Legacy of Hatred

Chapter 383: Sorting

As much as such confessions would usually lead to intimacy, no matter how much Liam and Grace pretended they had no romantic repercussions, their mindsets were aligned. Flirting couldn’t happen at the expense of their priorities.

Liam and Grace had much to do. The review in Frozen Peak had given them an idea of what they possessed, but it was time to manage it.

Of course, Liam and Grace both knew their roles in that partnership, so they proceeded to fulfill them without needing to consult each other.

Liam obviously was in charge of anything alchemy-related.

The first review had already settled what to do with the alchemical products for the most part. Anything in the first rank could be sold, while the very opposite went for the rank 3 items.

The inheritance had given eight rank 3 alchemical products, not all necessarily useful, but still priceless. Anything at that rank was.

That put the pair in a pickle. They weren’t strong enough to use rank 3 products. Even if they did, it would be a waste unless something tragic happened.

Selling those products featured even greater problems. Rank 3 assets were basically unfindable in the public market, so parting with them was only worth it in exchange for equally valuable items.

Worst of all, revealing that Liam and Grace had rank 3 products would invite calamity. They were no mighty force. If a powerful organization learned about their wealth, they might have to escape again.

As for the rank 2 alchemical products, some were best kept. Liam even added more to the list to account for Grace’s greed. Instead, everything else could be sold, but only after an attentive review.

Archbishop Ignatius’ inheritance had excellent preservation methods, far surpassing space-rings, but time couldn’t be defeated. Liam had to smell and taste every flask and container to ensure that the products’ quality was still on point.

If anything, Grace had to know if a batch was of poor quality or partially expired before attempting to sell it.

The Brigade’s belongings had added alchemical products to the pile from the inheritance, but not nearly in equal quantity. The most interesting items involved Eugene’s body cultivation, which neither Liam nor Grace had any interest in pursuing.

Simple cultivation yielded better results at lower expenses and without requiring nearly as much time. Besides, Liam believed the vault only had enough for a couple of rounds of that inefficient training method.

Even if the pair wanted to start body cultivating, they would need to purchase or make additional batches, crossing off the idea entirely.

Still, there were ingredients, too, which added some strain to Liam’s otherwise straightforward duty.

The Brigade’s ingredients had no specific purpose. There was no recipe in mind behind that assortment. The Brigade had probably amassed whatever it could find to diversify its income.

Nevertheless, there was still a decent amount of ingredients. As small as the Brigade was, it had been an established force, and that assortment somewhat reflected that.

Liam’s personal stash was inferior, and mixing it with the Brigade’s assortment opened up a series of recipes he felt compelled to pursue. If anything, he had to turn those resources into alchemical products before they risked expiring.

So, despite the lingering exhaustion, Liam started concocting, carving a small laboratory in the corner of the hall.

As for Grace, her role didn’t involve any direct strain, but it was far from straightforward, demanding immense creativity.

Usually, having wares to sell was a merchant’s main issue. Such was the initial capital required even to think of starting a business.

Grace now had the opposite problem. She had plenty of wares, but no channels to sell them. She didn’t even know what types of business opportunities that unique area had.

The Brigade’s sheets and scrolls helped in that regard, but they remained a limited record of a far bigger picture. That force’s transactions highlighted many players, but Grace mostly focused on what they didn’t tell.

There were insights to be found from what the Brigade didn’t dare to do, where it refused to go, details Grace could deduce to draw a map of that environment.

Then, Grace had to apply that map to her wares, developing strategies for each possible situation, as well as one main approach she and Liam had to try to stick to.

Actually, most wares demanded specific approaches depending on their type. It would be great to find a unique solution, but Grace didn’t delude herself.

Of course, Grace faced the same issue with the rank 3 products. The rank 1 martial arts could be sold, and the same went for many in the second rank. She could also copy them depending on the situation, but none of that could involve the rank 3 techniques.

No one could know what Grace and Liam truly had, absolutely no one, even if they were certain that they could defend it. Such assurance didn’t exist in the cultivation world.

The magical items would need a similar treatment, but they were also one aspect Liam and Grace had to handle together. They could arm themselves to the teeth, and it was better to have some synchrony there.

That left starting to learn the available martial arts to complete a full set. Grace didn’t have the greatest Qi reserves, but having a rank 3 technique at her disposal could be wise, too.

The issue was that Grace couldn’t focus. Now that her mental picture was ready, she could accept some degree of distractions, which weren’t hard to find.

Liam had finished dealing with the concoctions and had also started training. The issue was that he had undressed while working on alchemy and hadn’t bothered covering himself afterward.

That was due to the variables that dirt and sweat brought. Liam was also running short on clothes, so he didn’t want to wear out the few he had left by washing them too often.

Yet, Liam now stood there, sitting cross-legged, the upper part of his body in plain view, the sweat on him reflecting the hall’s illumination and highlighting his muscular frame, like a beacon that kept drawing Grace’s gaze.

