Battle was alive, a living being with a distinct rhythm, like breathing or a heartbeat.

Liam heard it clearly. He felt it on his skin, his closed eyes behind the mask enhancing those sensations. The whistling, the severing of air, the warning his animal instincts rang created a perfect picture in his mind, telling him exactly what was coming, how quickly, and from where.

A mere half step was enough to dodge the descending blade. The sword swung through the air a few centimeters from Liam’s nose, continuing to go down, missing him completely.

Other sensations followed. The faint brushing of a shoe against the floor resounded, suggesting a twisting motion. A forceful exhale also reached Liam’s ears, together with fabric twisting. He even heard muscle tensing in the background.

The sword had stopped below Liam’s waist, but the one wielding it was about to slash horizontally, wanting to cleave him in two. Yet, Liam’s foot was already on its handle, delivering a stomp.

A clang echoed when the sword hit the floor. A thud followed when the wrist slammed on the stone surface. Liam heard cracking afterward, feeling bones break through his bare foot.

That wasn’t the end. There was another sword swinging at Liam’s head, already before his white mask. The blade cut through its Qi-enhanced fabric as if it were butter, finding an open mouth waiting for it.

Clinking resounded when Liam bit down on the blade, stopping it between his teeth. He opened his eyes at that point. He didn’t need them, but he knew the battle was over. He had already launched the counterattack after all.

That morning, the battle cages had matched Liam against two rooting experts, two swordsmen. One was at his feet, his sword hand crushed under his left foot. The other was on Liam’s right, pure shock on his face seeing his blade stuck between teeth.

The shock soon twisted into pain. Liam had lifted his right arm, slamming his palm on the standing opponent’s elbow, breaking it, blood spurting as the limb bent oddly, bone piercing the flesh.

The swordsman didn’t get the chance to cry since Liam was already spinning on his foot, releasing his other opponent’s broken hand to deliver a roundhouse kick.

The kick hit the standing opponent’s belly, bending his whole figure before it flew away.

The swordsman at Liam’s feet tried to get away in that window, but didn’t get the chance. Liam had already thrown himself down, his elbow landing on the man’s cheek, piercing skin and shattering bone.

The man slammed on the floor headfirst, half of it broken and bleeding, the impact making him see stars. However, he didn’t forget to use the only approach that would save his life.

"I concede!" The man cried, and the punch that had been ready to squash his skull stopped right before his ear.

Liam spat the sword still in his teeth and straightened, not even glancing at his opponents, a cacophony of cheers washing over his ears.

"White Mask! White Mask! White Mask!" The audience cried in unison, cheering for the fighter who had become a celebrity in the last six months.

Liam didn’t care for fame. He didn’t even bother hiding his chin. His mask had broken so many times in the last period that Grace had started purchasing them in bulk.

Instead, Liam focused on his perception, albeit focusing wasn’t the right word. Six months of nonstop fighting had honed his senses into a continuous perception-oriented technique specialized in battle.

The incredible but basic tool Liam had gained after the breakthrough had been polished to the extreme, like the sharpening of a dull blade that could finally be worthy of a battlefield.

Of course, that wasn’t all that had improved in six months. Liam had never felt more confident in his own skin after fighting almost every day. He knew his body inside out and had accumulated so much battle experience that his limbs moved on their own, each action perfect, with no wasteful moves, and using all he was capable of to its utmost.

Truth was, Liam had felt like that for a while already, but the current battle had confirmed it without a shadow of a doubt.

The battle cages didn’t always provide decent opponents. Actually, that was quite rare. It was why Liam had often been outnumbered in the recent period to even the odds, but the challenge had long since been no more.

’This training has run its course,’ Liam acknowledged. ’Now, how do I leave? Do I drown everything in poison?’

As simple as Liam’s strategy had been, problems had arisen, and none of them was slight. He hadn’t just fought in those six months. If anything, his fame inside the battle cages had been the least of his deeds, although his greatest issue stemmed from them.

Liam looked up, inspecting a certain closed cave near the tall ceiling. The boulder and whatever formation tried to hide it, but he sensed the boundless presence behind them, giving him a clear idea of what resided inside.

’Two months in a row,’ Liam cursed. ’Why is a leafing expert so interested in watching me fight?’

For some reason, Liam had gained quite the troublesome fan two months ago, someone at the level of Sect Leaders who never missed his fights.

Needless to say, Liam’s paranoia was over the roof, no matter how much his de facto leader said otherwise. Actually, the leader in question was one of the problems Liam had to overcome, and he was a branching expert.

’This is what not destroying anything for a while does to your reputation,’ Liam recalled his Master’s words. ’Well, they can’t keep me here if there is no here anymore.’

Liam didn’t really have doubts. If the battle cages became a problem, he would kill them, becoming the sole owner of whatever right stemmed from them.

Still, Liam also understood that those superior problems were the natural course of the cultivation journey. It was normal to encounter them in greater quantity because Liam wasn’t so distant from them anymore.

After all, the number of Liam’s minor roots had been among one of his significant improvements in that period. He had a whopping eighty now, merely a few steps from the realm only he could reach, as well as closer than ever to the superior stage.