With certainty came clarity. The shape of Liam’s enemy grew more detailed in his mind, creating a picture that could make anyone give up on life entirely.

At first, Liam’s revenge had been limited to the four butchers and their leader, and two of those were now dead, one killed directly while the other taken by the Screening.

However, that small goal had expanded beyond what most cultivators would dare to conceive. It now included a being so mighty that the world had bowed to his Perfection, commanding a whole army of creatures like him.

And that would have still been fine. The odds were impossible but also distant, limited to the Inner Circles, which Liam planned to reach only once he was strong enough to contend with the monsters they hosted.

But the enemy had expanded again. Adding the Church was akin to gaining countless, all-reaching limbs, like tentacles that could spread to the furthest reaches of the Kingdom, leaving no safe space available.

And to make things worse, Liam wouldn’t be the only one aware of that enmity now. As the spirit had said, the Church might actively pursue Liam once he left the inheritance.

Liam’s predicament had gone from terrible to hopeless, especially due to the deeper, unsolvable nature of that enmity from both sides. Still, he didn’t worry about himself just yet.

With everything clarified, Liam’s first thoughts went to Lancelot. Everything about that famous genius was problematic, with the fact that Liam believed his claim to take the crown.

The root cause didn’t really matter. Liam didn’t feel it was something as superficial as wanting to have fun, but the conclusion wouldn’t change even in that case.

Lancelot had proven himself trustworthy, a true ally to the point that he had instantly decided to join Liam’s quest despite not knowing any of the specifics.

That was beyond what anyone else had done in Liam’s life. Lancelot wanted to fight Liam’s enemy, and his mere intention to do so already created an immense debt of gratitude, completely flicking a switch.

Liam had no half-measures. Either he cared, or he didn’t, and Lancelot undoubtedly belonged to the former now, meaning he didn’t want to get him involved in such great dangers.

"Brother," Liam called, keeping his gaze down. "This isn’t your battle. You don’t have to take on such dangers because of me."

Grace was different. In a way, her goals aligned with Liam’s. They both had to fight the world to reach the end of their journeys. Liam hadn’t even planned to involve her in the chaos that was his life. It had just happened.

Instead, Lancelot had a perfect life. He had even said so himself, and he would risk throwing it all away over something the ghost had decided to share without Liam’s consent.

But, as Liam had already learned and been forced to accept, he couldn’t stop people from wanting to protect him, too.

"Brother, you just did that for me," Lancelot pointed out, leaning down to enter Liam’s vision. "And my passion tells me that you would have done the same if our roles were reversed."

Liam was starting to hate the descendants of the Phoenix’s ability to read his character, but he couldn’t deny it. He would indeed have done the same for Lancelot. He wouldn’t have even considered not helping him.

"You can’t be loud about this," Liam sighed, giving in. "I’ve tried to be careful, but I’m becoming more famous, and people have seen my face. They are also bound to connect us since everyone will look into our team now."

Liam could be a random cloaked expert in the eyes of many, but he knew that was a stretch. Even the attendant in Kilrest’s brothel was aware of his fake name.

The plausible deniability could only exist as long as people were willing to turn a blind eye to the matter, which might not happen with an enemy like the Church as part of the equation.

"I might also get discovered on my own," Liam continued, straightening his head to look meaningfully at Lancelot. "The cultivation world is vast and diverse. There could be methods to reveal who I am, even if I don’t make mistakes."

That last part was actually a certainty. After all, the Bloodline Screening had done just that.

"So," Liam said, "For you not to get involved ..."

Liam had an idea on how to protect Lancelot if the worst were to happen. It was vague, a bit naive, and that definitely didn’t play to Liam’s strengths. Yet, Lancelot beat him to it, and with the same strategy, too.

"I’ll take all the blame," Lancelot declared, crossing his arms. "I’ll say that only I claimed the inheritance so that no one will look into you. Many will believe it without question."

Liam opened his mouth but didn’t speak. He wanted to do exactly that, just by being the one taking the blame. That way, Lancelot could deny any involvement. He would even have the perfect excuse to fake an enmity with Liam, removing himself from the list of suspects.

Yet, the lie would indeed work better if Lancelot said it. He was famously a genius, one known throughout the Kingdom. He was the perfect candidate for overcoming a challenge that had remained undefeated for centuries.

Everyone would take that fake story as true. Honestly, even Liam would have believed it if he were an external party.

The only issue with that strategy was the heat Lancelot would catch, but he didn’t address the matter, instead moving to a still relatively unclear topic.

"Your Excellency," Lancelot called, addressing the spirit, seemingly having no need for explanations about his nature or identity. "We did claim the inheritance, haven’t we?"

The spirit had said so, but the achievement remained unclear. Liam and Lancelot had yet to see any rewards, and that important conversation had derailed them from the main reason behind that mission.

And to answer, the spirit slowly waved his long sleeve, the hall transforming alongside that gesture. White light took over the area, replacing the garden with piles of containers, tomes, and disparate items, their total number far above a hundred.