Legacy of Hatred-Chapter 161: Cloak

Before night could arrive, Liam found himself in a carriage again. He had barely returned to the Pale Moon Sect, only for his grumpy Master to drag him back out, leaving him with many unanswered questions he could finally voice.

"Master," Liam called, recovering from that stunning development. "Are we really going to the Crimson Warrior Sect?"

"Obviously!" The Alchemy Elder scoffed, sitting cross-legged in front of Liam. "I, Horace Rauret, shall not suffer the shame of letting insults go unanswered!"

Liam’s confusion didn’t wane, prompting him to probe more. "But, Master, I killed Senior Cecilia already."

"Ah!" The Elder snorted. "This matter is beyond one puny rooting expert. I must address the Crimson Warrior Sect’s failure to educate its disciples about the great Horace Rauret."

’He really likes his name today,’ Liam commented in his mind while considering another point.

Liam had considered extending his enmity to the neighboring Sects, especially the Crimson Warrior Sect, due to their collusion. Still, he had lacked the strength to do so, limiting his response to survival and proactive killing.

Yet, the Alchemy Elder was no mere foundation expert. His level and, especially, status enabled him to do far more, maybe even affect entire Sects, and Liam wanted to see exactly how.

’But won’t the Crimson Warrior Sect have a Sect Leader as strong as ours?’ Liam wondered. ’Is Master more important than a Sect Leader despite being weaker?’

Liam trusted his Master enough to avoid worrying and mentioning that doubt. He would see how everything unfolded anyway.

However, Liam couldn’t stay silent before the other odd detail in that whole matter, which became emblematic when he felt like smoking.

"Master," Liam called, lifting his arms to highlight his quite oversized sleeves. "Why are we wearing these?"

During the hurried departure, Liam had somehow found himself wearing a black cloak above his new pale-grey robe. The clothing was thin, offering no protection against the cold, but reached his feet, covered his hands, and even featured a hood.

The Alchemy Elder wore an identical cloak, his hands joined under the large sleeves. Even his hood was up, hiding most of his features.

"These are often worn by alchemical masters with ill intentions," The Elder declared. "Poison masters, especially, wear these to inspire fear out of the insidious methods hidden underneath."

That reasoning played into what the Elder had previously taught Liam about sleeves, taking it one step further, while also confirming his ill intentions toward the Crimson Warrior Sect.

’It does provide more room to hide stuff,’ Liam acknowledged, retrieving his pipe now. ’But isn’t a space-ring better? It is less immediate, though.’

The healing pill was doing wonders. Liam’s right elbow had completely recovered, and the remaining soothing energy was now addressing his fingers. It seemed he would be fully healed by the next morning.

Yet, the still-injured state led to a clumsy ignition of the pipe. The Alchemy Elder didn’t miss that from under his hood, addressing it once Liam peeked out of the curtains to smoke.

"Do not see my leeway as agreement," The Elder warned. "It’s wiser for you to focus on poison to achieve the safety of the superior stage, but I won’t let such a narrow approach stand afterward."

The Elder had always been quite vehement about the completeness of Liam’s alchemical education. Liam also agreed with it, and the mission had only reinforced that belief.

"Master, I want to learn to concoct healing pills next," Liam nodded, blowing dark smoke out of the curtains. "I also want to study the body-enhancing branch afterward."

The Elder internally nodded in approval. Despite Liam’s young age, he didn’t let his excitement degenerate into stupidity. His strategy was on point, even prioritizing his most glaring alchemical flaws.

"Once I get more ingredients," Liam continued, "I will work on healing pills between the concoctions for the rank 1 poison for the breakthrough."

That was one of Liam’s most praiseworthy traits, a deciding factor behind the Elder accepting him as a disciple. Liam simply never stopped, deploying all his higher stamina into his training.

Of course, Liam’s situation demanded that. His talent attracted too many enemies for him to be comfortable doing nothing.

