Chapter 405: Seclusion
Alchemy had a way of making Liam forget about everything. His mind pushed away anything that didn’t involve that noble art, turning him into a gear inside a higher process.
However, it wasn’t just emptiness. While Liam’s mind could find respite in the absence of emotional distress and life’s intricacies, alchemy still acted as a sort of mirror.
Just like the ingredients, the alchemist had specific features, predispositions, and sheer nature. The way Liam concocted opened a window into his understanding of life, how he perceived and reacted to it, which had expanded immensely after the inheritance.
Concoctions that Liam had performed a hundred times over now looked different, broader. No new details stood out, but he saw deeper aspects to each variable.
It was like throwing a pebble into a lake. An inexperienced eye would only see the splash and ripples. However, an expert would know that the body of water’s level had risen, no matter how slightly.
It was nothing short of a deeper insight into what most would consider ordinary aspects of the world unworthy of second looks. In short, it was wisdom.
The newfound pride, Liam’s behavior inside the inheritance, and the unexpected situation with Grace had all become fuel for his wisdom, which translated into a deeper understanding of the problems that could arise during concoctions, allowing him to find better, swifter solutions.
That translated into a lighter mental burden, shorter concoctions, and higher-quality products, but nothing could save Liam from the sheer weight of what he had set out to do.
Time lost all meaning. Days, weeks, and even months stopped existing as concepts. Liam immersed himself in alchemy in body, mind, and soul, drowning in it, his entire existence becoming a mere tool ruled by his physical limits.
Liam concocted, collapsed, and concocted again. He made full use of his smoking habit to shorten the breaks, but that was a mindless action his brain barely recorded.
Like that, four months passed.
Sweetness permeated Liam’s deep sleep until his groggy mind finally decided to awaken. A weariness stemming from his very soul afflicted him, delaying the entire process.
Liam felt sick, reduced to a sluggish bag of bones. His eyelids were heavy, and only hazy scenes landed in his eyes when he successfully opened them, his brain unable to process them, sending splitting headaches whenever he tried to force it.
It took Liam several minutes to truly wake up, but his weakness didn’t recede. He felt brittle and worn out, like a piece of paper that had been folded too many times and was unable to return to its original shape.
Liam knew that feeling very well, but it was the worst it had ever hit him. He needed true, genuine rest, but that couldn’t happen, not yet.
Also, things weren’t all bad.
Liam immersed his nose in the brown hair resting on his arm, caressing the familiar, small back below, happy that it had found its way into his embrace.
The many collapses meant many opportunities for Grace to slip between Liam’s arms. It had actually become the norm for him to wake up with her there, and he had stopped opposing it, instead bathing in the soothing experience.
Having Grace there also meant that nothing had happened to her in the meantime.
Liam waited a few more minutes before pulling back his free arm, bringing his palm to Grace’s waist. He felt her fingers caress his bare torso, but his attention shifted to the small tinge of Qi he had sent into her core.
The pulsating, reddish canvas filled Liam’s vision. He saw Grace’s pale cultivation, forcing his sluggish mind to count her minor roots.
There were no incomplete protuberances anymore. Grace had twenty-five fully developed minor roots. She had reached the peak of the rooting stage and could move to the breakthrough.
Of course, that was for Liam to handle, but it would have to wait. He had started experimenting in that field, even achieving successes, but that was about Grace, so he wanted to be as certain as possible.
The breakthroughs became harder and more dangerous at higher stages. Even Simon, a core disciple with a Sect’s support, had failed to enter the branching stage at his first attempt, injuring himself in the process.
Liam wanted every condition to be perfect in Grace’s case, including his presence, which he couldn’t give, not yet.
A groan escaped Liam’s mouth as he retracted his hand and pulled himself up, careful that the painful clanging in his mind didn’t translate into harsh moves.
Grace was obviously awake. She rolled onto her back as Liam retrieved his arm from under her head, but the two exchanged a look, and his hand stopped on her cheek.
There were no words. The two didn’t need any. Liam just caressed Grace’s cheek with his thumb while she ran her hand over his arm. They both knew what was in their minds. They were both aware of their feelings, but the time to take that step hadn’t arrived yet.
Liam’s thumb eventually brushed over Grace’s lips before he forced himself to stand. He supported himself on the white cauldron next to his mat, his balance improving as he reached the hall’s corner.
The clutter of ingredients was no more. Liam had gone through everything and had even refilled his personal stashes to a satisfying amount, and things didn’t stop there.
A pile of spirit stones rested on the floor, and Liam stored it while taking out his pipe. The poisonous powder hardly had any effect anymore, at least when it came to his growth, but he had arranged everything so that the batch would end exactly now.
Liam didn’t know what would become of him next, but he was certain his nutrients would need significant improvements.
Liam’s attention shifted to his space-rings, which were uncharacteristically empty. Grace had finished unloading the inheritance. The last items probably were up for auction in Mairis right now, but that didn’t imply poverty, far from it.
