Chapter 622: Silver

The palace’s bath was straight-up majestic.

Stone, marble, and magical items blended to create a basin so vast Liam could have easily mistaken it for a lake. Its waters were warm and cozy, even cleansing fatigue from his very soul.

If Amber had told Liam that the bath was a recovery-oriented item, he would have believed her.

Liam took his sweet time washing himself, though mostly out of necessity. Grace wasn’t with him, and he wasn’t the type to indulge in such pleasures alone. Yet, the vile perfume was no easy opponent, requiring plenty of scrubbing to remove.

Everything was ready by the time Liam donned his black robe with blood-red floral patterns on his sleeve and did the hairstyle Grace had taught him. Amber picked him up, leading him to the palace’s entrance, a crowd already sitting at the stone staircase’s base.

The crowd wasn’t big, barely surpassing thirty rooting experts. They all wore grey belts, their sign of affiliation to the Dark Heaven Tribe, suggesting that their participation could be a reward for elite underlings.

The crowd below had one exception sitting a bit farther ahead on a low armchair instead of mats. Caspar wore the desert’s customary loose robes, but with long sleeves, and the left one hung down his torso, empty.

Needless to say, Caspar shot Liam a glare. The promise to regrow his arm didn’t change the fact that Liam had been the one to rip it off. His Tribe had also offered compensation afterward, adding insult to a literal injury.

Yet, the glare was short-lived, replaced by suppressed shock. Liam might have done nothing, but he was still to blame. That reaction was also common among the audience.

Five months in the wilderness had intensified Liam’s predatory vibe. It didn’t help that he had spent most of that time hunting, doing justice to his feral stance.

More acupuncture tests had also followed, even starting the planned treatment. Liam’s physical functions had slightly improved, accelerating. His body burned more, so his features had sharpened, deepening the sense of danger he radiated.

A constant, lingering hunger even played into that dangerous presence, making Liam appear as a starving beast ready to pounce.

Nevertheless, the most striking change was of far simpler nature. Liam’s smoking powder had ended right after killing the taipan, so he had done another batch.

Due to the ingredients’ scarcity, Liam could only mix poisons with poisons. The new powder also had the scorpions’ venom at its core. Its raw version could still affect him, and its refined, purified concentrate was multiple times stronger. Adding it to a concoction led to a product nothing short of deadly.

Smoking that deadly stuff for two months had completed seven more branches, bringing Liam’s total number to thirty-two. That growth wasn’t as immediate as when magical beasts poisoned him, but it remained unheard of for branching experts.

Given that Liam had fought Caspar when he only had one branch, he now appeared as a completely different expert. Numerically, his cultivation had already surpassed what a talent of three spiritual roots could achieve in the branching stage, and that without accounting for the power provided by his incomplete protuberances.

Of course, the price of such sudden, meaningful growth had been almost dying dozens of times. Liam couldn’t smoke freely yet, either, since the powder still paralyzed him for a while at each puff.

But the audience and Caspar could hardly claim Liam’s attention. In comparison, the stage atop the stone staircase was far more interesting.

Uriah and Rachel were there, and Amber immediately joined them. The two branching experts had received updates from their daughter, so Liam’s changes were less surprising. They also had to project confidence.

Containers of ingredients stood on the side, neatly arranged, ready for Liam to review, but he only had eyes for the item at the stage’s center. It was big, bulky, and silver. It was a cauldron, and it was made from a rank 3 alloy.

Liam’s feet instinctively moved toward the cauldron. He caressed it, knocked on its surface, and tested its weight. It was a beast of an item that almost reached his waist, solid, unmovable, and unbreakable.

Moreover, Liam couldn’t see anything anywhere. Maintenance was crucial for such items, but signs of use always remained, no matter how faint. Still, the silver cauldron had none.

’It’s brand new,’ Liam realized, glancing at Uriah, knowing he had to be the maker. ’But I haven’t delivered the mineral yet.’

Uriah responded with a snort at the mixture of incredulity and confusion in Liam’s look, only to descend the staircase with Amber, joining Caspar on low armchairs in the front rows below.

Liam was still caught in his incredulity when Rachel reached his side. The audience forced her into more proper behavior, but she also had a specific image to project.

"They should see me kissing my Honey good luck," Rachel whispered in Liam’s ear. "Even if I know he doesn’t need it."

Truth was, Rachel had projected that picture ever since reaching the Red Sandstorm Tribe. By always being at Liam’s side, she was announcing their relationship to the world.

Of course, Liam felt nothing romantic, but he had still gotten closer to Rachel. He also understood her predicament. Allowing a kiss, even on the cheek, would do wonders to protect her from suitors and lustful attention, but he just couldn’t.

Rachel had stolen occasional kisses, but Liam agreeing with them was entirely different. It would also open a bottomless rabbit hole. As much as he wanted to protect her, doing right by Grace came first.

Luckily, Liam’s social skills were hopeless no longer. He still wasn’t good with lies, but a brief facade was within what he could concoct.

Rachel couldn’t believe her eyes when Liam reached for her cheek, and her gaze brightened when his big hand descended to her neck. He didn’t choke her. He merely lay his fingers there, approaching her ear, using his head to hide her expression from the audience.

"Go sit down," Liam ordered, retracting both head and hand.

The audience couldn’t possibly know that nothing meaningful had been spoken. Rachel’s dreamy, yearning expression made it look as if Liam had proposed. The way she happily hopped down the staircase even declared how in love she was.

Liam only needed a look at the audience to know his veiled pressing of Rachel’s buttons had worked better than a thousand kisses. The sitting, raging tide of pure fury was a problem, but a foreseen one that Liam ignored.

Alchemy had begun, meaning the rest of the world disappeared from Liam’s mind, his new cauldron elevating that unbreakable immersion even further.