Legacy of Hatred

Chapter 329: Enjoyment

It was unclear whether Liam and Lancelot had time to rest, but the same went for the inheritance’s dangers. For all they knew, the coffin hid the worst trial yet, and it might not even be the last.

Still, Liam needed a break, at the very least to let the healing pill finish applying its effects. Lancelot didn’t say it, but he obviously hadn’t stopped at all ever since entering the Cathedral, meaning resting could only benefit him.

Besides, as far as Liam and Lancelot knew it, only weak teams stood outside the Cathedral, meaning dangerous reinforcements shouldn’t be inbound, not so soon at least.

Waiting could also give Isabel and Robert time to arrive. Julian was a troublesome variable, but an hour or two was within what Liam and Lancelot could compromise. That was an agreement they arrived at silently.

Except that Liam found meditating in peace quite difficult.

For a while, Liam only felt a burning stare on his back before a finger poked it.

Liam opened his eyes and turned, finding Lancelot behind him, standing on his knees, a hand on his chin, while the other proceeded to poke more.

Lancelot tested Liam’s shoulder, cheek, and ultimately chest, his pensive expression slowly turning into an annoyed pout.

Liam let that happen mostly out of perplexity. Lancelot even seemed serious about that matter, but that changed when his gaze fell toward Liam’s bottom, with his hand following after it.

A chill ran down Liam’s spine, his hand instinctively snapping at Lancelot’s, grabbing his wrist to stop it from reaching his butt.

"What are you doing?" Liam couldn’t help but ask, feeling danger.

"Brother William," Lancelot called in a scolding tone.

Liam rolled his eyes, noticing a strange pattern with all his closest people in the cultivation world. It had started with his Master, but that trend had continued with Melissa, Grace, and now Lancelot.

’Does this count as bullying?’ Liam wondered while correcting his way of addressing Lancelot. "Brother Lancelot, what are you doing?"

"I’m checking whether you arouse me," Lancelot explained as if it were the most normal thing in the world. "Your chest wasn’t it, but if your bottom is as soft as a woman’s ..."

For the first time in Liam’s life, he would have preferred not to understand what Lancelot was talking about. Luckily and sadly, he had learned how soft women were, especially in certain spots.

"I’m not!" Liam quickly stated. "Mine is definitely not the same!"

Lancelot threw another glance down before heaving a helpless sigh. "I figured."

Liam believed the strange, dangerous endeavor to be over once Lancelot retracted his hand, only for him to lie next to him, belly up, his hands wrapped behind his head as he stared at the tall ceiling.

"How does falling for someone and not wanting to lie with him even work?" Lancelot whined. "What a conundrum."

Once again, Liam understood what Lancelot was talking about, sort of. He had never done that with Melissa. It was a miracle he had even realized what he wanted to do, and there was Lancelot’s unique condition to take into consideration.

"Is falling for me, love?" Liam asked, diverting his gaze. "It doesn’t sound like what I feel for my lover."

"Of course, it is," Lancelot declared, his hand snapping at Liam’s crossed leg, hugging it. "Brother, let’s spend all our lives together. Ahh, imagine the fun we’d have!"

Liam’s survival instincts kicked in, both figuratively and physically. He pulled himself away, his leg eventually escaping that dangerous hug.

Lancelot just laughed and lay back down while Liam warily inspected him and put aside any hopes of resting. There were corpses to go through, so he summoned his pipe and began undressing them.

Still, Liam had grown more talkative after leaving Krosstoen’s mountain, gradually, and not by much, but the change had happened, and he was with someone he trusted and could offer comparisons.

"Do you see this as fun?" Liam wondered, gazing at the expanse of corpses, most mangled beyond recognition.

Liam didn’t feel bad about killing, at least not those people, but he couldn’t see that widespread death as a fun adventure. It was just empty.

Silence followed, but Liam heard rustling, as well as the return of the scorching gaze. Yet, some seriousness also invaded the atmosphere, like a spiritual depth he could taste.