The spirit stones were the most cumbersome aspect of Liam’s current belongings. He had over seven hundred thousand of them, making him rich beyond his wildest imagination.
Parts of Archbishop Ignatius’ inheritance were still there, too. Liam had kept the life-saving hairpin, alchemy-related tools, items to live comfortably in the wilds, and everything in the third rank.
There were also clothes Grace had bought for Liam, but it was his collection of alchemical products that brought him some pride.
A big part of the seclusion had been about improving as an alchemist. Liam had abused his Master’s extreme training regimen to become perfect with rank 2 concoctions.
Some recipes were still missing. Liam hadn’t had the time or ingredients to master every single one of them, but he had made incredible progress, and his accumulation showed it.
Excluding the inheritance’s products, anything involving Grace’s breakthrough, and the recovery-oriented stash, Liam’s arsenal finally matched what he had dreamt of ever since leaving the Pale Moon Sect.
Liam now had a complete array of poisons. He had also improved all his previous creations and created antidotes, on top of making what he planned to use in a few hours.
Lastly, Liam had sets of body-enhancing pills that imitated the Primal Urge’s effects. They weren’t as self-destructive as the Boiling Blood Pill, but they existed in the same ballpark.
With that, Liam could finally fight as a proper alchemist, a poison master, and a son of an Ancestral Beast.
Liam inhaled once more, only for no poison to enter his lungs. The last of his powder was gone, sending his attention to his dantian.
Despite the plenty of smoking breaks during those four months, Liam only saw twenty-five fully developed minor roots. His growth had slowed down to a crawl, but he had prepared for that. He actually worried more about what he would have to do afterward.
Liam ignored those future issues and summoned a small, Qi-enhanced case. Yellow powder filled it, and he carefully placed the pipe inside. He wouldn’t use it for a while, so he would put it through the Alchemical Refinement in the meantime.
Then, Liam turned to address the eyes that hadn’t left him ever since he woke up. Grace had sat up and had followed his every move, a question in her worried expression.
Liam nodded, and Grace suppressed a sigh, showing a small smile instead. She used her tablet to open a passage in the wall before Liam, and he stored everything before approaching it.
Once Liam was at the passage’s edge, he threw another look at Grace, his gaze carrying worry and much more. Her smile sweetened, but she forced herself to nod, her gesture conveying an entire conversation.
Liam would leave Grace truly alone for a while now, but she just showed support.
The passage rose until Liam resurfaced in a white environment. He had spent the entirety of autumn in isolation, and winter was now in full force, colder than anything he had ever experienced.
Still, Liam didn’t cover himself. His Qi fended off the cold, and he didn’t know what would become of his clothes anyway.
The passage closed behind Liam as he advanced toward the mountain rising from that hiding spot. He didn’t run, but his steps covered a lot of distance anyway, soon leading him into the snowy forest over the slope.
The slope grew steeper, but Liam kept climbing. His senses sent warning signals from every direction, but he didn’t stop. He was entering the magical beasts’ domain and needed to delve deeper.
That was a matter of safety, for both Liam and Grace, since he didn’t know what his creation would actually cause.
At some point, Liam stopped. The night shrouded everything in darkness, but he turned his head to his right, staring at a branch and the almost two-meter-tall silhouette resting on it.
The darkness couldn’t stop Liam from seeing. The silhouette belonged to a huge, bulky owl, its feathers white, its hungry eyes pointed at him. It was a rank 2 magical beast, a predator deciding whether Liam was prey.
Liam hissed, maintaining his position, instincts from his lineage and his upbringing blending to create a primal contest between predators.
It was unclear what the owl saw, but it spread its wings and flew away, not knowing that its decision had probably saved its life. After all, that environment was about to transform into something it couldn’t survive.
Liam followed the owl’s departure for a while before looking down the slope. He had made it quite far into the mountain, so he summoned an item that filled him with both expectation and dread.
A black, round flask appeared in Liam’s hand, making his skin crawl. He felt attracted to it, but his fear couldn’t subside. Poison was his nourishment, but it could also be his doom, especially in that shape.
After all, the flask contained the best poison Liam had ever made, a different iteration of the Master’s Pride, the culmination of his recent seclusion.
Liam genuinely didn’t know if he could survive that poison, but slow and steady wasn’t sustainable anymore. It depleted too many resources that had to be carefully managed.
Also, things had steadily gotten more dangerous, so Liam needed something bolder to change his standing drastically, which meant something dangerous.
Liam only wasted a second looking at the flask before pouring its contents into the snow. A sizzling noise spread through the night as the poison dug through the white layer, reaching the ground underneath.
Snow quickly receded in a circular manner, leaving Liam in an expanding patch of frozen ground. Black stains were afflicting the soil, eventually melting it, turning it into mud that leaked dark-green fumes.
Liam inhaled the fumes, and his throat stopped working. The veins on his neck bulged as he held it, trying and failing to breathe.
Dizziness came next. Liam fell to his knees, his face contorting in pain and struggle, before even that hit the ground, splashing mud over his cheek.
Liam couldn’t see what happened next since his vision went dark.
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