The mutual inspection partially subsided at the announcement. Liam and the two rooting experts couldn’t help but study Lancelot, their focus on the second part of his statement.

"Wait, wait," The sleeveless rooting expert exclaimed. "No one said anything about destroying the Church’s sacred ground."

"Are you perhaps scared of the Church’s enmity?" The elegant rooting expert asked. "You didn’t strike me as the careful type."

"I ain’t scared of anything," The sleeveless cultivator snorted, his presence surging, flooding the room with tension. "I’m only pointing out that I haven’t been told about this."

"Was there any need to?" The elegant rooting expert calmly said. "We are outsiders. Any meaningful achievement in the inheritance would earn us a grudge. We might as well deserve that."

"I don’t like your condescending tone," The sleeveless cultivator threatened.

"And I’m surprised you know that word," The elegant cultivator replied.

From Liam’s perspective, the two cultivators couldn’t be more opposite, and that went beyond the banter.

The two were both relatively young, the sleeveless cultivator seemingly close to his thirties, while the other was just a few years younger. Their cultivation was also advanced. Liam didn’t know if it was complete, but it was far more developed than his, only paling before Lancelot’s. 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ𝓋𝑒𝑙.𝑐𝘰𝑚

Yet, the similarities almost stopped there.

The sleeveless cultivator had a rough face and wild, short black hair. His small eyes were dark and intense, perfectly reflecting whatever emotion ran through his mind. He wasn’t too tall, but his frame was quite burly.

Instead, the elegant cultivator had sharp facial features, long brown hair half-up and half-down, his topknot featuring a fancy white hairpin. His eyes were big, calm, and blue, and he looked quite tall and lean.

The only other exception was that both rooting experts seemed capable. Liam felt it in his guts. He didn’t know what he had smelled, but he believed the two weren’t strangers to winning fights.

"Master William," Lancelot called before the banter could degenerate. "What about you? Do you have any reservations about hurting the Church?"

"No," Liam bluntly replied, holding back the rest of his answer. The way he saw it, if the Church truly worked for the Dragon King, destroying its sacred ground was only fair.

"I knew you wouldn’t disappoint!" Lancelot cried, glancing at the sleeveless cultivator. "It’s three against one."

"I was never against it!" The sleeveless cultivator snorted. "I only wanted to be informed first."

"We are in agreement then," Lancelot exclaimed, pointing at the pillows on the other side of the short table. "Master William, sit and drink. It’s time for introductions."

Liam complied, with Lancelot sliding a jug toward him, which he poured into an available cup. He tasted the wine, which turned out to be far worse than Grace’s, but still pleasant enough to prevent him from outright rejecting it.

"This is Fellow Daoist Robert," Lancelot announced, pointing at the sleeveless cultivator. "I met him while traveling through the wilds, and the fight he put up showed me that our encounter was fateful."

Robert merely snorted and grabbed his full cup, emptying it in one gulp.

"This is Fellow Daoist Julian," Lancelot continued, pointing at the other rooting expert. "We met in one of the Messengers Guild’s branches, and something told me to approach him. It turned out he is knowledgeable in inscriptions, so I recruited him immediately."

Julian methodically cupped his fist at Liam, and he replied in kind, intrigued at the idea that he might have met a fellow master in a different noble art.

"Everyone knows me," Lancelot laughed. "Instead, this cloaked expert is William, alchemy master, but I believe you both know him, too."

Liam didn’t get the chance to ask since Julian confirmed the matter.

"Master William, your consultancy in the Roaring Thunder Sect must have left them extremely pleased," Julian declared. "It rarely happens that a Sect goes out of its way to praise external forces, especially individuals."

"Is the Sect making a play at the inheritance through you?" Robert asked. "That doesn’t fill me with trust, just like your hood doesn’t."

Liam had focused on cultivating during the carriage’s trip, leaving everything about the outside world to Grace. Yet, three weeks were an eternity in the cultivation world when it came to the spreading of news.

The fact that the Roaring Thunder Sect had shared the news on purpose also took Liam aback, but its reasons were quite obvious in his mind.

First, there was no way of hiding the Sect’s hospitality. Those forces had plenty of leaks, and Grace had often met with other merchants outside the Sect’s perimeter.

Actively sharing the news was the Sect’s way of controlling the narrative, like the Pale Moon Sect had done after Liam killed Randall and the other three in the ruins.

