Legacy of Hatred

The more contrived statement had a simple reason. If everyone learned about the Church’s secret, it wouldn’t be a secret anymore.

The Church probably couldn’t purge the entire world. Even if it could, Liam would create more targets, muddying the waters and increasing his safety. He would likely become even more of a priority if he spread the secret so casually, but there was no ignoring that enmity anymore at that point.

As for the escape route Liam was giving, it had two purposes instead. One involved leaving survivors who could spread the story, while the other was more personal.

Liam had learned from Adrian how many members of the Church weren’t bad. They had nothing to do with the secret or the Dragon King’s machinations.

Killing innocents truly didn’t sit well with Liam. He would be no different than the butchers he had vowed to hunt otherwise, and he hated regretting taking lives.

At the same time, the logistics were simply impossible. Liam couldn’t just go around questioning every member of the Church, especially when launching such attacks. It was unfeasible.

So, Liam drew the line at that warning. The moment people chose to stay despite his threats, their deaths would become their fault.

Many wouldn’t take Liam seriously for obvious reasons, but that still would be their fault. It didn’t matter that he still had no grand fame to speak of. They would be wrong for underestimating him or trusting the Church over his power.

Besides, if Liam made those white robes synonymous with death, he would have created an attack stronger than any poison, a proper infection deeper than any individual action could cause.

Naturally, Liam didn’t expect anyone to leave, not from the Church. That force was known for being united, so even the mortals among the group outside held their ground.

That didn’t apply to the beggars. Mortals in the northern region seemed to live in more direct contact with cultivators, but the difference between them remained evident, especially in the current situation.

A single man had literally turned the sky black. The only reasonable reaction for a mortal was pure terror.

Screams resounded as the various tents and makeshift habitations emptied. Liam wasn’t sure how much mortals could serve the purpose of sharing the story, but that was already better than the worst-case scenario.

At the very least, Liam would only kill members of the Church.

Truth be told, the terror hadn’t been limited to the beggars. After all, the whirlpool of black Qi was nothing short of massive, way beyond what the average rooting expert should be able to produce.

For all intents and purposes, what loomed above the Cathedral was a proper, enormous rank 3 spell, and the truth wasn’t far from that.

The ambush had given Liam time to charge his alchemical spell as much as his skills in the third layer of Qi mastery allowed. That very skill had also improved since he had only focused on it recently.

Also, Liam had too much Qi, an absurd quantity of it. He could leak tides of it without affecting his reserves at all. The massive amount of condensed energy spinning inside the greatsword even exerted a certain pulling force, preventing that Qi from dispersing and creating the massive whirlpool.

The result was an apocalyptic scene, one that a brave rooting expert on the scene who had managed to keep his cool could only address with words.

"Fellow Daoist, you must be the famous Master Black Qi," The rooting expert said.

There were additional words, but Liam didn’t hear them. He had never been fond of talking, and he definitely hadn’t come there for that. The veins on his neck and arms popped as the muscles on his whole body tensed, fueling a single, basic gesture.

Of the two ways in which Liam could use the alchemical spell, one was effortless since it only involved the release of the condensed energy, which would happen on its own as soon as he lost control.

Instead, the redirecting of that condensed energy was more physically taxing. Liam basically had to throw that all-devouring Qi in a specific direction, and its weight depended on its amount.

Considering that Liam was currently wielding the best alchemical spell he could condense, the greatsword felt incredibly heavy, even heavier due to the absence of a body-enhancing pill. It was akin to moving the sky, which reminded him of a certain exchange he had with Dominic.

’If the sky is too high,’ Liam hissed in his mind as his struggle continued, ’I’ll bring it down!’

Liam gritted his teeth, squinting his eyes. He felt his bones groan, but the greatsword moved. It was a slow downward slash, which exploded once the weapon’s tip pointed at the Cathedral.

Actually, there was no explosion. Nothing really unfolded. Everything was more of a teleport or an instantaneous transformation. The Cathedral was no more at some point, a massive streak of pitch-black darkness having engulfed it.

The pitch-black darkness didn’t last long. It dispersed in the next second, but the morning light shone on a different scene.

The Cathedral was no more. At least, what was left wasn’t worthy of being a building anymore. Several floors of the majestic structure had disappeared, only leaving sizzling supporting pillars for the most part.

The destruction actually reached as deep as the first floor, where toxic slime had gathered. More fell from the sizzling, melted surfaces that had survived the blow, creating an area of death for the cultivators there.

There were survivors. Liam’s all-devouring alchemical spell had been immensely powerful, but it had also gone through multiple Qi-enhanced surfaces, losing power in the process.

Liam landed among that pool of toxic slime, inspecting the surrounding bodies. There were eight of those, three becoming corpses by the time he finished counting. The others were more poisonous flesh than bone, but one looked relatively alert.

The rooting expert in question had his lower body change color and nature. Part of his legs had melted, while everything else up to his waist had gone dark, quickly spreading the infection.

As the cultivator’s torso gained new dark patches, his melted legs left the slime. Liam lifted him by his jaw with one hand, putting his pained face before his black, feral eyes.

"Where is the teleport?" Liam asked.

"H-how do you-?" The rooting expert stammered but couldn’t finish his line since Liam crushed his face. That was the wrong answer for someone who had no time to waste.

Besides, it wasn’t hard to guess the answer. Despite all the toxic, corrosive slime that had accumulated, the floor had endured everything pretty well. Liam even sensed something unnatural at work, making him wield the greatsword with both hands and swing it down.