Legacy of Hatred-Chapter 171: Progress

Everything steadily moved forward, gradually showing signs of progress.

It wasn’t an exaggeration to say that the mission in the Mutated Battlefield had revolutionized most, if not all, aspects of Liam’s life.

On the surface, nothing had changed, but the disparate and plentiful rewards had added multiple goals for Liam to pursue, granting his almost identical routine new, grander meanings.

The Disciplinary Elder hadn’t pressed the greatsword’s issue any further, but the weapon training that followed the combat lessons had been broad enough to involve heavy instruments, too.

It was the Disciplinary Elder’s opinion that Liam had to grow accustomed to fighting with weapons before specializing in one. So, the afternoon lessons tackled battle stances with knives, swords, axes, spears, hammers, and even greatswords.

Even the Alchemy Elder seemed to be fine with that approach, so Liam didn’t press the matter and focused on learning.

Alchemy also showed great progress. With all the new ingredients, Liam could go wild, concocting to his heart’s content without having to worry about contribution points or finances.

That unrestrained approach eventually highlighted the validity of the Alchemy Elder’s suggestion. Liam only concocted poisons, and the more he did, the more his understanding and confidence grew.

It was an eerie feeling. Liam couldn’t exactly describe it. It was more of a subconscious knowledge that created an instinctive understanding of how certain ingredients, recipes, concoctions, and products would react.

Liam felt as if poison was beginning to speak to him. It was the advantage of a growing specialization, of the complete immersion his Master had mentioned.

And among that positive, unhindered, and steady progress, one glaring issue stood out, gradually gnawing more at Liam’s brain, almost turning into an obsession.

Nothing really happened with Melissa. Actually, everything was going more than fine despite Liam’s shorter free time.

The weapon training stretched Liam’s lessons into the afternoon, but that didn’t change how he spent his time before his nighttime meetings with his Master.

Melissa didn’t exactly wait for Liam. She did at times, but she mostly left him once her combat lessons ended, only to always be there when it was time for him to return to his cave.

That was something Liam had long since accepted as normal. Having Melissa in his cave while he concocted was part of his routine. Simon hadn’t even made any move, and being together was the best way to ensure that things continued like that.

Despite the Alchemy Elder’s suggestion, Liam also kept his priorities straight. The interactions basically boiled down to the short moments before he began concocting.

Yet, Melissa had made that the highlight of Liam’s days. She kept giving and requesting kisses, always bringing his hands to her, as if wanting him to learn exactly what she was made of.

Melissa even hugged Liam at times, creating intimate moments that made him crave to dive deeper into whatever was happening. She stirred his curiosity and desire until they threatened to take over him, only to leave him to his concoctions before they could reach the critical point.

And Liam had to admit that he was going crazy. Something that had long since been ready to explode kept building up inside him, only for his routine never to give him the opportunity to ask or do anything about it.

However, slightly over three weeks into that focused training, a change arrived.

Liam slapped the rumbling cauldron, forcing it to expel a tide of black smoke that quickly dispersed, and checking its insides filled his nostrils with a foul scent that sent happy quivers into his foundation.

Something murky-green rested at the cauldron’s bottom. A slimy paste that resonated with Liam quickly settled, his nose already confirming his success.

After all, that paste was a properly deadly poison, one tailored for weapons. It was the upgrade to Liam’s Cloud Pills, one that even he had to handle carefully.

’I’ll let Master check it,’ Liam thought, despite already knowing the answer. ’If he approves, I can finally start.’

That success didn’t exist in a vacuum. It was proof that Liam’s mastery of poisons had met the requirements to concoct something even more powerful, something deadly enough to overcome his steep bottleneck.

Liam browsed over his cave next. Ingredients still cluttered it, but he had cut them in half in those three weeks. He also spotted a wooden target with metal needles stabbed into it and the quiver with ten arrows he had requested, but his gaze soon fell on his cross-legged, beautiful companion.

That readiness meant that Liam would enter seclusion next, a process necessary to ensure absolute immersion and concentration.

Liam needed as much not only to succeed at what promised to be his last concoction as a foundation expert. He also had to face the breakthrough itself, and that couldn’t feature an audience. His Master was the only exception.

’Will she be fine in the meantime?’ Liam worried, only to shake his head when his gaze went over Melissa’s lips, neck, waist, and legs, knowing the unparalleled joy and more that they could generate.

Since alchemy promised to be the main and sole dish for a while, Liam saved himself for when his Master arrived, heading instead for the metal slab by the piles of ingredients.

Liam sat down before the slab, lying it horizontally in front of him as he began one of his new training routines.

Liam slammed the back of his hands on the slab, repeating the process with his palms, fingers, and even wrists until a familiar pain filled them.

That pain couldn’t make Liam flinch, but he stopped anyway, focusing on the process described in the Metal Hand’s tome. He sent his Qi to those suffering extremities, letting it settle there so that it could be part of their recovery.

Nothing revolutionary unfolded, but Liam knew it was working. His Qi fueled a superhuman recovery that would harden his skin, ligaments, and bones, improving what his hands could unleash and endure with his new martial art.

Once the pain subsided, Liam repeated the process. His hands wouldn’t be ready until the slab was the only one to suffer, a goal standing in the superior stage he would attempt to reach next.