Born in Blood

241 Cruel

Someone had hurled an Abyssal Needle.

Liam watched with a constricted golden eye as the javelin-looking weapon whistled through the air.

Although he made the weapons, he hadn't really tested them.

All he could do was make estimates on its destruction based on its features.

The Nine Palm Border Guards all shifted their alarmed faces to the hissing noise.

But at that point, the Needle struck.

It silently exploded dead center of the campfire.

…And instantly extinguished it with a giant wad of dark flames, quickly stretching to 30 meters of space in three seconds.

Choked shouts paired with strident cries filled the air, but no coherent sentences could form under their gas-filled lungs.

After all, one couldn't shout with a corroded throat.

Disturbingly gasping for oxygen, the collection of Rank 3 martial artists near the radius of the initial explosion fell to their knees, clutching their ruined throats.

More experienced martial artists took to activating a movement spell and running away from the cloud of smoke. Circulating 'Ora' within their lungs.

However, a misty figure surged through the black cloud with a pair of sharp blades in his hands.

In his Wraith Form, Liam moved at a terrifying speed.

He could freely enter through the dangerous gas.

It was made through his own 'Ora', after all. It couldn't be used against its inventor.

One by one, those shrill cries trailed off to silence.

Only a swirly red and golden light was faintly visible through the dense smoke, seemingly blinking from one spot to another.

Wherever "it" moved, a cry went silent.

Liam didn't bother finishing off those that were already dying, targeting those who managed to survive.

Unlike before, where the Temple could afford to take their time and slowly pick off their victims one by one, they had to be much more direct in their approach.

The entire Nine Palm Sect was surrounded, and the Elders bided their time.

Meanwhile, the acolytes watching had their eyes widened in shock.

Just… just what kind of "weapon" was this?!

No one had ever seen or heard of something this cruel and inhumane!

When the smoke cleared, the sight gave the acolytes goosebumps.

Those poor disciples that were vigorous and jolly a minute earlier now lacked any human-defining features.

Terrible wounds covered them head to toe, stripping them of skin and flesh, revealing the corroded bone beneath.

Where their eyeballs once were, an empty bore had taken place.

Worst of all, some were still alive… if they could be called that.

Their attempts to breathe sounded like a child's shrill cry.

Not even the grass was spared, turned to mud and rock.

Even the strongest-willed men of the Temple felt the urge to look away.

Ruth, who threw the Abyssal Needle, suddenly felt guilty.

She had never felt like that, even when crushing people with her hammer.

Meanwhile, Liam continued pressing forward, unfazed.

He hadn't used the Dusk Blades for those menial tasks, but he had a lot to test out.

The String Arts, his Shadow Bomb, Focused Havoc, the Dusk Blades.

Thankfully, his fellow acolytes seemed absorbed by his new invention, giving him a head-start.

Using his Dark Chains, Liam pulled himself upward and perched over the palm-shaped wall.

Like a predator choosing his prey, his eye constricted to a sharp line.

Liam scanned the available buildings to attack.

A palm-themed Sector obviously had palm-shaped buildings.

Those towards the center were grander-looking, with the Patriarch's Pavilion being the largest.

'That one should be good enough,' Liam thought.

Liam positioned his feet on the border wall.

Then, using Vanishing Steps and his Shadow, he cocked his knees and burst forward.

Whoosh!

Liam was fast!

He was soaring through the air at an incredible speed, closing the gap between him and the building in just a few seconds.

Bracing himself, Liam positioned himself mid-air like a plank and burst through the wall feet-first.

Boom!

The wall shattered.

Liam crashed through, rolled on the ground, then steadied his footing.

There weren't any injuries on his body.

What Liam barged into was a large ornate training room, filled with paintings and… palm decorations?

Why were these people so obsessed with palms?

A Rank 3 disciple came into Liam's sights – black hair, slim build and small-eyed, with palms that looked like they were made out of obsidian.

From the looks of it, he was a Rank 3 Magus with a Rank 3 core.

The man looked surprised at first, but then frowned and took on a fighting stance, stretching out his palms.

His mental waves naturally pressured Liam's mind, but when using Thicken, the pain subsided to a tolerable amount.

Liam didn't say anything.

Neither did the disciple.

They looked at each other with hostility in their eyes.

Both were in a state of understanding.

Liam took out his Dusk Blades.

The chains of such a vicious weapon clinked as they coiled around Liam's arms.

The disciple expressed surprise, but steeled his face a moment later.

Liam began with enveloping himself with a curtain of mental energy.

Obviously, this wouldn't work with a Rank 3 Magus.

However, as the disciple blew away the iridescent energies, a black sphere exploded within the space.

BHOOF!

As the smoke began to fill the room, the disciple didn't sit still.

'Ora' gathered on his cocked palm, churning with powerful wind.

A moment later, the disciple shot his palm forward, which suddenly became a devastating attack that instantly blew away all the smoke within the room.

WHOOOSH!

Just then, wafer-thin threads made the man's senses tingle from all sides.

In a series of fast-paced movements, he twisted around and used his palms to deflect them from all angles.

CLING!

They came from everywhere!

Crimson strings!

Red lines formed on the man's figure.

A few threads managed to draw blood from his Rank 4 body, but not enough to cause significant damage.

However, they weren't strong at all, a mere annoyance.

All the while, the disciple kept track of his opponent's movements, who strangely stood still at the same place.

Just as he deflected a thread of blood, the disciple blurred and arrived at Liam's location, smashing his palm square across his face.

BOOM!