The Sect’s praise would also elevate the value of Liam’s products. It owned hundreds of those now, so it was in its interest to vouch for their quality in case it decided to sell them on the market that only forces at its level could access.

The news also worked as a favor. Grace’s shelves would benefit from that increased value, too, and the Sect could reinforce its relationship with Liam like that, hoping it delivered huge returns in the future.

Still, more than politics, Liam focused on Robert’s statement.

’I am very far away now,’ Liam acknowledged.

At that point, Liam was a few months away from the Pale Moon Sect’s neighborhood, at least when it came to carriages. That wasn’t a great distance for cultivators, but much stood in between.

Areas of influence might have ethereal boundaries, but everyone respected them. Chances were that, despite being physically able to get to Liam, the Pale Moon Sect couldn’t without causing a political mess.

Besides, Robert had been right. A team required trust.

’As long as it’s just here,’ Liam thought, lowering his hood, knowing that Grace needed plausible deniability in case something happened in the inheritance. ’And I can’t really hide my face forever. I already failed at the tournament.’

Lancelot smiled brightly as Julian and Robert focused on Liam’s facial features, burning them into their minds.

"I recognize a woman’s touch when I see it," Lancelot nodded at Liam’s hairstyle. "Allow me to apologize. Master William, I didn’t know the enchanting Fairy was yours. I won’t overstep anymore."

Robert merely snorted, while Julian added praises. "To be such an accomplished master at your young age. Master William, I’m humbled."

"Master Julian, you honor me," Liam stuck to the pleasantries he knew.

"I’m merely an apprentice," Julian corrected, "Unworthy of the title of master. My views on the noble art of inscriptions were considered too extreme to be allowed to be paired with skills."

Liam’s gaze flickered, the comment shining light on a bigger picture.

Due to the inheritance’s problematic ownership, Lancelot had recruited unaffiliated cultivators, but Liam instinctively saw both Julian and Robert as excellent.

That achievement had added value. Developing so much despite the poorer, more ruthless environment was no easy feat. The two were like Liam, probably with complicated stories of their own that they had overcome to reach their current level.

"You might understand me," Julian continued, elegantly pouring Liam wine. "As noble as our arts are, orthodox approaches enforce artificial limits on their development."

"Alchemy is limitless," Liam declared, his Master’s teachings reinforced by the revolutionary field he had invented for him.

"We are kindred spirits then," Julian smiled, raising his cup at Liam, "For I also believe inscriptions must develop without limits."

Liam was a bit lost at the gesture, so he defaulted to imitation, lifting his cup at Julian, which seemed to satisfy him.

"Now that we are all friends," Lancelot laughed, "I’ll detail our roles."

Lancelot lifted his cup at Robert, continuing. "Robert and I will be the main fighting force. Righteous inheritances shouldn’t have deadly dangers, but battles are always a certainty."

"They’d better be," Robert exclaimed. "I wouldn’t want our masters to get all the glory."

"Julian will call most of the shots," Lancelot added, pointing his cup at the elegant cultivator. "The Church kept much hidden, but it is known that Archbishop Ignatius’ main mastery involved inscriptions. His inheritance will likely involve trials in that field."

"Fellow Daoists, I’ll do my best to meet your expectations," Julian said, bowing to the group.

"Master William will ensure that we are ready for everything," Lancelot stated, drawing a green jade from his silver sleeve. "How long will it take to concoct these?"

Lancelot slid the jade toward Liam, which he traded for the black one he had left on the table, immediately pouring his Qi into it.

A list of alchemical products became accessible to Liam’s mind, and skimming through it gave him an idea of their nature. They were of the healing kind, mostly involving Qi recovery and stamina restoration since Lancelot didn’t expect anyone to be gravely injured.

"Three days," Liam calculated, "But I currently lack the ingredients."

The list took into consideration the team’s numbers, which were nothing compared to what Liam had just fulfilled. Yet, ingredients were also the only thing that the Roaring Thunder Sect had failed to provide, leaving Liam with just enough sets for himself.

"Sister Isabel is purchasing them as we speak," Lancelot explained. "Is anything else missing? I’ll finance whatever you may lack."

The wealth of a Head Disciple from a Sect near the Inner Circles didn’t fail to surprise Liam, but he simply shook his head. As long as he received the ingredients, he could concoct anywhere.

"Everything is settled then!" Lancelot declared. "Once Master William completes our preparations, we’ll depart to claim the inheritance!"