That attention also highlighted something else. Liam’s face was showing clear signs of exhaustion. His messy hair hid it, but Grace saw those details anyway.

Grace was in a similar situation, but Liam had worsened his condition by engaging in more demanding practices. His limit was inbound, but he still showed no sign of stopping.

And each involuntary glance increased Grace’s conviction that taking care of her Master was her main obligation.

Of course, Grace didn’t dare interrupt Liam’s training. It could be dangerous to do so. Yet, when he reopened his eyes, she was ready to reach for his head.

"Grace?" Liam groaned, albeit not due to the treatment. If anything, the caring fingers running through his hair did much to soothe his exhaustion.

"There are auctions," Grace explained, "In a city. It might be dangerous, so we should prepare as much as we can before heading there."

Liam nodded almost absent-mindedly. He knew Grace would give him a summary, and he would, too, but he rubbed the corners of his eyes now, wondering why his head was receiving such a pleasant treatment.

"What are you doing now?" Liam groaned again. He had meant that as a joke, but his tiredness had won.

"Think of it as a comb," Grace reassured. "I gave you mine anyway."

Liam would argue that Grace definitely had another comb, but he was too tired to find issues with such a pleasant practice. It did feel good to be touched like that when it was her doing it.

"Liam," Grace called, seeing that exhaustion-driven acceptance. "Do you always do this?"

Grace had already seen Liam driving himself ragged in the Roaring Thunder Sect. She had gotten partial answers back then that her current knowledge could complete, but new details had stood out.

Liam had almost killed himself over the inheritance. Even against the Brigade, he had fought until his feet bled. That was more than desperation. It was a complete disregard for himself.

In a different situation, Liam wouldn’t have understood the meaning behind Grace’s partially hidden concern. However, she had messed with his hair in two similar instances, allowing his tired brain to draw a connection.

"This is about what I can do," Liam explained. "I have my talent on my side, but ..."

Liam took a deep breath. Grace’s appeasing caresses created a conflict that highlighted the soreness in his brain. He hadn’t taken anything to improve his endurance, so the collapse was imminent.

"The Dragon King is like me," Liam announced, "But his cultivation level likely is the highest in the Kingdom, and he even somehow made an army of Dragons."

Liam was playing catch-up with someone who had already reached the final goal, and that wasn’t even the end.

"He has the entire Kingdom on his side," Liam continued. "The Guilds work for him. The Sects pay him tribute, and the Church helps him in the shadow. He also must have access to the best resources."

The King was the King for a reason, which involved far more than individual power.

"And he is Perfection," Liam pointed out. "Hatred has already lost against that."

A hiss resounded in Liam’s mind, but there was no hiding from the truth. His whole existence was proof of it.

"Compared to everyone else," Liam said, "I have a sturdy body and a firm cultivation. I can endure more than others. That’s all the edge I have."

Liam had reviewed the matter multiple times, reaching the same conclusion. He had the ability to abuse a higher threshold unique to him, so he would do just that.

"I feel that if I don’t do at least this much," Liam concluded, "I’ll have no chance at all."

Grace understood that mindset perfectly and had no intentions of stopping it. She had no right to. She even agreed with it since she had fallen prey to a similar stance.

In a way, Grace’s willingness to treat herself as a currency mimicked Liam’s readiness to abuse his superior limits. They had both maximized what they had. They had similar goals, similar predicaments, and similar impossible odds that only extreme approaches could hope to make possible.

But Liam had fulfilled Grace’s extreme approach, so it was her turn to do the same. She wouldn’t stop him, but she would take care of him.

"We’ll stay here for a while," Grace commented, "And more training in this condition might be detrimental. We should also maintain a degree of battle-readiness in case something happens, so you should rest now."

"You should also rest," Liam suggested, forcing his head up to look at Grace. "You haven’t stopped since I contacted you, right?"

"I’ll rest, too," Grace reassured, wearing a small smile. "I just have to put my Master to sleep first. It’s one of my duties."

"Shouldn’t I be the one taking care of you?" Liam chuckled but still lay down on the mat, escaping Grace’s caresses.

Grace didn’t reply, and it didn’t take long for Liam’s breath to grow deep and steady. She had seen an identical scene before, but there was a striking difference.

Liam wasn’t as tired as when inside the Roaring Thunder Sect, but nothing opposed Grace when she reached for his head, gently parting his long, messy black strands.

Either Liam’s wariness of Grace had completely disappeared, or a subconscious part of him had accepted her.

Grace soon retracted her hand, only for tiredness to wash over her. She was indeed at her limit, but something kept her awake. Liam was right there, bare-chested, sleeping on his side, and his unresponsiveness led to some mischievousness.

Redness rose toward Grace’s cheeks when the idea formed, and the blush intensified when she acted upon it. It was embarrassing, but greed triumphed. Between the flight and the previous inspection of her dantian, she knew how Liam’s arms felt, and she wanted more.

Slowly, Grace lay down, carefully slipping between Liam’s arms, using one as a pillow while wrapping the other around her, curling herself on his chest before giving in to her tiredness.