“What? You want a divorce?” Sylvester stared wordlessly at Emily.
The desperation and frustration on her face weighed down heavily on him. The pain in his legs could not compare to that in his heart as he watched her breakdown. “You shouldn’t say things like that, Emily.” He sighed. Wasn’t a divorce simply going too far? He was almost close to his goal.
This was the most he could do in his state. “Knowing too much right now is not good. I promise to explain everything to you when I’m done. Trust me.” He moved his wheelchair closer to her.
“Don’t come closer, Sylvester.” Emily felt a rollercoaster of emotions wash over her. He sounded genuine, like he really cared. Yet, his secretive ways told her another story. A million theories flew around her mind as to his reason, but there was no good conclusion.
“I want to know, Sylvester!” She cried out, her hands grabbing a fistful of her hair. “Are you in trouble? After all, ever since we’ve gotten married, I’ve been ridiculed. What more are you hiding that would ridicule me more? You’re making it worse with your sneaky behavior. Do you even know the rumors flying about?”
A frown graced his brows. “Emily, don’t listen to the rumors. You and I know it’s not true. You know people will always talk,” he tried to persuade her, but she shot him a glare. Confused, he questioned, “What rumors are those anyway?”
“Yes, of course they will talk. They might as well be right!” She lashed out, tears streaming down her face. “How can I be sure that you’re not spending my hard-earned money on some mistress out there, huh? Rumors travel fast, you know!”
“Are you playing me for a fool? Because that’s exactly how I feel right now!” Her voice was barely above a whisper as she asked.
Sylvester was ruffled by her words. He was pained deeply, to say the least. How could she think so low of him? He wondered, hurt, sinking his morale.
“I might be disabled right now, Emily,” but I’m not an unfaithful man. Loyalty is my core value,” he started, wheeling himself even closer to her.
She stared up at him with a tear-stained face, her hand clutching something on her chest.
"Emily, you're my wife. We might not have gotten married under the perfect circumstances, but I am committed to you," he urged her, his voice laced with concern and care.
Her eyes burned into his eyes, conflicting emotions swirling in them.
"Listen, Emily, I will repay you all the money. I would tell you what I am doing if I can, but right now, I can't. I won't cheat on you. I care about you—"
"Just stop it!" She snapped angrily. Her chest rose and fell, as she glared at him. Her fingers clenched tighter on the object on her chest, which seemed to fuel her anger even more.
"Listen, a man who I have to provide for is not worthy of being a husband, talk less of being my husband," her voice was firm with a slight falter. "I need a man capable enough to take care of me too. I deserve a hero, too!"
Her words struck his heart like spiked whips.
"Look at this," she spoke, finally revealing what was clutched in her hands.
It was a beautiful pendant with intricate details in its edges hanging on a thin chain. It gave off a simple yet elegant appearance. "Do you know where I got this?" Emily uttered, swinging the chain.
Sylvester didn't have much time to think about it, though.
"I got it from a brave man, a hero, who rescued me from being killed in a terrible battle!" Her sharp, cold voice sent him crashing back to the present.
"I want a man like that, Sylvester. That's the kind of man I want, Sylvester and this is why I can’t love you. You are not him and you can never be!” Emily’s words crashed against Sylvester’s ears and he seemed to be thrust back to that time at the war front.
That pendant hanging on her neck was a key that unlocked the memory that remained locked in his memory.
It was the crux of the war against the first band at the borders, he had driven his sword down the chest of an assailant and he caught sight of a lady crouched in a corner of the field.
She was scarcely covered by the elephant grasses behind which she hid.
"Cover me!" He yelled at his soldiers, moving stealthily towards her. The pendant, a family heirloom, swung on his neck as he advanced towards her.
Suddenly, an enemy appeared in front of him, "Run!" He had yelled at the scared lady as he lunged at the approaching opponent. He saw as she scurried to her feet, feeling a relief before facing the enemy.
"Thank you," her voice faintly floated into his ears.
The battle had ended in victory, but to his dismay, the pendant on his neck had mysteriously disappeared.
He rushed back to the border to find the pendant, but there was no sign of it anywhere. Its disappearance zapped him of energy, which gave the second band of opposing soldiers an advantage over him. It was a family heirloom, and its sentimental value was worth over twenty generations. He was disappointed in himself to have lost it in the war—or so he thought. Now, as he stared at the pendant that swung like a pendulum from the chain in the hands of the damsel that had been rescued by him, he felt a surge of energy within him.
She was the one.
How had he not seen the pendant on her for the three years of their marriage? He wondered.

