Chapter 358: Tantrum |
At first, Liam felt some fondness. That was exactly how his Master hit him, and it had been so long since that reassuring cane had landed on his head.
However, pain came next. Horace’s cane had always hurt, but never as much as the fan, and the latter didn’t even stop there.
Foreign anger invaded Liam’s mind as the fan swung repeatedly at his head, eventually forcing him to raise his arms to defend himself, which did little against a flying item.
The fan circled Liam and swung at his openings, assaulting him in a very unfriendly manner. Nothing ever bled, but Liam could swear bruises were already forming.
"Wait, wait!" Liam said, not really thinking about the fact that he was trying to talk with a literal fan.
Nevertheless, the fan reacted, albeit not to words. Whatever Liam had said, his intentions had carried through the mental connection in a way that the magical item understood.
A metallic, deep ring resounded behind Liam as the assault stopped. Liam turned, cautious, his arms ready to shield him, stretching in both reassurance and to put some distance when he saw the unfolded fan floating vertically.
’I bound it, right?’ Liam wondered, only for the knife to half-turn at that thought, releasing a clanging ring.
Liam blinked, not in confusion for once. He just had no idea how to react to the fact that the ring had somewhat made sense in his mind. It was undoubtedly a scoff.
And the fan responded by darting at Liam at incredible speed to slap his head again. Foreign annoyance joined the abrupt action, conveying a meaning he could understand. It seemed the item had felt insulted at such an unnecessary question.
But Liam was done being a punching bag. As soon as the pain spread, his hands snapped up, closing on the fan’s handle.
"Got you," Liam exclaimed, feeling the cold of the metal, only for foreign derision to spread in his mind.
Before Liam knew it, his feet left the floor. The fan lifted his figure, slamming him against the ceiling, and not even considering stopping there.
Liam clung to the fan while ricocheting through the room, the item slamming him against every surface available, even turning him upside down at times. The process looked effortless, but Liam ended it with the simplest action at his disposal.
The fan suddenly disappeared, going back into the white ring, while Liam landed belly-first on the floor, sliding over it due to the accumulated momentum.
Liam checked the space-ring while still sliding, worried that the fan could damage the items inside, but nothing of the sort happened.
The fan simply went back to its container on its own, sending something akin to sticking out its tongue through the mental connection, before going completely silent.
’It can make me fly,’ Liam thought, ’I guess.’
Liam sat up, scratching the side of his head, groaning at the bruises there. The binding had succeeded, but it was unclear whether he could call that a success.
It was also strange. Despite everything, the fan hadn’t actually conveyed any malice, either through the mental connection or its actions. It had seven sharp blades after all, so it could have done far more than just slapping and dragging Liam around.
Rather than a straight-up rebellion, the fan’s behavior felt similar to an almost-harmless tantrum, which Liam didn’t really know how to handle. He was out of forceful methods, too, and he wasn’t sure he would use them since the item had held back.
’Maybe it will be easier to control once I get stronger,’ Liam considered. ’I am still a rooting expert after all.’
Liam wasn’t too convinced about the matter, but he could only approach the issue with what he knew. Seizing strength was the easiest solution, so he would do exactly that.
Besides, Liam had reached the limit of what he could do immediately. His mind was too bloated to attempt binding other items, and everything else could and should wait for Grace since she would have needs of her own.
The following period went by with Liam not doing much but smoking and approaching his many new incredible techniques, mostly focusing on the former.
Realistically, there was nothing else Liam could do without ingredients, and prioritizing increasing his number of minor roots was always correct, now more than ever.
The matter involved not only sheer strength. There was the fan, but Liam mainly needed more Qi at his disposal to make use of his new tools.
All of Liam’s gains could only bear fruit if he obtained the power to wield them.
Even with those extensive smoking sessions, the immense batch prepared in the Roaring Thunder Sect endured. Liam had gone through over half already, but he would still be fine for a couple more months.
The issue was with Liam’s cultivation. His pace had been around one minor root per week when he went overboard with the pipe, but that growth slowed down. It took him ten full days to develop a new one, bringing their number to fourteen, and he wasn’t even halfway through the fifteenth when a familiar tremor rang in his mind.
Liam dropped everything he was doing and carefully left the underground room, immediately spotting and being spotted by a dark figure a few hundred meters away on the mountain’s base.
Confirmations were unnecessary for Liam. His mouth had smelled the figure’s identity as soon as he peeked out of the room, so he retreated inside it, sealing it as soon as the cloaked woman joined him.
Grace removed the cloth covering her face and lowered her hood. She had dropped her blue robe and small crown, opting for a black robe and a simple folded bun to tie her hair. That attire suggested problems with the Merchants Guild, but Grace gave Liam no time to ask.
"I asked you one thing!" Grace shouted, instantly going full scolding mode. "One single thing!"
Grace advanced, and Liam retreated. She had never looked angrier.
"Instead," Grace continued, "I had to spend an entire week hearing the most absurd things, not knowing what to do or whether you were even alive!"
Liam’s back hit the wall, but Grace didn’t stop advancing, eventually grabbing his collar.
"I kept myself in check," Grace stated, "But do you think me a fool? Do you think I won’t be able to chase you because of some flimsy fake identity, Master nine-spiritual-roots genius?!"
Liam’s eyes went wide, uttering an instinctive question. "How did you-?"
The question remained incomplete since Grace finished summoning a rank 2 sword from her ring and stabbed it into the wall, right next to Liam’s head.
"Do you want to escape me now?" Grace threatened, a crazy glint in her eyes. "You can’t. I warned you. No takebacks. You are mine forever."
The rollercoaster of emotions Liam went through was quite intense, but something else prevailed. There was fear behind Grace’s anger, and he knew where it came from, so he had to make one thing clear.
"I will never leave you alone," Liam declared, giving voice to that vow that had only existed in his mind until now.
Grace’s anger seemed to vanish on the spot. Even the dangerous glint disappeared. Her eyes went wide instead, that sudden promise startling her, even making her a bit timid due to what it could mean.
"But if you must know," Liam continued, sighing, diverting his gaze. "I don’t have nine spiritual roots. I have ten because I’m the son of the Ancestral Snake."