Legacy of Hatred-Chapter 125: Desk

Homer flopped lifelessly forward, his now-corpse splashing into the shallow waters, a deeper red patch expanding from his almost entirely severed neck.

Liam felt nothing while staring at the floating corpse. There was nothing to feel in the first place. A frail life was gone, leaving emptiness in its stead.

The world had thrown another hurdle at Liam, and he had overcome it to continue pursuing his way of life. More than merely surviving, he was advancing, fueled by the resolve to live on his own terms and fulfill his desires.

The lack of satisfaction vouched for that spiritually higher mindset. It was a detachment that only goals grander than life itself could provide, something that might look cold and emotionless on the outside, but that had a burning ambition at its core.

If anything, there was a good aspect to that emptiness. Despite seeing killing an enemy as nothing meaningful, Liam found no enjoyment in the act. His moral compass might be screwed, but he faced no risk of losing himself and becoming a frenzied murderer.

The absence of an ethical conflict prevented any delay in Liam’s thoughts. His brain didn’t even waste a full second recording the kill before moving to other, more relevant topics.

Once again, the surprise effect had shown its worth. It wasn’t that Homer had necessarily been weaker than Liam. The opening Liam had created had simply been enough to act as the battle’s decisive factor.

Of course, the surprise effect alone couldn’t have achieved that. Liam’s superior mindset had also played a big role, and the wooden knife had enabled that entire strategy.

Without the weapon, Liam would have probably needed to rely on feints and sacrificial plays to get past Homer’s defenses, leading to a prolonged battle that was far from ideal in the current situation.

Liam’s vast assortment of exploding pills could have worked, too, but the magical weapon allowed him to preserve that still-secret, finite resource, achieving a far cleaner victory.

Because of that crucial role, the knife earned itself a look from Liam. Blood had stained the blade, but the dark-green tones on its dull edge were still visible and reeked of Qi.

That greenish shade had appeared only after binding the item, seemingly mimicking the nature of Liam’s dantian. It wasn’t poisonous by any stretch of the imagination, but that wasn’t its intended job.

The magical weapon’s only purpose was to cut things. It wasn’t anything special or spectacular, but the first real use in a battle made Liam nod in approval.

Other magical items, martial arts, and even the cultivators’ bodies themselves featured Qi that normal weapons or attacks would struggle to pierce.

Instead, the wooden knife could achieve just that with a fraction of the Qi Liam’s best Seismic Palm demanded. The weapon could have probably even pierced Homer’s defensive currents, leaving Liam satisfied with its performance.

’A weapon is a weapon, alright,’ Liam commented in his mind. ’The cultivation world doesn’t change that.’

More than deadliness, Liam cared about saving Qi now. He had used another Seismic Palm during the last attack to sell his act, bringing their number to a total of four, which was too much for a single battle so early during the day.

’Though, should I put it back in my sleeve?’ Liam wondered. ’I’m not exactly good with it.’

Liam was familiar with knives, but only when it came to hunting. He had never received any real weapon training, and that inexperience could become a fatal flaw, especially against cultivators.

’Back in the sleeve you go,’ Liam decided, storing the wooden knife, feeling that the surprise effect would be more reliable than his fighting skills with that rank 1 magical weapon.

Liam didn’t stop there. He threw a hand into his pouch without needing to remove it from his shoulders, seizing the first flask he found, not even looking at it as he opened it and brought it to his mouth.

A refreshing sensation spread through Liam as he looked at the other battle. His Qi-recovery elixir stirred his core to produce more energy for his circulation technique, but he took those effects for granted and focused on his Senior Brothers.

In the short time that it had taken Liam to kill Homer, the blonde-haired rooting expert had gained numerous new cut wounds, one even on his face, stretching vertically over his right eye, which was bleeding and close now.

Naturally, Maxwell had been the culprit of such a bloody spectacle. His assault always focused on the brown-haired woman, leaving her no option but to defend, often forcing her companion to intervene.

As for Joel, it looked as if he was having trouble joining the battle. Maxwell’s assault was too quick and deadly, and the two blue rooting experts kept retreating, leaving Joel little opportunity to launch attacks or affect the heated fight in any meaningful way.

Still, despite Joel’s almost non-existent influence, Maxwell clearly had the advantage, so much so that the two blue rooting experts could only delay their seemingly unavoidable defeat.

And, as inspiring as Maxwell’s prowess was, Liam found something better to. He wanted to watch rooting experts fight to learn as much as possible, but he had also just understood his weaknesses and how to fix them, and the corpse floating beside him could help in that regard.

The rank 1 wooden knife had proven its worth, further confirming Liam’s conclusions, so he disregarded the incredible fight and squatted down in the swamp, pulling Homer toward him to start undressing him.

In the next two exchanges, the other battle also reached its conclusion. The blonde-haired expert found himself on his knees, his left leg bleeding profusely as the guardless sword rested on his neck.

That predicament had finally allowed Joel to circle the brown-haired woman, blocking her retreat. She could still escape sideways, but Maxwell pressed the sword against her companion, and the drop of blood that flowed down his neck forced her to stop.

"Your Brother’s life for your points," Maxwell declared, his calm tone unaffected by the heated, solo-battle. "Yours for your surrender."

Maxwell didn’t lean either way. He was ready to accept either outcome of his ultimatum since both would benefit him and his Sect.

"What about my Junior Brother?" The brown-haired woman asked.

"He can also li-," Maxwell began to promise, only for Joel to interrupt him.

"Senior Brother," Joel coughed, nodding at something behind Maxwell.

Maxwell peeked behind his shoulder. The battle had covered a decent distance, and trees were in the way. Still, he eventually spotted Liam sitting in the swamp, casually emptying Homer’s pouch over his almost naked, floating corpse, using it as a desk.