Born in Blood

Chapter 85 Cruel

Liam stored the technique into his new ring, along with all his important items.

'I won't start it instantly. I don't feel comfortable doing that anyway.'

For a moment, he lingered pensively, his face growing dark.

The plan he had thought of was solid.

It had a few kinks that needed ironing out… but if he could somehow pull it off, he could make a swift escape without looking back.

'It's the only choice I have.'

He took out the Face and Body imitation pill, his gaze turning cold as he took out his shortsword and cut open his palm.

The pill absorbed the droplets of blood, twisting, curling and changing its shape.

As it soaked in blood, the white surface gathered color, slowly taking the form of a face.

More precisely, Liam's face – it copied his features down to the last detail, although stretched and caricatured.

Even the golden hue of his eye wasn't left out, and his empty left socket too.

Meanwhile, the Oni mask was still on Liam's face.

Unfortunately, he couldn't keep it on.

Storing the mask in his ring, Liam put on his white victor's robe – it looked tailored to his body perfectly, clinging to his arms and broad shoulders.

"Sir? The party is beginning shortly," notified the servant standing behind Liam's doors.

Liam exited, led by the maids and butlers.

Passing by the hallways and corridors, Liam memorized the layout of the arena with a glance.

Eventually, the servants led him to a vast hall – filled to the brim with nobles – adorned with every luxury possible.

Giant chandeliers made from what looked like diamonds hung from the ceiling, filling the space with sparkling light.

In the background, relaxing music played and spread equally throughout the air – another convenient use of inscriptions, Liam thought.

"Ladies and gentlemen, your 27?? Regional Power Tournament winner, the Blood Demon!" Whyte shouted, and all curious and amused gazes converged on Liam's figure.

The nobles looked taken aback.

For a peasant (especially someone named Blood Demon), they expected a rugged kid with a barbaric demeanor… which was the opposite of how Liam looked and carried himself.

That plain silence lasted for a moment, before the sounds of clapping gathered volume.

"Cheers!" they all raised a glass of alcohol in the air, to which Liam responded with a humble and meek smile.

Thankfully, his time as an assassin paid off – nobody could sense the discomfort and unnaturality of Liam's thin lips curving upward, except a few from the Royce family that knew him.

Venomous glares shot at him from the back of the hall – there were even some who lost their bouts hanging around the space.

Richard expressed shock (the boy's mother just died moments earlier, how could he smile like that?), Lisa expressed hatred (for obvious reasons), and Adrian expressed bitter jealousy (at a half-blood receiving such honors).

Pretending not to notice them, Liam continued to smile, shaking the hands of the rulers that approached him.

Nearly all of them congratulated him on his victory, but simultaneously hinted at wanting to sponsor him one way or the other.

A darkness cultivator was too valuable not to try, but Liam humbly denied their requests.

Of course, that didn't discourage them in the least – not with their beautiful daughters there giving Liam bashful looks.

Liam didn't give a toss, but promised to think about it.

Through that, the rulers finally relented and gave him some space.

Meanwhile, Liam's attention was on something else entirely.

Unbeknownst to the nobles, Liam had spread his mental waves throughout the space, jotting down the layout in his mind.

Six entrances connected the grand hall to other parts of the stadium.

Granted, guards and servants patrolled regularly all around them, not to mention the outside was riddled with heavy security.

Moreover, there was a problem at hand.

The imitation pill had Liam's imprint on it, meaning who ever swallowed it would take Liam's image.

However, they needed to be the same gender, height, and build.

Liam's eye scoured the hall for anyone similar to himself.

'Although the nobles have the most similarities with my build, they're too risky to copy myself with. A missing son and daughter would raise more than a few alarms.'

Though it didn't show on his face, Liam was tense.

As he continued to think, a short worker brought him a glass of wine.

He raised a dismissive hand, when he spotted the worker's stature.

It was almost too similar to his own.

Liam's eye turned dark, glancing at him from the side.

'...You'll do.'

An hour passed, and a feast was announced.

Liam sat in the seat of honor, suffering the distasteful jokes, answering the stupid questions, faking his laughs, all the while he subconsciously tracked the worker.

Time was ticking down.

The short-statured worker lingered around and diligently tended to the demanding guests, before heading towards one of the hallways.

"Honorable sirs, if you'll excuse me for just a moment," Liam called out with a slight smile. "I'll need to head to the bathroom."

After a short pause, those seated at the table gave Liam a dismissive hand before chatting with their own.

Liam didn't make it look like he was rushing as he trailed behind the worker.

The hall he entered wasn't as bright as any other, presumably since it was where the workers did their jobs. Though, there weren't too many maids and butlers around, since most were accompanied with serving the grand hall.

Liam watched from a distance as the short man entered the pantry room, patiently waiting behind a corner for him to exit.

A few minutes later, the man left the kitchen carrying a large tray with drinks on it.

His expression shook when he heard clicking noises down the dark, empty corridor.

Liam had his back turned as he fiddled with a locked door.

"Sir?" the short worker called out, slowly approaching him tray in hand.

Liam remained silent as the man continued to call out.

Eve's death taught Liam one thing.

The world was cruel, but he had to be crueler.

Liam used Cartilage Brace and chopped at the workers neck as he got close, instantly knocking him out.

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