Legacy of Hatred

Liam couldn’t possibly forget Julian, and that wasn’t just about his betrayal. He was one of the few fellow rooting experts who had given Liam a proper fight, a true elite, and an inscription master on top of that.

Despite the physical changes, Julian’s aura was the detail that stood out the most, especially due to its divergence from Liam’s memory.

Julian had always been poised and upright, and that hadn’t changed, but his presence felt wilder now, chaotic in a bad way. His being looked unstable, as if barely held together.

There was also a vague sense of recognition, one that Liam had smelled few times in his life. It wasn’t intense enough to trigger any proper reaction, but it was there, adding to the strangeness of the situation.

Liam could have guessed that the Church of the Man would have exploited Julian’s inscription skills once his role as an informant was exhausted. However, he had also left him as a walking corpse, but there he was, a rooting expert seemingly at the peak of his ability, stronger than what he had once been.

The answers to the impending sense of doom had arrived. The Church was involved in whatever was happening, and Liam could learn much by indulging Julian, but no such thing happened.

Julian had proven himself a hindrance in Liam’s life, opposing him before hurting him with the secrets he had shared. The mess with Adrian wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for him. Liam and Grace wouldn’t have had to live like that, and he only knew one answer to that.

At ninety-six minor roots, Liam could unleash thousands of rank 2 martial arts and still have energy to spare. What his body could withstand was also unheard of, so unleashing six Lightning Steps in a row barely applied any pressure on him.

Normally, Liam would have gone for the rank 3 Defying Stomp directly, but everything about the situation felt too wrong to reveal his trump cards so early. Besides, no rooting expert could hope to be his match now.

No noise resounded when Liam reached Julian, but his swing was stopped nonetheless. Despite his great speed and the sheer might of his blow, long strips of white cloth carrying blood-red symbols had wrapped themselves around the descending greatsword, freezing it above Julian’s head.

"I’m disappointed to see that you seem to have forsaken alchemy," Julian commented, not even glancing at the hulking embodiment of death above him. "Master William, I thought we were kindred-"

Julian didn’t finish his line since he spotted the circular item between Liam’s teeth. The latter crushed the pill, and blood spilled.

Torn pieces of white cloth flew everywhere as Julian flew back onto a circular platform, his usually calm eyes wide in shock, a gory gap separating his right shoulder from his neck. His skin glowed red, hinting at a defensive technique, but that had only served to save his life.

Nevertheless, shock couldn’t stop Julian. Tens of flying items materialized alongside his retreat. Knives, hexagonal shields, and tentacle-like cloth filled the sky, their glowing inscriptions painting the night red, but someone was already flying through them.

Liam had faced and overcome worse when he was far weaker. He had pierced through the Church’s battle formation in the inheritance’s core when he had little over ten minor roots.

With the rank 3 fan, impossible talent almost fulfilled, and body-enhancing pill, Liam was nothing short of a legendary monster among rooting experts. No matter what fancy, powerful, or intricate methods they used, he would always see them as slow.

Just as branching experts experienced and lived life at a faster pace, Liam’s quasi-stage created a similar advantage against rooting experts, and things didn’t end there. After all, he hadn’t let his inborn edge make him complacent. He had maximized it.

Liam saw a rhythm in the scene, a pace no different than breathing. Knives shot at him, shields hindered his path, and cloth hovered among the arrangement, ready to snap at him and trap his limbs.

There was mastery in that arrangement. Julian had summoned a proper battle formation despite Liam’s unexpected and abrupt power, theoretically creating a barrier with no gaps.

However, nothing in the world was created with someone like Liam in mind, be it techniques or shields. Even the most perfect defensive formation couldn’t take into account the path only he could tread.

The fan’s basic speed was enough to dodge the incoming magical items. Liam ricocheted through the defensive formation, gaining ground on the retreating Julian, only for the trap to manifest itself.

While Liam was faster, the defensive formation’s purpose was to create a dead end, which manifested in the shape of a hexagonal shield surrounded by hovering cloth.

Liam was already there. He was going too fast to avoid clashing with the shield, and any attempt to retreat would put him back among the magical items he had just crossed, leaving him in a predicament that could only worsen.

The hexagonal shield was also special. Liam remembered as much. It could send back the energy that landed on it. It was even resilient enough to stop Liam for a fraction of a second, enough for the defensive formation to collapse on him.

At least, that was the theory, and the theory was wrong.

There was no hindrance in Liam’s vision, at least nothing that could be classified as such. He headed straight for the shield and punched it with his free hand. With the Metal Hand’s conditioning, the body-enhancing pill, and the current speed, the magical item directly exploded into a storm of metal shards.

And then, Liam saw it. As the path cleared and he was able to look at Julian, he spotted the shock-induced defenselessness, the tiny window in which his opponent wouldn’t be able to do anything.

Liam didn’t even need to rely on the fan’s ability there. He just kept flying, swinging his huge weapon horizontally. The attack perfectly matched his arrival to Julian, hitting his left side, cutting through the white mantle, only for him to see black fur.

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