Legacy of Hatred

Entire lifetimes went by in the span of seconds. Thoughts fired at unfathomable speed inside Liam’s brain, reviewing that unexpected encounter and its terrifying implications.

Cultivators were generally split into two categories. There were those belonging to Sects, enjoying the benefits only huge forces rooted into the very fabric of the cultivation world could provide, and lone cultivators, cursed to scavenge for whatever was left on their own.

Lone cultivators could gain a different title depending on how they carried out their scavenging. If they resorted to criminal, evil acts, they were labeled demonic due to the often-bloody path they trod.

However, there was a third category, or rather, lone cultivators featured an extreme beyond what the Guilds could offer. Proper Demonic Sects did exist, and the Divine Cult was one of them.

After the mission in the ruins, Liam had tried to look for relevant information, but came back empty-handed. He couldn’t find anything specific about the Divine Cult. His studies had only highlighted the Demonic Sects’ usually secretive nature.

Yet, Liam understood the world better now. He knew that Demonic Sects didn’t exist in a vacuum and couldn’t live in complete isolation. With how demanding in resources the cultivation journey was, that approach would only lead to slow withering.

Now, the ruins had been destroyed an unclear but long time ago. The cause behind their destruction was up for debate, but they were gone, and they had been for a while.

Nevertheless, Liam knew that another current, and somewhat thriving location of that same Demonic Sect existed, a cell, as the white-masked jailer had called it.

That existence demanded a presence in the cultivation world, no matter how faint, in the network the six neighboring Sects ruled, at the very least. After all, the underground prison needed resources, and those in charge of it even knew the Recruiters Guild’s routes.

Actually, the jailers could know far more than that. Mortal kids from remote villages disappearing wouldn’t cause a scene. It might even go unnoticed, but killing Guilds’ representatives couldn’t, so the Divine Cult had to have a way to prevent exposing itself.

That way became obvious now, at least in the general sense. Liam didn’t know what the Divine Cult did specifically. Still, he understood how it could establish a cell and carry out criminal activities in the area without anyone noticing or triggering a mass revolt.

No one would sound the alarms if the very people assigned to that duty belonged to the Divine Cult.

The white-masked man wasn’t merely a criminal. He was also an Elder of the Swallowing Forest Sect. He was a powerful inside man with immense authority over the environment that should oppose the Divine Cult, allowing the latter to commit crimes unnoticed.

It was unclear whether a single Elder possessed the power to perform such an extensive cover-up while also living a second life. Honestly, Liam had no idea what branching experts were capable of, so he didn’t come up with arbitrary limits.

Yet, Liam knew that there could be more inside men. Nothing said that things ended with the white-masked captor. Actually, since he had done it, it only made sense that more could have, too, especially with an Elder’s help.

For all Liam knew, none of the six Sects were safe from that unnoticed invasion. They could all be compromised, littered with spies with different levels of authority for reasons Liam couldn’t even begin to imagine.

Of course, that deep and probably wide ploy had nothing to do with Liam. He not only lacked the means to understand it. He was also too small to affect it.

Instead, what Liam could affect was himself and what the unexpected danger meant, especially at that very moment.

’He was a branching expert then,’ Liam acknowledged.

The hooded jailers had been foundation experts with poor mastery over their circulation techniques. Liam would have never killed one without using Qi otherwise.

That played into the terrible conditions lone cultivators were forced to survive, making Liam hope that the jailers’ leader was only at the rooting stage.

Obviously, that assumption had turned out to be wrong.

’What happens now?’ Liam wondered, cold killing intent leaking into his expression.

The Alchemy Elder’s instructions had been clear. If an enemy branching expert appeared, Liam had to run away as fast as he could, relying on the Primal Urge if necessary.

Liam also didn’t delude himself. He might have improved by leaps and bounds since that conversation, in more ways than one, but a branching expert remained beyond his reach.

If Maxwell couldn’t be confident facing a level three magical beast, Liam had to believe that he was powerless against a branching expert.

Still, despite all that, most of Liam’s drive had been about wanting to defy the odds, and that probably was the worst they had ever been in his life. He couldn’t even think of a better target.

’If ...,’ Liam thought hesitantly. ’If I get the chance, then maybe, just maybe ...’

Strategy would be pointless. Liam knew the gap was too vast, wider than it had been between him and the lone cultivators. The opportunity had to come to him, but those were plans for the living, and he wasn’t sure he would belong to them much longer.

