Legacy of Hatred

The more Liam’s mindset broadened, the wider the range of his thoughts could be, enabling previously unthinkable perspectives.

Just like kissing Melissa had taught Liam a different way of handling alchemical variables, experiencing the profound loss of his sudden departure had provided lessons he could apply to concoctions.

Liam’s understanding of life had deepened. He had learned about a new kind of suffering. He had experienced the more intense scorching drive of wanting to get back what he had lost.

Moreover, Liam had felt the profound awe his Master had birthed, both when it came to the unfathomable battle and impossibly perfect preparations.

Last but not least, Liam’s own hatred had reached new levels. All that loss would have been avoided if it weren’t for his natural enmity against the Dragons.

Discovering love, experiencing new loss, feeling bottomless, awe-inspiring gratitude, and bathing in both chilling and scorching newfound ambition added skills Liam didn’t think possible to his concoction.

The crackling of the charcoal-like spirit stones, the flickering of the black alchemical flame, the rumblings of the two cauldrons, and the scents leaked into the air gained broader meanings, which Liam tackled with a wiser and, at times, more forceful approach.

The year that had transformed Liam from a mere monkey-boy into a man worthy of the title of cultivator culminated in the release of black smoke from the rightmost cauldron, which the rectangular room quickly filtered away.

Liam was exhausted. His vision was hazy, blurred by the plentiful sweat flowing over his pale face. His body was also pretty much devoid of Qi, bringing drowsiness and dizziness that threatened to make him collapse.

Except Liam didn’t collapse, not yet. He should have rested after the three-day escape, but the same flame that wanted him to retrieve everything he had lost kept him awake, using the last bits of his energy to complete the still-incomplete concoction.

Liam felt that all that pain had to amount to something. He needed a tangible result that could compensate for the happiness he had been too weak to retain and too stupid to recognize.

All that loss had to have a meaning, and if the Heavens refused to provide it, Liam would do that himself.

A mere second could make the difference between success and failure, so Liam didn’t hesitate. He grunted as he leaned forward, grabbing the leftmost cauldron to lift it while continuing to manage the alchemical flame.

Liam’s hand burned without the innate protection the Qi provided, but he barely felt it. He was a tool, a driven instrument of an alchemical concoction, his sole purpose in life to serve alchemy itself.

Grains of what looked like charred dust rolled out of the lifted cauldron once Liam tilted it, falling into the other to join the settling Boar’s Touch.

Liam directly threw the cauldron away afterward, continuing to unleash his last bits of Qi on the log and spirit stones. The black crystals were breaking apart, but still releasing the necessary heat.

The cauldron rumbled again, more intensely than earlier, seemingly wanting to topple on its own while the spirit stones under it crumbled one by one. The heat diminished, but the concoction continued.

Then, as if driven by instincts stemming from subconscious knowledge, Liam slapped the cauldron’s side, forcing it to expel impurities again. A new tide of smoke rose to the ceiling, but everything went silent in the next moment.

The spirit stones stopped crackling and crumbled completely. No more rumblings resounded from the cauldron. Even the smoke dispersed, filtered away from the room.

Liam didn’t dare to breathe until a peculiar scent reached his nostrils and prompted him to smell it, leading to debilitating dizziness. A sizzling bubbling also reached his ears, but it was his perception that provided the final confirmation.

Liam quickly seized a Qi-enhanced flask he had prepared earlier, kneeling in front of the cauldron to tilt it toward the container. A pale, almost bright liquid flowed inside, filling it to the brim.

The last time, the Boar’s Touch had melted through cauldrons and cups alike, its corrosive properties too intense for those items to endure.

However, Liam had a proper rank 1 cauldron now, and even his flask was specific for those substances. His Master had made sure to add a set of those in the space-ring.

So, the pale liquid didn’t carve through the transparent flask, and Liam soon sealed it to save himself from the debilitating scent that tried to poison his very mind.

But, even when sealed, the liquid’s power remained unmistakable. It was a true rank 2 concoction, a weak one, but a proper rank 2 poison nonetheless, something pure enough to be considered a success.

’Master, you have done it,’ Liam thought, exhaustion finally winning over him and bringing his butt to the floor. ’You invented a new alchemical frontier.’

Unknowingly to the world, in some of the furthest reaches of the Dragon Kingdom, inside a random underground room, the impossible had happened. A foundation expert had concocted something that belonged to the rooting stage.

The event was revolutionary, with the potential to change alchemy as a whole. It could bring countless masters to witness the unfathomable feat, adding it to the history books to mark the official beginning of a new wave of applications.

After all, foundation experts could only create rank 1 concoctions, and the same was true for the higher stages and ranks. That was how the world worked, but the rule had been broken, and no one knew what astonishing, previously unthinkable results it could lead to.

Nevertheless, the new frontier had to remain a secret, just like the one who had succeeded at it and its maker. At least, no one could know about it as long as the Dragons lived or until Liam was strong enough to bear the consequences.

’One day, everyone will know,’ Liam promised as he lay down, unable to delay the deserved collapse any longer. ’The world will chant about Horace Rauret and his compound concoctions.’