Envy was a powerful feeling, one that Liam had seen what could generate.

Many people, hundreds of them, had seen how much money had flown into Grace’s pockets. It was an absurd sum, one that she couldn’t just send away.

Moreover, the business practice had come at the expense of other parties who couldn’t wait for the opportunity to do something about it.

Even Liam’s value had been fully established, which wasn’t all good, especially with the rumor of his romantic entanglement with Grace.

Since Liam had preferred to oppose a branching expert over parting ways with Grace, chances were that they were inseparable. No one but her could manage that money-making machine.

There were still ways to make things hard for Grace. Her business didn’t run in a vacuum in the end. However, a simpler alternative existed, one that would be an overall loss for the cultivation world but that would also prevent her rise to power.

After all, in the cultivation world, if someone couldn’t have something, they’d rather destroy it to prevent others from benefiting from it.

So, Grace and Liam’s departure from the valley was quite hurried. Much could be built in social terms after Liam’s performance and Lancelot’s intervention, but dwelling in the area would give other parties time to shape their hostile intentions.

Some general pleasantries from Grace’s side still resounded, but the two directly returned to their carriage afterward, heading west seemingly with no care in the world.

Nevertheless, deep into the night, Grace and Liam ditched their carriage, letting it continue west while they headed north, planning to use it as a decoy.

Rooting experts could cover a lot of ground quickly when they put their minds to it, far more than mere wheels spun by horses. The winter’s cold, the snow, and the impervious environments also did little to hinder their advance.

Yet, that was true for every rooting expert. Liam and Grace weren’t special, especially when big factions made their move.

Grace led the way, displaying her knowledge of the environment, opting for remote forests, secluded valleys, and mountain paths that limited the exposure, while a black jade never left her grasp.

Much came and went from the jade. Information and orders were exchanged nonstop, altering Grace’s course, and Liam left everything to her, focusing on something else.

Just like with Grace’s jade, the pipe never left Liam’s mouth. She had her plans, which he trusted, but that didn’t mean doing nothing, especially when he knew the single best solution to whatever might arrive.

It wasn’t easy to run while the powder debilitated Liam, often attempting to make him crash at that speed, but his tolerance gradually increased, making everything more bearable.

And that trend culminated when the inevitable happened.

There was no way of remaining safe in those mostly untamed areas. Hiding in a populated zone might provide temporary cover due to the many witnesses, but it would also act as a prison and a constant tracker.

So, the run through the wilderness bought the two a full week until Liam halted his steps into a patch of trees that did nothing to hide the dim, clouded morning light.

Grace stopped, too, watching the smoke-breathing hood, until her perception caught up with the event, making her store her black jade.

Nothing seemed to move. Even the snowy ground remained still, but Grace vaguely felt it. Something was coming, getting closer until she could spot shadows darting behind the leafless trees.

Then, the shadows stepped into the open, revealing their numbers. Three rooting experts wearing black cloaks similar to Liam’s arranged themselves in a half-circle around the duo, remaining silent.

"To think someone would hire the Assassins Guild’s services," Grace declared mockingly. "And to pay for three rooting experts at that. If I had to guess, my fellow Chiefs put their money together to afford you."

"Four," Liam said under the hood, his breath mixed with black smoke.

"What?" Grace asked, glancing at Liam, only to see his arm snap at her.

An arrow had materialized behind Grace, pointing at her right shoulder, its tip merely a few centimeters from her blue robe, unable to finish crossing that distance since it stood in Liam’s grasp.

The attack wasn’t meant to be deadly. It was nothing more than a warning shot, but it made that emblem-less Guild’s intentions clear.

"What do you want?" Grace asked the trio, her face cold, refusing to show any fear.

"Half," One of the cloaked rooting expert said, his or her voice twisted, even hiding their gender. "Or your life."

"The Assassins Guild doesn’t take sides," Grace announced, ignoring the request. "Does it mean it was out of my general unpopularity that you accepted such a mission?"

The Assassins Guild was different from the others. It didn’t exist on the surface, but faction leaders knew how to request its expensive services.

Nevertheless, there were limits. Having the necessary riches didn’t mean that the Assassins Guild would accept any request. It was more of a dark, hidden side of the Enforcement Guild, managing cultivators in ways that weren’t possible publicly.

The fact that the three, or four, assassins were there meant that Grace had earned the discontent of many influential figures, namely, faction leaders from other Guilds.

That general ill will could explode into widespread chaos, which could destabilize a lot due to the level of the people involved. The Enforcement Guild couldn’t prevent it since Grace had done nothing wrong, but the Assassins could.

Of course, killing was a last resort. The idea was to limit Grace’s earnings, splitting that money equally to slow her sudden rise to power and create worthy competitors. That could be enough to bring her down a peg and leave it to her fellow Chiefs to handle the rest.

Still, no answer arrived. The Assassins Guild had announced their claim. Everything else was in Grace’s hands.

Naturally, Grace had predicted that eventuality, and the solution was simple. Paying would settle things with the Assassins Guild, allowing her to resume fighting in the public market, where she knew she would excel.

In Grace’s mind, that was merely a small setback, one that told her how big the waves she had made were. More than insulting other faction leaders, she believed the issue that had warranted that drastic response came from everything she had given lone cultivators.

After all, lone cultivators couldn’t have it too good. If they did, they might attempt to match the Guilds or stop relying on them in the short run. That just couldn’t happen. Too much was built on their desperation. 𝗳𝚛𝚎𝚎𝘄𝕖𝕓𝕟𝕠𝚟𝚎𝕝.𝗰𝕠𝐦

But before Grace could accept that inevitable rip-off, Liam lifted his head and breathed out black smoke again, accompanied by a single word. "Finally."

It now dawned upon Grace that Liam hadn’t hidden his smoking habit despite the audience, which had a similar reason to his stubbornness on continuing that debilitating practice during the run.

Liam’s mind was on the pulsating reddish canvas, where an awaited change had unfolded.

Improving the powder’s recipe had accelerated Liam’s growth, but not only in terms of speed. His cultivation’s development wasn’t homogeneous, and that feature had become starker during the last period.

Liam’s core was still the same, just like his spiritual roots. The minor roots had developed further, showing their divine, or diabolical, number, but one of those one hundred protuberances now stood out from the rest.

One minor root had developed more quickly than the others, just reaching twice the length of the spiritual counterparts. A pleasant quivering had also unfolded through it, signaling something that echoed throughout Liam’s body.

The change wasn’t anything close to what had unfolded during the breakthrough. It was actually impossibly fainter, but Liam felt it. The body was the soil, and advancing his cultivation would improve it, making it more suitable for that journey.

And Liam had to admit that his fake spar with Lancelot had left him unsatisfied, unable to understand where he stood fully. Still, the world had provided a second opportunity.

"Grace, they are tricking us," Liam mentioned, wanting to be sure. "Aren’t they?"

Grace had learned what Liam meant by that specific word, which was crazy in the current situation. It was four against two, even when not accounting for the political implications.

However, trust went both ways, and the matter was about money. If Liam believed he could save it, Grace would simply scold him later.

"It is quite a complicated subject," Grace stated, "But yes."

Liam’s pipe disappeared out of thin air, and the same went for the arrow he had caught. A black bow materialized in their place, which he promptly stored on his left shoulder.

’This feels so much better,’ Liam thought, storing his cloak next, exposing the grey robe underneath, and his face.

Then, two thunderous noises resounded in a row, and snow flew everywhere, joined by a hooded, severed head.