Born in Blood

The robed cultivator instantly took off his clothing, inspecting the corners of his defined and muscular body.

A wicked smile grew on his lips as he did so, before he solemnly shifted his eyes towards the sky. Multiple emotions flickered on his face.

'I need to leave. Better to run while he's still pondering his life choices.'

Inwardly, Liam knew he couldn't beat the unexpected cultivator. After all, the man had both an awakened core of the fire element, and — from what Liam could deduce — a higher ranked body.

The reason those flames didn't damage him, was because it originated from his body or core, perhaps the special ability that upper ranked techniques came with.

In that sense, Liam was correct.

The only thing the guy lacked was an awakened mental sphere, since cultivators with a Rank-1 sea of consciousness could easily sense others in a vast area of range. Psionic Runes weren't particularly easy to come across.

'I need to find the others. What's taking them so bloody long?!'

With a low, annoyed grunt, Liam picked himself off the village hut and slid onto the ground — shifting away his focus from the pain.

He didn't walk far, before sensing a heavy bloodlust behind him, followed by a giant black-metal saber aimed for his back.

Liam inwardly cursed as he shifted, unsheathing his blades and parrying with his wakizashi and katana.

His wrists sprained crooked as they blocked the might of the attack, but Liam managed to redirect the saber away before jumping back to create distance.

The bare cultivator was slightly taken aback and didn't resume his offense. He shifted his gaze to Liam and spoke with a slightly amazed tone:

"Wow. At such a young age, you've tempered your body… What's your name, kid?"

Liam stretched his wrists as he fixed his footing, his vigilant eyes shifting between his opponent and his own blades, which had a slight crack on its edge.

Liam remained silent, but then realized he had to buy time. Heaving a soft sigh, he responded calmly:

"...It's courtesy to speak your own name before asking someone else's."

The man chuckled, then guffawed. With a serious tone, he replied.

"Wryel."

Liam stretched the silence as much as he could, before a glimmer of impatience appeared in Wryel's eyes.

"Liam. Striking a ten year old from behind isn't really a cool thing to do, old man."

Wryel chuckled, shifting his attention towards the imploded warehouse, spotting corpses scattered around the back. The bandit's Liam had killed had been charred black, adding another layer of gore to an already savage scene.

Turning back to Liam, he spoke sarcastically.

"Said the brat that killed seven of my strongest men and didn't suffer a single scratch."

By the looks of it, Wryel was done talking, adjusting the grip on his black saber, before taking slow steps towards Liam.

Liam heaved a long breath. By then, his sprained wrists no longer hurt when he cranked them.

'I still have my trump card. That saber will definitely break my blades if I let him, though.'

Liam's 'Ora' reserves were still at its peak.

Wryel's figure flickered and reappeared in front of Liam, a maniacal look was on his face as he swung his giant saber — which suddenly burst into flames — horizontally against Liam's arm.

Liam pivoted on his left foot, barely dodging the slash and fire as he arched his body backwards.

Wryel didn't stop there. One after the other, wide slashes backed by powerful swings forced Liam to evade and dodge, doing so by the skin of his teeth.

His small size and stature worked to his benefit, since he was a much more difficult target to hit.

Stinging burn marks started to sizzle on Liam's skin, the pain of which was dulled considerably because of his heat resistance.

'I have to do it in the middle of his swing, so he doesn't have the freedom to evade or block.'

Forced to use his blades to parry a direct hit, Liam's katana and wakizashi completely shattered, leaving only a small, slant-tipped stump at the top of his blades' hilt.

Wryel started to laugh sadistically as he swung his saber with even more strength and speed, though his attacks were riddled with blatant openings.

Liam bided his time as he dodged.

Gritting his teeth, he suffered patiently, even throwing away his katana but holding his wakizashi, waiting for the perfect opportunity.

Finally, it came.

Wryel swung diagonally — his saber flaring with violent flames — using all the strength in his giant muscles to cut Liam in half.

In what seemed like a split second, Liam sprung from the ground and vertically swiped his blade a few inches away from Wryel's face, consuming all the 'Ora' in his body.

Wyrel's brown irises reflected a silvery moonlight rapidly shooting for his features, forming a bloody gash from forehead to chin, splitting his nose in the process.

The maniacal cultivator stumbled backwards and fell clutching his face, groaning with a strained tone. His marred expression displayed pure shock.

Death seized him a second later.