Time seemed to have crawled to a halt during that mutual stare. Yet, it had continued to flow, and the same went for the basic pleasantries between Simon and the other Elder.

The pleasantries culminated with Simon approaching the white-haired Elder, retrieving three rectangular wooden tablets, and storing them in his robe before returning to his team.

"We shall take our leave now," Simon declared, bowing. "It was an honor to meet the Swallowing Forest Sect’s mighty Elders."

"The relationship between our Sects is stronger than ever," The white-haired Elder chuckled. "There’s no need for such ceremonies among friends. I wish you luck in the tournament."

"Elders," Simon merely lowered his head, turning to depart afterward.

Liam didn’t need to bow because he had never risen from the previous one, but Simon’s departure startled him straight. His stiffness was evident, his gaze darting between the two Elders, lingering on his captor for longer.

Liam soon became self-aware about his revealing looks, so he lowered his head to avoid messing up any further. That did little to hide the mess in his mind, but the damage was already done, and he could focus on leaving instead.

Even greater tension fell on Liam as he showed his back to his white-masked captor and climbed through the forest with Simon. He expected something catastrophic to happen. He believed the greatest martial art he had ever witnessed would crash on him and extinguish his life.

Nevertheless, nothing happened. Liam kept following Simon, putting enough distance from the green Elders to leave them far behind.

As for the two Elders, they obviously didn’t need a direct line of sight to continue inspecting the departing team, but the white-haired one eventually diverted his gaze to address his companion.

"Elder Basil," The white-haired Elder called, "Did you and the Pale Moon Sect’s genius meet?"

The white-haired Elder didn’t need to explain himself. He couldn’t miss that prolonged, mutual stare, deciding to address it now that privacy had returned.

"Elder Sherman, I apologize," Elder Basil responded, sighing. "I was so curious about the famous nine spiritual roots, my inspection became a bit forceful. That ... Liam is quite perceptive. I’m afraid I startled him."

"His training under Master Horace must be bearing fruit," Elder Sherman commented, dismissing the issue since he shared his companion’s interest. "Still, have you noticed? That amount of Qi can’t be the result of a low-grade circulation technique."

"I did, Elder," Elder Basil confirmed. "It’s quite shocking to see a foundation expert contain something beyond low-grade."

"I guess Disciple Mitchell’s zeal was justified," Elder Sherman admitted. "We stand on the eve of a generational powerhouse, one that hasn’t been seen in centuries."

"I agree," Elder Basil said, his gaze growing distant. "Such a miraculous young seed. Whoever controls him will possess the strength to shape the future."

"He’ll need years to grow," Elder Sherman pointed out, "Decades. The Pale Moon Sect would have to go bankrupt to nurture him to the leafing stage. Nine might be perfection, but perfection is ruthless."

"Indeed," Elder Basil muttered, hiding the understanding dawning behind his distant gaze. "His core’s demands must be unfathomable, just like his tolerance."

"It’s a pity such a genius hasn’t fallen in the Swallowing Forest Sect," Elder Sherman sighed. "Though we couldn’t have provided such a suitable Master. We should be content we decided to side with the Pale Moon Sect this early, before he makes that alliance too expensive to be worthy."

"Elder Sherman is correct," Elder Basil agreed. "Catching opportunities early is key to benefiting from them. On this topic, I shall stop abusing your valuable time."

"Nonsense, Elder Basil," Elder Sherman chuckled. "Your company is always appreciated. I half-hoped we had the time to share a drink, but the hour is quite late."

"Yes, I must attend to the Evergreen Canyon’s security perimeter," Elder Basil nodded. "Elder Sherman, until next time."

Elder Basil directly vanished from the scene, his figure shooting at unfathomable speed through the forest without creating any disturbance among the plentiful leaves.

Many clues hit Elder Basil’s perception. He sensed where some of the other teams had hidden, waiting for the morning so that the battle royale could start. Yet, he only memorized those locations while he left the formation’s perimeter.

The green Elder suddenly found himself standing on yellow grass, his back pointing at a series of fake hills, but his brown eyes looked ahead at nothing in particular, turning cold as he made a decision.

Elder Basil tilted his hand, and a dark, oval jade appeared in his palm, a strange symbol carved in its surface.

’Change of plans,’ The Elder thought, pouring his Qi in the item to deliver that message. ’Bring everyone to the Evergreen Canyon.’