Born in Blood



"Absolutely not. I don't even share your Clan's ideals, and you want me to lead more than ten thousand of your people?"

Liam's firm denial was instantaneous. 

A leader?

Liam Royce?

Ha!

No way!

Liam wasn't a bad leader.

Case in point: his expedition into the Korsan Lands, which was a staggering success under his leadership.

In fact, Liam was a pretty damn good leader.

But that wasn't the problem.

Liam saw his underlings more like expendable assets than human beings.

But it looked like Usan expected his answer.

He scoffed, but it sounded more friendly than malicious. An even mix of both.

"You didn't hear my offer first."

Silence.

Liam's face remained stern.

…But he supposed he could spare a minute or two to hear this 'offer'.

"That's what I thought," Usan snorted, but then heaved another tired breath.

This was a heavy topic for both of them.

"If… when we win this tournament, I'll devour the fruit," Usan said.

"It'll quicken my death, I know it will."

"...But it'll give me a massive surge of power and maybe push me to the sixth Rank."

"When that happens, I'll be able to find you a bunch of Rank 4 Rank 5 cultivators to devour."

"A good supply. A total of 15 to 20 Rank 5's. Maybe."

"But then, I'll die myself."

"And when that happens…"

"You can devour my corpse, too."

Silence.

That… was an extremely good offer. 

It was one of the issues Liam had: finding powerful enough bodies to devour and expand his strength with.

Not to mention…

A Rank 6 cultivator's body. 

Who knew how powerful that was. 

Or if Liam could eat something like that.

If Liam indeed put his hands on that, then the deal would no doubt be worth it.

…But it depended on Usan's ability to actually become a powerhouse.

With all these risks involved, was it really worth it?

Ordering so many numbers around… leading an entire clan… taking on responsibilities…

Clans lasted years and years.

This was no small decision.

And if Liam gave his word, he would have to keep it.

As wretched and wicked as he was, it was an unspoken rule he, and almost all cultivators, had.

Unless, of course, Liam was being taken advantage of. 

In that case, one's word didn't matter.

So, even after Usan died, he couldn't just turn tail and leave the organization to fend for itself.

"Why me, though? You could have chosen anyone else from the Temple and they'd do everything for you, no questions asked," Liam said.

Usan slightly shook his head.

"They're not as driven and malicious. I need both. You have plenty."

Silence again.

Liam's face expressed his inner conflict. 

Of wanting the fruit's powerful potential. 

Of not wanting to shoulder so much responsibility.

But by the end of it…

"...Fine," Liam said with a bit of reluctance in his voice.

"I'll be your damn heir. But only if you get me at least 20 Rank 5 corpses before you kick the bucket."

Usan's lips curled into a very subtle smirk, unfazed by Liam's sarcastic comment.

"Little brat."

Liam felt like he'd just signed a suspiciously deceitful contract.

"What are you going to tell the others? They won't let me lead without your approval," Liam said. 

"When the time comes, we'll get to it. You're already accepted and admired here," Usan responded quickly. 

"I should tell you what to do after my death, but first, we have a tournament to win."

"You should go train now."

"And maybe get that arm fixed," Usan gave a light smile.

Liam grumbled.

The conversation ended there. 

There wasn't anything more to discuss, and the two went their separate ways. 

It was strange, Liam thought, the events one went through in life. 

Everything that happened to Liam came full circle. 

Everyone around him pretty much found a way to die.

This... Cursed by All thing was getting pretty accurate.

But Liam wasn't really close to anyone to begin with. Most of them were already dead.

Except two.

'Are... Lloyd and Rogan still alive?' 

Liam's true teachers.

The people who introduced him to his current life.

There was Lloyd's horrible advice on how to speak with women, and there was Rogan's equally bad advice on drinking alcohol and gambling.

Liam felt a bit nostalgic thinking about them.

He chuckled under his breath, replaying the countless memories he made with the two as he made his way back to his room.

But then he shook his head, his face growing resolute.

'It's better not to dwell on the past.'

'Only forward.'

He'd rather they didn't see what he became.

***

Liam held a Dusk Blade in his left hand. 

Heaving a small sigh, he swung it across the disgusting deformity on his right arm. 

A small bit of muscle was severed off.

A pang of pain seared through him. 

Just a few seconds after cutting it off, the deformity grew back with a wet squelch.

'Like I thought.'

'It's one with my body.'

'Two weeks is not nearly enough time to fix this thing.'

Liam knew how stubborn his Ashura Form was. At least a month or two was needed to heal the injury.

But Liam supposed that was normal.

He had been neglecting his Ashura Form for a while now.

In truth, he was always wary about using it too much. 

The drastic drawbacks it had on his body weren't light, and it forced him to rest.

And rest he did not like to do. 

For the next two weeks, Liam focused on Transfiguration with his Ashura Form.

By the end, Liam decided that the task of fixing his deformity was too difficult.

He succeeded in healing the wound just a little bit. It no longer bled, but the bits of flesh and grime that protruded from it were still visible.

Not to mention, it hurt.

But Liam just chose to grit his teeth and fight with it.

Fighting against a powerful martial artist with one arm wasn't ideal.

But so what?

Liam still had another arm.

He still had a mouth.

He still had two legs and his organs.

It was enough.