Legacy of Hatred

The calm brought by categorizing that intricate mess as a hunt didn’t make Liam any less jumpy.

Liam didn’t show it, but his meditation wasn’t too deep, or rather, the mixture of his wariness and the hiss kept him alert despite being immersed in his circulation technique.

Liam didn’t jump on the spot or open his eyes. Still, much of his awareness was on the environment, paying utmost attention to the slightest sound, smell, or change in the air’s density, ready to burst into action whenever his instincts flagged any potential threat.

Truth be told, Liam’s training showed its results there. The high-grade circulation technique pushed him to the extreme of what he could handle, but performing it had become mostly automatic, allowing him to split his attention without losing focus on either activity.

Of course, that wary sensitivity had a single cause. Sure, Liam didn’t forget about the other teams, but the white-masked captor obviously was his biggest worry, as well as the only threat he wasn’t sure he could perceive.

Witnessing the Disciplinary Elder disappearing had long since taught Liam that he couldn’t keep up with branching experts. Yet, that extreme alertness was the full extent of what Liam could do, so he employed it, no matter how pointless it could be.

That continued even after dawn came and the morning turned into afternoon. The Pale Moon Sect’s team didn’t move from the tree they had occupied on the battle royale’s first day, which was by design.

There was no hurry to fight. Actually, fighting so early and often would only leave the team exhausted for the mission’s last stretch, making it easy prey.

Simon’s strategy was to wait a few days before joining the fray, exploiting the exhaustion and injuries other teams might have suffered, increasing each victory’s potential rewards since some of those groups would have already collected tablets.

The strategy was sound, even perfect. Liam completely agreed with it, but his brain couldn’t help but notice a curious detail. Maxwell had been far more domineering in the Mutated Battlefield, hinting at something more profound than mere battle tactics.

’Is it because this mission has other core disciples?’ Liam wondered. ’Or is it just a difference in character?’

Cultivating was an act of defiance against the natural order, of imposing someone’s own will onto the world. That was what the Alchemy Elder had taught Liam, what had ignited his desire, and Maxwell’s behavior matched that lesson.

Instead, Simon’s approach was different, opposite even, and Liam couldn’t help but connect it to the banter with Anastasia.

’Is that why she called him inferior?’ Liam pondered.

There was a vague trend in Liam’s life that confirmed that point. His greatest achievements came from when he ignored the rules and imposed his way of life on the world, when he stopped being a mere hunter and became the cultivator his Master taught him to be.

Naturally, that thought didn’t go anywhere. It was too deep for Liam to confirm or deny it. He had merely used it to kill time during that silent day, but more pressing and relevant sensations eventually arrived.

"There’s a battle," Simon suddenly muttered, opening his eyes to look in a specific direction to his left.

"Two," Liam instinctively corrected.

"What?" Simon asked, bringing his gaze to Liam, forcing him to open his eyes.

"There are two battles," Liam casually explained, pointing in the same direction Simon had inspected earlier. "One is deeper into the Canyon, while the other is higher, just further away."

Simon followed Liam’s arm, but he had pointed in the same direction both times, and that gesture couldn’t be enough to confirm his claim. Still, confirmations arrived.

"My, my," Anastasia gasped in her sensual way. "My beloved Senior Brother told me about your perception, but witnessing it for myself is no less surprising."

Simon and Liam looked at Anastasia, and she continued without needing to interrupt her meditation.

"There are indeed two ongoing battles," Anastasia revealed. "The most distant is larger in scale, with four rooting experts involved. The closest only has attacks launched in the same direction, probably chasing after a scout."

Anastasia sorted her thoughts for a few seconds before adding more details. "The scout used something hot to accelerate. If I had to guess, that’s the rank 1 movement-oriented martial art Afterflame from the Scorching Sun Sect."

’Whoa,’ Liam couldn’t help but gasp internally. ’Is that the power of a perception technique when Senior Sister uses it?’

Liam might have sharp, superhuman senses, but Anastasia had captured events in such detail as if she had witnessed them. Moreover, her knowledge had also been complete enough to assign a technique and Sect to one of those.

’I want a perception technique,’ Liam thought, regretting how Maxwell had argued against it with the Sect Leader.

"Good, let them fight," Simon nodded, his unconvinced look returning to Liam. "Junior Brother, did you keep a perception technique secret all this time?"

"Senior Brother, I haven’t," Liam replied, frowning.

"How did you know then?" Simon questioned. "The sounds came from the same direction. One should have covered the other, so you couldn’t have heard both accurately."

"I heard the leaves rustle," Liam revealed. "There are so many that they create an echo."

"You ...," Simon muttered, not sure how to take the news, even feeling stupid for speaking such words. "You deduced that from how many leaves rustled?"

"No?" Liam said, tilting his head in confusion, not understanding how Simon could have reached that conclusion. "More rustling would have only meant a wider affected area."

Anastasia was about to chuckle in amusement, wanting to use that to insult Simon, only for Liam to explain himself better.

"There were two rustlings," Liam explained as if it were the most normal thing in the world. "One was stretched, the other more intense. One was even louder. They were too different to come from the same location."

Anastasia forgot about insulting Simon and finally opened her eyes, pointing her blank face at Liam.

"Junior Brother," Anastasia called, "You can differentiate between the rustlings of leaves?"

"Yes?" Liam confirmed, feeling that something was off despite talking about such an obvious thing. "Each leaf is different, so it rustles differently."

Of course, Liam hadn’t been able to hear so much in Krosstoen’s mountain, but he only saw that as a Qi-driven expansion of something he already wielded and considered normal, not as something new and shocking.

"Must be nice," Simon scoffed, smirking derisively. "Being born with nine spiritual roots and all the blessings they provide. Are any of your achievements even yours or your talent’s?"

Anastasia was about to start bickering when Liam abruptly stood up on the branch he had occupied, his balance not even attempting to falter as he drew his bow.

Something had shifted, or rather, disappeared. Liam didn’t know if it had been his ears, nose, sixth sense, or what else, but a hole had appeared where there once was something.

Actually, the change was more insidious. The something hadn’t been replaced with pure nothing. Another something had taken place, but the process had been too sudden for Liam to miss it.

"I think something is coming," Liam said, his eyes darting across the endless expanse of green, trying to find something to shoot.

"Naturally, we have been spotted long ago," Anastasia calmly revealed, a simple smile returning to her face while she looked to her left. "It seems they have finally mustered the courage to attack."