Liam’s analysis of his standing had been thorough, involving all aspects of combat and the cultivation world as a whole.

The social and political aspects of life had always been Liam’s weakest point, but he had made so much improvement there that he had become a new man many times over.

Even when it came to things Liam might still not understand, his mindset had changed. Hesitation and confusion wouldn’t present themselves again. His new philosophy on life had fixed that.

While there was no such thing as too many resources, Liam was more than fine in that department, too. He had an abundant collection of alchemical products, both healing and poison-related. He even possessed two rank 2 magical weapons and the rank 3 fan.

The martial arts department was also quite complete. Liam had comprehensive sets of rank 2 and rank 3 techniques, including a rare healing one. He obviously wanted more, but that wasn’t something he could force.

The same went for the extreme-grade circulation technique. Liam would go after it if he had any idea where to find it. Still, his high-grade one was serving him well enough. He wasn’t even sure he could handle the upgrade.

Through alchemical products and superior techniques, Liam was making good use of his lineage, of his unique threshold. There was still some fine-tuning to do, and his cultivation had yet to grow completely, but both projects were ongoing.

Grace would also find a solution to the ingredients. After everything Liam had seen her achieve, he had no doubt his personal stashes would soon be full again.

However, if there was one problem Liam could find within himself, the one thing that prevented him from being perfect, or at least complete, was his fighting style.

That had been one of Liam’s advantages in the past. The Divine Cult had made him superior to his fellow outer disciples. He had more combat training and actual fighting experience than anyone else in the Sect’s first plateau, but things had rapidly changed.

The more Liam’s superiority showed, the quicker he climbed through the cultivation journey, especially in terms of his enemies’ quality. It had started with Randall having a full year of experience over him, but it had now reached the point where his opponents could have head starts of decades.

Liam had gone by, even achieving unbelievable successes, through a mixture of resolute disregard for his health, strategy, inborn advantages, and luck. He had truly gone far despite his shortcomings, but that might not always be enough.

Overwhelmingly superior power beat experience and training, but not always, and the enormous proof was lying right next to the table.

The level three bear had been stronger than Liam in almost every regard, but it was now dead, killed by a weaker opponent. The landslide had been to blame, but Liam could find a deeper explanation that resonated with him.

The bear didn’t know how to use its superior power properly. It hadn’t died because it was weak. Liam had killed it because its incredible strength had become a disadvantage in the right conditions.

Now, Liam wasn’t a beast. That had been beaten out of him. He wouldn’t make fatal mistakes due to mere landslides, but the cultivation world had plenty of methods, and they could be particularly insidious. The Guild’s formation was one such case.

All of Liam’s achievements had proven that losing to weaker opponents was possible, and he wasn’t arrogant enough to believe that it couldn’t happen to him. Learning to wield his power to its utmost wouldn’t remove that danger entirely, but it would improve his odds even further, fixing his last real flaw.

Like that, Liam would be certain that he had truly done his best, that he hadn’t been complacent in the slightest.

Nevertheless, Liam didn’t have teachers at his disposal. He couldn’t appear in public, let alone find someone willing to teach him a real fighting style.

Liam couldn’t even repeat the Disciplinary Elder’s lessons endlessly because they were incomplete. He had been interrupted too many times until he had eventually been forced to leave.

Another issue was that no fighting style could suit Liam for the same reason that nothing was created with him in mind. He needed something that made use of his inborn advantages, but such things didn’t exist in the world.

Yet, there was a simple solution, an idea that had actually come from Robert. He was a great fighter, capable enough to earn Lancelot’s approval and Liam’s surprise, and his training couldn’t have been more straightforward.

Robert had fought until he had learned how, developing a personal style that suited him best.

Liam couldn’t just pick up random fights, especially with his idea of what they should be, but something called "battle cages" might suit his needs.

Also, there was an additional point to the whole matter. Liam wasn’t making great progress with the third layer of Qi mastery. Wanting to learn everything so quickly was probably greedy, but it didn’t hurt to improve his odds.

Alchemy was already helping, and Liam half-believed that the Qi of a rooting expert, even his black energy, wasn’t ideal to perform what his great Master had been able to do.

Yet, Liam could add combat experience to the equation. After all, to counter attacks with Qi alone, he had to know them inside out. It was the same theory behind antidotes. Unless he mastered how the poison worked, he couldn’t create its solution.

It was all a matter of seeing whether Liam had gotten the right impression and his idea was feasible with everything going on, but only the two swordsmen could provide that answer.

Liam’s words had glued Lucas’ and Troy’s eyes on him. Grace showed nothing but confidence to put a united front, but Liam was holding her hand. He could tell that she hadn’t been unaffected.

Of course, most of that came from Liam’s crazy claim. He had publicly announced that he would kill Lady Jessica, a branching expert, which was simply mental, or at least should be.

Lucas couldn’t help but take a second look at the bear’s corpse. He even knew that Liam had faced Jessica, albeit the specifics were unclear. Still, the truth was that Liam was there in one piece, while Jessica was missing an arm.

As impossible as the feat was, Liam might be the one capable of accomplishing it, which demanded a serious reply, if anything, out of respect for the strength he had already shown.

"The battle cages are no place for an expert of your caliber," Troy ended up being the one speaking first.

"They are places where beggars fight for the amusement of others," Lucas expanded upon the topic. "Driving themselves mad in the hope of earning a handful of spirit stones or being spotted by some force."

While Grace had shared her view that fighting was a waste of money, she knew Liam had his reasons, so she supported him.

"Can my beloved join them or not?" Grace questioned. "And would it be possible to hide there?"

"Unreasonable Brother, you’ll be discovered in no time with that black Qi of yours," Lucas pointed out. "Many have also seen your face, build, and techniques."

"I won’t use any of those," Liam suggested, "And I’ll hide my face."

The build was an issue Liam couldn’t affect, but Grace might be able to work her magic with clothes as she had done with herself.

"What do you think?" Lucas wondered, peeking at his companion. "He looks like he really wants to do it."

"It’s training," Troy commented, keeping his eyes on Liam, having figured him out.

"Ah, well," Lucas pondered out loud. "It might be possible. Still, Sister, I don’t expect that business to match your standards."

Liam felt Grace’s dangerous smile coming even before she wore it, and he couldn’t help but chuckle when he heard her reply.

"My beloved will win every fight," Grace declared. "Since it’s obvious gambling is involved, I’d be more worried about the bookmakers."