to attend."


    This was useful. "Where is this symposium held?"


    "The Guild''s Central Hall. But it will be heavily guarded—you''d never get within a hundred feet of him."


    I smiled coldly. "You''d be surprised what I can do these days."


    Julian stared at me, finallyprehending the change in my aura, the deadly confidence I now carried. "What happened to you? Your energy... it''s different. Stronger."


    "Let''s just say I found a treasure in the Immortal Bane Sect that turned my misfortunes into advantages."


    I allowed my cultivation aura to re slightly, filling the room with oppressive pressure that made Julian gasp for breath. His schrly hands clutched at his throat as if being strangled, though I hadn''t touched him.


    "Please," he wheezed when I eased the pressure. "I''ve told you what I know."


    "Not everything," I countered. "Isabelle''s condition. How is she?"


    A sh of genuine concern crossed his face. "The procedures... they''re taking a toll. Emerson pushes the limits of what her body can withstand. I''ve argued for more humane protocols, but—"


    "Spare me your ims of moral objection," I snapped. "You''re still participating."


    "Under duress! The Guild doesn''t ept resignations from critical projects."


    I leaned across his desk, my face inches from his. "Then you should have died rather than continue. That would have been the honorable choice."


    Julian slumped in his chair. "What are you going to do to me?"


    "What do you think?" I asked softly.


    He closed his eyes, resignation settling over his features. "I suppose I deserve it. For what it''s worth, I truly did argue for better treatment. Not that it matters now."


    I stepped back, gathering energy into my palm—a technique I''d perfected in the Immortal Bane Sect. The golden light illuminated Julian''s resigned face.


    "Anyst words?" I offered.


    "Just one request," he said quietly. "Make it quick."


    "That depends on how much you''ve made Isabelle suffer."


    As I prepared to strike, Julian suddenly jerked upright, his eyes fixed on something behind me. Before I could turn, a blinding sh of light erupted in the room, apanied by a high-pitched sound like metal striking metal.


    I spun around to find a shimmering golden sphere hovering between Julian and myself—a sphere I recognized immediately.


    The ck Gold Ball.


    It had been years since I''d encountered this legendary artifact—an ancient treasure that autonomously protected certain bloodlines from mortal danger. It had once saved Julian''s son from my attack, and now it was doing the same for him.


    "Interesting," I murmured, studying the sphere. "I didn''t realize your bloodline connection to the Ball was strong enough to summon it."


    Julian looked just as surprised as I was. "It''s not... I don''t have that level of connection."


    "Then who—"


    My question was answered by a familiar voice from the doorway.


    "I believe that would be me."


    Dudley Lowell stood there—Julian''s nephew and the current legitimate wielder of the ck Gold Ball. He was dressed in formal Guild attire, his handsome face set in lines of determination and barely controlled fury. <code ss="in-imprint-a">Brought to you by *.</code>


    "Knight," he spat. "The rumors were true. You''ve returned from the dead."


    I turned fully to face him, reassessing the situation. One opponent had be two, and the ck Gold Ballplicated matters significantly. It was one of the few artifacts that could potentially match my current power level.


    "Dudley," I acknowledged. "I see you''ve finally gained some control over your inheritance."


    His eyes narrowed. "Enough to stop you from murdering my uncle." He stepped further into the room, the Ball hovering closer to him. "I felt the danger to his bloodline halfway across the city."


    Julian sagged with visible relief. "Thank the heavens you arrived."


    I studied Dudley carefully. His connection to the Ball was stronger than when we''dst met—his aura had merged partially with the artifact''s, suggesting increased mastery. This would not be an easy fight.


    "You''ve improved," I noted. "But are you ready to die for a man who experiments on innocent women?"


    Dudley''s expression faltered slightly. "What are you talking about?"


    "Ask your uncle about the Ashworth girl," I suggested. "About what they''re doing to her in Guildboratories."


    Julian cut in quickly. "Don''t listen to his propaganda, Dudley! He''s trying to turn you against me—against the Guild!"


    Dudley hesitated, uncertainty flickering across his face before hardening into resolve. "Whatever grievances you have, Knight, there are proper channels. This vignte justice will only end in your death."


    Iughed bitterly. "Proper channels? When the corruption goes all the way to the top? When the Guild President himself authorizes torture?"


    "Enough!" Dudley''s patience snapped. The ck Gold Ball pulsed with energy, expanding slightly. "You won''t harm my uncle. Not while I live."


    I assessed my options quickly. Fighting both Dudley and the Ball would drain resources I needed for myrger mission. Yet retreating empty-handed would waste this opportunity.


    A new n formed in my mind—one that might serve my purposes even better.


    "Two for one, then," I said coldly. "I''ll ughter you both."