Mariana's hands glowed with soft golden light as she channeled healing energy into Isabelle's frail body. I could feel the spiritual toxins being drawn out—dark, viscous tendrils that had wrapped around her core. Whoever had done this knew exactly what they were doing. This was no random illness but a calculated attack ant to slowly drain her life force.
"Can you hear , Isabelle?" I murmured, leaning closer to her pale face.
Her eyelids fluttered, a weak sign of consciousness. Good. She was responding to my treatnt.
I intensified the flow of energy, pushing my spiritual power deeper into her ridians. The healing was taxing, requiring precise control to avoid damaging her already fragile system. Sweat beaded on my forehead as I worked, thodically clearing one energy pathway after another.
After what seed like hours, Isabelle's breathing finally steadied. The sickly pallor began to fade from her cheeks, replaced by a hint of healthy color.
"Pavilion Master?" Her voice was barely a whisper, but it held recognition.
"Don't strain yourself," I warned gently. "The poison has been neutralized, but your body needs ti to recover."
Isabelle's eyes opened fully now, clear and alert despite her weakness. "How did you know I was ill?"
I hesitated, weighing how much to reveal. "Let's just say a mutual friend was concerned about you."
Her eyes widened imdiately. "Liam? You've seen him? Is he—" She tried to sit up but winced as pain shot through her body.
"Easy," I said, easing her back down. "Yes, it was Liam. The protective talisman he made for you shattered when you fell ill."
Tears welled in Isabelle's eyes. "He's alive then. Truly alive."
I nodded, my expression softening. "More than alive. He's growing stronger every day."
"They told he was dead," she whispered, a single tear sliding down her temple. "Uncle Corbin showed news reports of the explosion at his apartnt. Said they found his remains."
"Your uncle lied," I replied simply. "Liam survived, though barely."
Hope blood across her face, transforming her features. Even weakened by illness, I could see why she was considered the great beauty of Veridia City.
"Did he... did he send a ssage?" she asked hesitantly.
I glanced at the door, extending my spiritual senses to ensure no one was eavesdropping. The Ashworths had agreed to give privacy, but I didn't trust Corbin as far as I could throw him—which, admittedly, could be quite far given my cultivation level.
"He did," I confird. "He wanted to tell you that he's growing stronger every day. In six months' ti, on September 9th, he'll return for you. He promises to be powerful enough by then to challenge the Ashworth family and reclaim what rightfully belongs to you and your father."
Isabelle's eyes widened with a mixture of joy and terror. "He can't! Uncle Corbin would destroy him. The Ashworths have connections everywhere—assassins, rcenaries, even governnt officials. Liam doesn't understand what he's up against."
"I believe he understands better than you think," I replied. "He's not the sa man who was cast out of Havenwood City."
She shook her head frantically. "No, you don't understand. My uncle is ruthless. The mont Liam shows his face, Corbin will—"
"Will what?" I interrupted gently. "Kill him? He's already tried that, hasn't he? Your uncle sent assassins after Liam the mont he learned he survived."
Isabelle's face crumpled. "I know," she whispered. "I overheard him giving the order. I've been terrified every day, not knowing if Liam was still alive."
I took her hand, squeezing it reassuringly. "Liam wanted to tell you sothing else. He said that no matter how dark things seem, you must rember that you're not alone. He's fighting for you every step of the way."
Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. "I never stopped believing in him, not really. Deep down, I knew he couldn't be gone."
She suddenly reached under her pillow, pulling out a small envelope. "If you're truly in contact with Liam, please give him this. It's not much, but it might help."
I accepted the envelope, feeling sothing solid inside—likely a bank card. T.h an%k^ you for readi.ng*. T&h^is$ was b&ro*u&ght to you by *%.-
"I've been saving what I could without raising suspicion," she explained. "And there's a note. Please make sure he gets it."
"I will," I promised, tucking the envelope into an inner pocket of my robe.
Isabelle gripped my hand suddenly, her eyes intense despite her weakness. "Tell him to be careful. Tell him that I—" She paused, swallowing hard. "Tell him that I'm waiting, but I want him alive more than anything. The Ashworths aren't worth his life."
"I'll deliver your ssage," I assured her. "Now rest. Your body needs to recover."
She relaxed back against the pillows, exhaustion quickly overtaking her. Within monts, her breathing deepened as she fell into a healing sleep.
I remained by her bedside, monitoring her condition and maintaining a protective spiritual barrier around her. The attack she'd suffered was sophisticated—whoever had administered the poison knew exactly what they were doing. This wasn't so random assassination attempt but a calculated effort to slowly drain her life force without leaving evidence. Likely the work of soone within the Ashworth household itself.
A soft knock at the door interrupted my thoughts.
"Enter," I called, keeping my voice low.
Harrison Ashworth stepped into the room, his worried gaze imdiately seeking his granddaughter. Seeing her peaceful sleep and improved color, relief washed over his weathered features.
"You've saved her," he said simply.
I nodded. "The imdiate danger has passed. She'll need rest and proper care, but she should make a full recovery."
The old man moved to the bedside, looking down at Isabelle with genuine affection. "Thank you, Pavilion Master. The Ashworth family owes you a debt."
"I don't work for debts or favors, Elder Ashworth," I replied. "I do what needs to be done."
Harrison studied carefully. "Nevertheless, we're grateful. May I ask what caused her illness? Dr. Pierce found nothing wrong with her."