Latest Chapter
Chapter 95
Sylvester stood at the center of the war room, a faded map of the region stretched out before him, his hands gripping the edge of the table. His gaze, however, wasn’t on the map. It was faraway, sharp with dread and calculation. Around him, his trusted students and commanders gathered, watching his silence with mounting concern.He finally exhaled. “Flyn is dead.”Murmurs broke across the room like a gust of wind. Katherine's eyes widened. Verity’s jaw tightened. Geral stepped forward, brows furrowed.“You’re sure?” Geral asked.“I saw the place myself,” Sylvester replied. “He was murdered in his shop at the black market. There was no struggle. No signs of resistance. Just…poof!” He looked up, voice grave. “Surely, you don’t mean this…” Geral hummed.“I look like I’m joking?”“Where do we even begin to believe something like that?” Geral folded his arms in skepticism.“Well, listen on, would ya?” Sylvester prodded.Geral rolled his eyes subtly.“It was Edrag. And he didn’t just kill
Chapter 94
The sun hadn’t yet kissed the horizon when Sylvester pulled on his cloak, the thick black fabric brushing against his ankles like a shadow trailing his steps. The hood draped low over his eyes, just enough to distort his face. His steps were deliberate, the weight of his dagger hidden beneath his coat adding a subtle rhythm to his gait. But he wasn’t going in for a fight.He was going to find the truth. He only needed a weapon because the black market was that evil.The black market lived beneath the city’s bones, tucked into catacombs and alleyways most wouldn’t dare to whisper about.He didn’t like how coming here always meant he had to be on guard.He really wished he could help the place, but the black market was different from the slums. It was the place purpose built for evil, masked with a rough enclave to make it unappealing to anyone who wasn’t desperate.Because that was who the black market served.The desperate.Stalls stretched endlessly, lined with cursed trinkets, be
Chapter 93
The night was thick, masked with the heavy air of tension as the storm raged.Sylvester turned restlessly in bed, his brow slick with sweat despite the coolness of the room. Shadows.He saw shadows…dancing along the walls, flickering in rhythm with the occasional rumble of distant thunder. And then…Nothing.Pitch black. It was a void so silent and absolute it felt like time itself had stopped breathing. In that abyss, Sylvester stood alone. No echoes…no wind. Just him and the crawling chill that traced the back of his neck like a warning.Then came the thunder again. Not from the sky, but from the ground. Deep, guttural, and unnatural. It wasn’t a sound…it felt more like a growl from the belly of something ancient.He jolted upright, eyes wide, breath caught in his throat.Emily stirred beside him, reaching over groggily. “Hold on…you have the ability to dream?” she asked, voice husky. “Much less bad ones.”Sylvester nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. “Not just a dream. This o
chapter 92
Edrag watched himself devolve from a state of slight agitation to a complete mental breakdown.The news that reached him would make anyone crash out, and he was no exception. Everything he thought he was, Sylvester was reported as being better, and as far as he knew, he wasn’t even grandmaster yet.No one could recover back to grand-master after such an accident as Sylvester had.It was impossible.And yet, his spy was in front of him, trembling with news that made his ears bleed.“Say it again,” Edrag commanded.The spy’s voice trembled. “S-Sylvester’s students… they’ve recruited more men. There was a clan that had been involved in some shady deals. Another sect master had been investigating them, and he was being dealt with, and as soon as Sylvester got wind of it…he and his men went in. Not one single unintended casualty.”Edrag hated the last part of the statement.It was almost a mockery…a praise on how efficient of a job Sylvester could do.He didn’t need to know that.Edrag exh
Chapter 91
Outside, the wind was quiet, as if the world had paused to acknowledge what had just transpired. The moonlight filtered in and shared its unjudging rays on the fighters, painting them a tad lighter than the frown etched on their grim faces. Genevieve ran into her father’s arms before Sylvester could even say a word. Lincoln caught her in a tight hug, his large hands cupping the back of her head as if making sure she was really there. “I thought I lost you,” Lincoln said, voice rough like gravel under boot. His eyes were red-rimmed but proud, locked on his daughter as though seeing her for the first time again. “I told you I’d be okay,” Genevieve mumbled into his shirt. “He promised.” Lincoln looked up at Sylvester, their eyes meeting in a silent exchange. Gratitude. Respect. Guilt. When Genevieve finally pulled back, her smile faded into something more serious. “Dad...where did you meet a guy like that?!” she pointed to Sylvester. “He’s a master planner! I mean…the set-up…the
Chapter 90
The door splintered inward with a violent kick, wood flying, and Sylvester charged through like the force he had promised to be. The two guards stationed beside Genevieve’s makeshift prison barely had time to raise their weapons before he was on them. One lunged at him with a dagger, but Sylvester ducked low, drove his elbow into the man’s ribs, and twisted sharply. Bones cracked, the sound followed by a gut wrenching scream. The other pulled a gun, but Sylvester, despite the dull ache in his side, moved faster. He grabbed a shard from the broken door and flung it like a dagger, striking the man’s hand. The weapon clattered to the floor. He pounced before the man could recover, sweeping his leg out and slamming him to the ground. A swift punch to the jaw ended the struggle. Breathing heavily, Sylvester turned to Genevieve. Her eyes widened as she took in his face, almost like she was looking at an angel. Sylvester tilted his head and flashed her a smile. “You came,” she whisper
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