Born in Blood
252 Scream
Liam patiently waited outside a large room that long, suppressed grunts resounded out of.
He had his eyes closed in deep thought, unfazed by the disturbing cries that came through it now and again.
Liam's mind was still on the Ravenous Leash Arts.
In a way, it really worked like a body-inscription method, creating a tether between the core and the Beast Will.
That was where the name "Leash" came from. It simply imitated one.
For one, killing the beast was fine.
There was no other way to attain the core.
All that was needed was the corpse, which was basically used as a puppet for the Art user to command.
It didn't need the cultivator's mental energy or 'Ora' to work, either, which was amazing in its own right.
A single mental command was all that was needed to control it.
That said, it wasn't absolutely submissive to its master's will, as seen when the Metal Boar began its reckless thrashing.
Their bodies contained their Wills after a successful procedure. They were both dead and alive at the same time.
'I'm still not good enough to practice with the Shadow Clone spell. That thing is way too complicated for me to analyze or even understand.'
'My only hope could be the Primordial Forging method if I want to make this work. Only time will tell if it's anything changeable with my current understanding.'
'I know for a fact the answer lies with my Shadow, though. Something so malleable and mercurial can do so much.'
'I've barely scratched the surface. I'd have to make that blackhole thing a reality, first,' Liam thought. 'I can't wait for the raids to be over with.'
Other cultivators couldn't even dream to have the same mindset Liam did.
Of taking inspiration from a technique and manipulating them into something of his own making.
At such a young age, even making Rank 2 spells was a dream.
Inscription masters needed years and years before attempting something like that.
And here he was, contemplating how to make a body-tempering method that combined three different races, and ways to remake a renowned Clan Art into something of his liking.
Pain tolerance and the King's Eye sure was useful.
Still in his musings, Liam heard the door click open, and the four Elders came out looking a bit dejected, covered with blood and grime.
"He didn't give us much," said Elder Aki, a slight frown on her small, blood-covered face. "I even crushed his—"
"We all saw," Elder Orisa said, cutting her off. "At least now we know there's another 6 Zenith Elders left."
"What are you doing here?" Elder Jane asked Liam, and the group's attention fell on him.
"I want a few minutes with him. Alone. I have a few questions regarding their Clan's Art," Liam responded.
Everyone looked at him silently.
"If the four of us can't get him to talk, what makes you so confident?" Elder Verium said.
There was no mockery intended, but just a slight reprimand for his line of thought.
Liam shrugged.
"I just want to ask."
Verium sighed.
"Go ahead then. He's already chained up and can't use spells. If he tries anything, you can kill him yourself. He's weakened enough."
On his words, the three left, leaving just him and Jane.
"What are you up to now?" she asked with a raised brow.
"Nothing serious."
Shaking her head, the Elder left shortly after.
Liam shrugged again and entered the room, closing the doors behind him.
Ahead, the Leash Member known as the Crimson Tiger looked like he didn't have much life remaining in him.
He was tied up in a cruel piece of equipment, tight, powerful shackles gripped at his limbs, neck, forehead, knees and feet.
He was missing his nails.
He was missing his left arm.
He was missing a foot.
Gobs of blood covered him, especially the groin area.
His hateful eyes spotted Liam.
"Y-you? You're the scum on the poster!"
The Elder's mental waves spread out to pressure Liam's mind, but they were too weakened and frail to do any significant damage.
Liam pushed them back with ease, activating Corrosive Mind and Piercing Blade aimed straight at the man's mental sphere.
Another grunt filled with pain left the man's throat, his face twisted with a grimace.
Liam heaved a sigh and stood a short distance away from the weak Zenith.
"Nothing they haven't done to me," the Elder snarled, spitting out a mouthful of blood. A tooth was among the mix, tapping against the floor. "What can you do?"
Liam said nothing derogatory. He wanted cooperation.
"I have a few questions. Just help me out. Your Clan Arts – I want to learn them. Can you tell me more about the process?"
Surprise flickered on the Elder's face for merely a second, before twisting into one of anger.
"You're overestimating yourself, and you're underestimating our Arts. Tethering is painful—"
Boring.
"—and a random nobody like you won't be able to do much."
"Why not?" Liam asked, studying the man's mental waves. In its weakened state, he saw regret, pain, and a whole lot of anger.
"You're untrained. It takes the budding disciples years and years to understand the process."
"What process?"
Crimson Tiger gave Liam a blank look, before letting out a strained laugh.
"Do you honestly think I would answer that?"
Silence followed.
Liam pursed his lips.
Obviously, he didn't imagine he would get the man's cooperation, but it was worth a shot.
Oh well.
Asking him for help wasn't the only reason he came.
Liam's vertical iris constricted straight at the Elder's eyes.
If the Zenith had even a quarter of his strength, Liam wouldn't have been able to reach his mental sphere.
But he did.
Liam saw through the man's senses.
Obviously, Liam couldn't feel what a Zenith felt.
He could only perceive his vision and hearing to a limited degree.
Crimson Tiger didn't know what was going on, but he felt something strange.
Liam's presence was unnerving, and his gaze was unsettling, even to him.
...A moment later, Liam's body started to twist and morph into a massive, rotten, eight-eyed creature with nine emaciated limbs sprouting from its sides, ending in scythe-like protrusions dripping with viscous blood.
Dozens of small, black-and-red eyes slowly burst open from his horrible form, and a wide crooked grin filled with jagged, rusty spikes for teeth acted as a mouth.
Crimson Tiger screamed until his throat went dry.
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