"Your family physician lacks the training to detect spiritual poisoning," I explained. "Soone with considerable skill administered a slow-acting toxin designed to mimic natural illness. Had it continued, her organs would have gradually shut down, leaving no trace of foul play."
Harrison's expression darkened. "You're suggesting assassination? Who would dare target an Ashworth?"
I t his gaze directly. "That's a question only your family can answer. But whoever did this had access to her food, her dicines, perhaps even her personal items."
The implication hung heavy between us. Soone close to Isabelle—soone within the Ashworth household—had tried to kill her.
"I'll investigate this personally," Harrison vowed, his voice hardening. "No one harms my granddaughter and lives."
I stood, gathering my things. "She'll need to be monitored for the next few days. I've left detailed instructions for her care with her handmaidens."
"Will you not stay longer?" Harrison asked. "We can provide accommodations."
"My work here is done," I replied. "And I have other matters requiring my attention."
As I moved toward the door, Harrison spoke again. "Pavilion Master, one more question. How did you know Isabelle was ill? You ntioned a protective talisman, but I know my granddaughter has never visited the Celestial Apothecary Guild."
I turned, offering a asured smile. "As Pavilion Master, I have my ways of knowing things, Elder Ashworth. Let's leave it at that."
Before he could press further, the door burst open and Corbin Ashworth strode in, followed closely by the sinister figure of Roderick Blackthorne.
"How convenient that the great Pavilion Master happened to arrive just in ti to save my niece," Corbin sneered. "Almost as if you knew she would fall ill today."
I faced him calmly. "Your suspicion does you no credit, Corbin Ashworth. Especially when soone in your household attempted to murder your niece under your very nose."
Corbin's face contorted with rage. "How dare you make such accusations in my ho!"
"Father," Harrison intervened, "the Pavilion Master has saved Isabelle's life. Show so gratitude."
"Gratitude?" Corbin scoffed. "For what? For interfering in Ashworth family affairs? For potentially sabotaging Isabelle's engagent to the Blackthorne heir?"
Roderick stepped forward, his cold eyes assessing . "My family has invested considerable resources in this alliance," he stated flatly. "Any delay could be... problematic."
"Your son's bride nearly died today," I pointed out. "I'd think you'd be grateful she's been saved for him."
Roderick's thin lips curled in what might have been a smile. "Of course, Pavilion Master. We're most appreciative." His tone suggested anything but gratitude.
I turned my attention back to Harrison. "Elder Ashworth, I've done what I ca to do. Isabelle will recover fully with proper rest."
"Thank you again, Pavilion Master," Harrison said formally. "Allow to escort you out."
"That won't be necessary," Corbin interjected sharply. "I'll see the Pavilion Master off myself."
Harrison looked ready to argue, but sothing in his son's expression made him hesitate. "Very well," he conceded, though clearly uncomfortable with the arrangent. "I'll stay with Isabelle."
I nodded my farewell to Harrison and followed Corbin into the hallway. Roderick Blackthorne fell into step beside us, his presence a looming shadow.
"You've overstepped today, Pavilion Master," Corbin said as we walked. "The Celestial Apothecary Guild may hold influence, but here in Veridia City, the Ashworth na reigns supre."
"Is that why you're planning to ambush ?" I asked casually.
Corbin missed a step, genuine surprise flashing across his face before his mask of arrogance returned.
"I don't know what you an," he said smoothly.
"Co now, Corbin," I replied. "I sensed your n moving into position the mont I arrived. Fourteen Peak Form Grandmasters, if I'm not mistaken, plus nurous ard guards. Quite the welcoming committee for a simple healer."
Roderick shot a concerned glance at Corbin. "Perhaps this isn't wise," he murmured. "The Guild's retaliation would be severe."
"Stay out of this, Roderick," Corbin snapped. "This goes beyond our alliance. This woman knows too much."
We reached the main courtyard of the Ashworth estate, and I paused, taking in the serene garden with its carefully manicured paths and tranquil pond. Such beauty masking such ugliness beneath.
"Last chance, Corbin," I offered. "Allow to leave peacefully, and we can pretend this unfortunate lapse in judgnt never happened."
His answer was a sharp gesture to the shadows surrounding the courtyard. Imdiately, figures erged from behind pillars, trees, and decorative screens—martial artists with killing intent radiating from their stances.
"Pavilion Master Mariana Valerius," Corbin announced formally, "you are charged with conspiracy against the Ashworth family and attempted interference in matters of state. You will be detained for questioning."
I raised an eyebrow. "Questioning? Is that what you're calling execution these days?"
"You flatter yourself," Corbin replied coldly. "Though accidents do happen during intense interrogations."
Roderick shifted uncomfortably. "Corbin, reconsider. Attacking a Pavilion Master—"
"Will send a ssage to anyone who dares oppose the Ashworths," Corbin finished for him. "The Guild will protest, of course, but they'll have no evidence. And without their Pavilion Master, they'll be in disarray for months."
I looked around at the encircling forces, seemingly unperturbed. "Fourteen Peak Form Grandmasters, as I thought. Plus..." I paused, extending my spiritual senses. "Twenty-seven ard guards with spiritual weapons. You certainly didn't hold back."
Corbin smiled coldly. "I never do."
At his signal, the hidden gunn erged, forming a line and pointing their weapons directly at . The collective aura of the Grandmasters erupted around us, creating a crushing pressure intended to immobilize their target.
"Your move, Pavilion Master," Corbin said, triumph gleaming in his eyes. "Though I suggest you don't make one at all."
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