Chapter 227: Army |
Liam had no words to describe what he had just witnessed and endured. His understanding of the higher cultivation stages had transformed through clues he had been unable to follow.
It was as if Liam had just learned that gods existed, only to see one of them fall.
"Master!" Liam called, jumping out of the branches, disregarding the many holes and scrapes on his sleeves and arms to reach the Alchemy Elder.
Yet, when Liam reached his Master, he was greeted by a familiar pain.
Liam couldn’t find the strength to be shocked. His Master might have deemed the greatest fight he had ever witnessed as minor, but his complexion was far from convincing. Even the cut on his cheek still released blood.
"Master, wait!" Liam gasped. "What about Senior Sister Anastasia? What about the other disciples?"
Liam couldn’t argue with that. His Master and Elder Basil had unleashed the literal apocalypse. Chances were the Evergreen Canyon couldn’t hide that, but another thought suddenly popped into his mind.
"Can we...," Liam hesitantly asked, pointing at the corpse under him, "Loot him?"
And, surprisingly, the Alchemy Elder chuckled, wearing a rare genuine smile.
"Don’t breathe just yet," The Alchemy Elder ordered, and the world changed once again.
By the time the afternoon was closer to the night than to midday, the Elder stopped resorting to sprints that only someone at his level could perform. Liam could catch a breath, gasping loudly, until his dizziness receded enough for him to inspect his surroundings.
Meanwhile, a relatively flat grassland expanded behind Liam and everywhere else. A river even cut through it, but the unfamiliarity remained, and only looking at the horizon uncovered a familiar landmark.
For some reason, the Elder had brought Liam further west than he had ever been, way past the outermost Outer Circle. That wasn’t the direction of the Pale Moon Sect, or any of the six neighboring Sects, for that matter.
Liam looked up at the Elder, but he kept his caved-in face lowered, something akin to resolute helplessness filling his expression. Horace even sighed, gulping before straightening himself and speaking without meeting Liam’s gaze.
Liam blinked. His ears had stopped buzzing. Even the hiss had finally waned, but he struggled to understand what had reached them.
"This incident is too great," Horace explained. "It will warrant the arrival of external investigators. Much will come to light, and my intervention will involve you in it."
It was unclear how many hooded cultivators the Sects would intercept. Liam didn’t even know what they might reveal. However, his Master’s involvement had been suspicious, and that would bring the investigation to Liam.
Liam had been ready for that moment, or rather, he believed he had been. He had always known that he would have needed to leave the Pale Moon Sect. Still, now that the time had arrived, a childish unwillingness rose through him.
The Elder finally turned toward Liam, but to hit him. However, this time he had used his hand instead of his sleeve, slapping him.
"Don’t be a fool!" Horace scolded. "Do you think being the son of the Ancestral Snake is a joke?! They’d tear your foundation root from root and cut your bones to pieces to use your marrow to find anyone remotely connected to your bloodline!"
Also, Liam saw something else. His Master had never explicitly said what he was, and he had never shared that information. They were under the explicit agreement not to voice such things to remain safe from investigative methods.
"But-!" Liam instinctively gasped.
"Dragon...s?" Liam asked.
Honestly, Liam had no idea how to take the news among the rollercoaster of emotions he was experiencing, but a memory did resurface.
"That’s what you are up against!" Horace declared, joining his hands to do something. "So, you can’t leave anything to chance. Get as far away from here as you can. Change your name. Don’t even claim to be my disciple!"
Horace sighed, but he couldn’t bring himself to scold Liam. That resolve made him proud to have found such a perfect disciple, but that was exactly why he had to ensure his survival.
Horace retracted his hand, and Liam inspected his palm, finding a black ring in it.
That was a request more than an order, which weighed more on Liam’s chest. He wanted nothing more than to reject it, but his gritted teeth eventually leaked the opposite.
"Good," Horace nodded, smiling, stepping back. "Now, go, and don’t bind that until three days have passed. Just focus on running."
"Master, what about you?" Liam wondered. "And Melissa?"
Liam didn’t know why, but he felt the strange urge to chuckle despite not feeling any happiness.
A complicated expression appeared on the Alchemy Elder’s face, culminating in a sigh. "I won’t promise it will be easy, but if the Heavens will it, you’ll meet again."
"What don’t you understand about taking care of everything?!" Horace cried. "Don’t forget that you have to be alive to hope to meet her again!"
Horace knew he was burdening Liam with a lot already, so he didn’t add the truth to that weight.
Liam didn’t want the conversation to be over, but it was, so he got to his knees, performing a single kowtow accompanied by the politest tone he could muster.
As for Horace, he followed Liam’s departure until he was far enough away to relax. A trail of blood fell from the corner of his mouth at that point, but he calmly wiped it off as a genuine wish resounded in his mind.