Nevertheless, the Elder now knew how Liam’s brain worked. That dedication wasn’t circumstantial. It was his norm, and no amount of appealing external inputs could distract him.

Liam had his priorities straight so radically that he preferred looking at a dull cauldron rather than the beautiful woman always beside him, which was obviously good. Yet, the Elder worried it could go too far.

The greatest sword would crack before seeing a battle if its wielder didn’t know when to stop sharpening it.

In the same way, Liam risked snapping and burning himself out. Breaks were necessary, and they had to be fulfilling to add value to strenuous efforts. More training simply made for a poor reward.

Moreover, the issue had a more human aspect. Alchemy indeed demanded endless practice, but it also needed a level of enlightenment, especially for high-ranking concoctions.

That enlightenment could only come from a developed brain, wielding wisdom born from experience, which Liam lacked and would continue to do so as long as he lived life in such a narrow manner.

That, or the Elder’s growing affection for Liam was blinding him, and the great Horace Rauret obviously couldn’t believe he had fallen for such a trap.

"No, disciple, only focus on poison while approaching the breakthrough," The Elder said. "Such a dangerous process must demand your undivided attention."

Liam finished smoking and returned in front of the Elder, immediately accepting that order. It wasn’t only that Liam trusted him. Simon’s state also acted as a cautionary tale.

"Work on different poisons instead," The Elder continued. "It will expand your general expertise in the field, and you’ll be able to apply it to Elder Logan’s weapon training."

Liam had obviously shared his list of requested rewards with his Master to receive feedback, and the latter had approved it.

"As for the weapons themselves," The Elder added. "Knives and arrows are suitable, but you can implement more insidious tools like metal needles. Poison masters only need to inflict superficial injuries to achieve victory." 𝒻𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝘯𝘰𝑣ℯ𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝘮

That was a great idea that Liam didn’t hesitate to note down. He had yet to see what the Sect would actually award him, but he was bound to know once he returned.

"Master, should we start the lesson?" Liam suggested, itching to begin training.

"Focus on fixing your hands first, foolish disciple," The Elder refused, even closing his eyes. "How do you expect to practice alchemy with those fingers?"

"But, Master," Liam complained, frowning since he had meant his suggestion for theory rather than practice. "Didn’t you say that I must know how to concoct no matter the distraction?"

"I know what I said," The Elder snorted. "And now I’m saying to heal. You’ll have plenty of opportunities to concoct with broken fingers and more, but you should strive for utmost perfection when you can."

That sort of made sense, so Liam didn’t think too much of it. He was indeed still recovering, especially spiritually. Too much, both good and bad, had unfolded for him to have a clear mind.

"And once we get back," The Elder continued. "Don’t seclude yourself immediately. Approach the breakthrough gradually and carefully. Only cut everything else when you are ready."

Liam had planned to do that already. He still had the Disciplinary Elder’s combat lessons to attend anyway, so the order led to some doubts.

If Liam didn’t know any better, he would think his Master wanted him to rest and enjoy life before tackling his bottleneck.

"Maybe spend more time with Disciple Melissa, too," The Elder suggested. "It might annoy that core disciple into committing a mistake. You could also use the opportunity to ask if she is a boar."

Liam frowned as bashful memories filled his brain. The previous interaction had taught him much more about Melissa, fueling his imagination way beyond a single, improper picture.

Also, the hug and kiss might have cleared Liam’s doubts about what they would feel like, only to expand into far broader and deeper desires.

Instead of fulfilling Liam and ending the topic, the experience had let loose far more thoughts and ideas he couldn’t even put into words.

’Next time,’ Liam decided. ’For sure, next time I’ll ask her properly instead of doing something even stranger.’

That was more of a promise, which threatened to take over Liam’s brain, but he suppressed those thoughts by closing his eyes and crossing his legs.

The Alchemy Elder might have refused to have the usual lessons, but Liam could still work on his circulation technique, making good use of that limited environment.