"Brother, I know I’m special," Lancelot admitted. "Ever since I was born, I had everything life could offer. My mortal family was rich, my cultivation talent is only slightly short of perfect, and my looks are great."

Liam stopped his undressing of corpses but didn’t look back. That life might have sounded perfect, but he knew the suffering that Perfection could cause.

"Everything always came easy to me," Lancelot continued. "From courting Fairies, to fighting, to just excelling at everything. It’s so natural that life itself feels easy."

Liam shared part of that inborn advantage. He didn’t know about looks, and his predicament was definitely terrible, but his body, his soil, was superior, facilitating learning techniques. fгeewebnovёl.com

That probably was the reason why Liam had synchronized his flesh with his Qi so early in his cultivation journey, why Lucy had remained shocked by how quickly he had learned the circulation technique, and more.

Of course, Liam needed at least that to have a shot at overcoming his odds, and it came with drawbacks, but it remained something others didn’t enjoy, the Dragon King probably being the only exception.

"But I am of the Ancestral Phoenix," Lancelot added, "Directly. Brother, can you imagine the curse of being so passionate about a life so easy it becomes boring?"

Liam couldn’t relate to the boredom Lancelot had already mentioned, but he had his parallel for that curse. Despite everything, he had found a new home and people he cared about, only to abandon them due to his hatred.

That even stretched to how Liam interacted with those he cared about. He didn’t consider himself good. He couldn’t with so many corpses around him, but he was honest. It was in his nature, one he had to reject with those that deserved everything he had to offer.

"You can’t overcome your bottleneck," Liam pointed out, resuming undressing corpses.

"That was lucky," Lancelot declared. "I only wish the journey to overcoming it would have been less boring. Well, I did find my sworn Brother."

The rustling transformed into footsteps. Liam heard Lancelot approaching, eventually looking up to see him staring down at him.

"But, Brother, be honest," Lancelot said. "Are you truly telling me you feel no enjoyment? We are overcoming a challenge that has remained undefeated for centuries. Its owners tried and failed to stop us despite their tricks and preparations, and we did that fighting side by side."

Lancelot squatted at Liam’s side, his smile seemingly able to stir Liam’s competitive spirit, passion, or whatever the Ancestral Phoenix’s bloodline could affect.

"The Heavens are opposing us," Lancelot stated, "And we are still winning. Doesn’t that fill you with pride? Isn’t there some instinct screaming in excitement at the odds we are defying?"

Lancelot leaned slightly forward, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "The world tried to snuff out our passion, and it ran away in flames."

There was some truth to what Lancelot was saying, one that Liam knew he had already failed to realize, but that could go deeper now.

Liam had clearly felt what Lancelot had described when he had defeated the level three snake. That feeling had probably existed a year ago, too, when he had shielded Melissa, finally abiding by the role his name carried.

In hindsight, there were other instances, too. Becoming a rooting expert despite Liam’s impossible requirements and through his Master’s invention did bring happiness.

Alchemy also featured smaller versions of those instances. That field was an endless game of overcoming variables, and Liam was gradually accumulating victories that brought him closer to his great Master.

Yet, all that was clouded in goals larger than life, and probably the Heavens themselves. Satisfaction wasn’t in Liam’s vocabulary because his standards were sky-high, so distant that they blinded him to what stood in front of him, his grim predicament polluting any thrill his impossible feats could generate.

"Your fire might be dark," Lancelot announced, "But you should still enjoy releasing it. What’s the point of living if you don’t enjoy being alive?"

And Lancelot was undoubtedly right. Liam felt sure of it. He had his drive and things he wanted. He even rejoiced when he got them, but he never appreciated those events, not in any meaningful way.

’I guess it was different with the Black Bow,’ Liam internally admitted as his hand snapped back, grabbing the wrist reaching for his bottom, drawing a clear line with that eccentric new friend. "I have a lover."

"I’m not jealous," Lancelot reassured. "I’ll even ask Chief Grace for permission."

Liam didn’t know if it was something in Lancelot’s tone, expression, or in the fact that Grace might switch sides if spirit stones were involved, but he ended up laughing.