Born in Blood
173 Seven Clans
Liam began with giving the Troup the Jades he had in his possession.
They were linked to Jargon's communication device, but only Jargon's Jade was connected to Liam's.
"We will part here," Liam spoke to Jargon, but his words were spread from one person to the other.
"Split yourselves into groups and spread throughout the lands. Those who are able, should join a Sect. If you cannot, then settle for work and familiarize yourself with how the regions function. Once a month, report to Jargon anything of importance."
Taking out several space-rings from his pocket, Liam gave it to Jargon.
"Those should have about 250 cubic meters of space total. I've added 45,000 'Ora' Stones for you to divide amongst the groups."
Reluctantly accepting them, Jargon looked concerned.
The surrounding Blood Troupe members raised their brows in shock. That was no little sum.
"My liege… this is too much. Won't you need them yourself? Where will you go?"
Liam raised a brow at Jargon's concern. Studying his mental waves, Liam realized the man was truthful in his worry.
'He's trustable. I don't know about the rest, but if they're all like him, then I won't have anything to worry about.'
"Those rings aren't just for storage and money. They're filled with Rank 2 and 3 techniques, spells, pills, body tempering and cultivation methods, as well as Psionic Runes. I've separated them into different elements for you to distribute."
At his words, Jargon began sweating profusely, and the Troupe members had wide-eyed expressions.
Jargon stuttered as he tried to find words to say, but his tongue was tied to a knot.
"I don't need a thank you. Grow strong and become useful. Think of it as an investment that you'll eventually pay me back with."
Silence ensued.
"...What's an investment?" a scrawny member questioned, instantly suffering a silencing slap to the back of the head.
"If I have a need for you some time in the future, I'll let you know."
Liam shot Jargon a knowing look, who gulped and began to spread the rings among the twenty groups of people containing one-hundred men each.
After paying their deep respects to Liam, they dispersed in random directions.
Jargon lingered. There was a solemn look on his face, and he couldn't but slightly smile.
"Thank you, my liege. I will never forget your generosity.'
Taking out one last ring, Liam gave it to the man.
"There's a Rank 4 tempering method in that ring attuned to your element including a Rank 3 cultivation method."
Jargon felt his heart-rate spike.
The man was in luck. Only Janice had a Rank 4 tempering method in her ring, and her water element matched his.
Liam raised a hand to stop the man from expressing gratitude. He had no need for techniques and spells he didn't use. Although he could sell them, Liam decided to gamble a bit with Jargon.
"Don't disappoint me. Join the biggest Sect you can and report to me once a month in secret. I have high hopes."
Jargon nodded firmly. He would feel more uncomfortable if Liam didn't have a mission for him.
After a few more words (Jargon repeatedly thanking him), the two parted ways, and Liam was alone again.
The first thing he did was explore.
Liam quietly changed his appearance and blended into the crowd of randoms.
Ilali was peaceful and serene.
At least, for the time being.
Liam was still in a Safe Zone, browsing through the items sold by the jolly merchants.
He picked up a few items of his own.
Simple wearables that helped him blend in – black wrappings around his hands and arms, hiding the faint etchings on his skin, and a silver, chinese-looking hairpin to tie up his long hair in a bun.
Moving forward, Liam decided to ask around.
"Can you point me to the nearest Sector, senior?" Liam asked a stern-faced, short, wrinkly old man sitting leisurely behind a clothing stall.
Liam was familiar with the tradition of the Ilalians.
He cupped his right fist over his left palm, which was a gesture of respect.
At the same time, he had to be careful not to do it the other way around… since that would apparently initiate a duel to the death.
"A thousand steps from here, past the hill, is the Soaring Rain Sect," the old man grumbled, scratching his goatee. "You look like an ambitious young buck, but unless you're of water, ya can't join."
"They're element exclusive?"
The old man nodded, his dark eyes fixed to Liam's.
"It's common 'round here. Most Sects have special martial arts that they refine and pass down over the generations, and more often than not it requires a specific element. The Seven Clans are the same."
Liam paused for a second.
"Can you tell me more about them?"
Although Liam knew about the Seven Clans, it was of the general kind. He quietly slid 10 'Ora' Stones across the old man's counter as he asked his question.
Sighing, the old man pushed back the Stones, which made Liam raise a brow.
"Kid, I know your people aren't the best, but not everyone can be bribed. Be careful when doing things like that. I'll tell you about them nonetheless."
Taking back the 'Ora' Stones, Liam nodded firmly.
"They're over at the Main Lands. The hotspot where all the powerful martial artists gather. Civilians are not allowed there due to its dangerous wildlife, but the men and women there are even more dangerous."
Liam nodded, intrigued.
"The Seven Clans live there. My knowledge of them is little, but the most powerful of them all, is the Luminous Light Sect. They are few in number, but all of them are of the light element."
Liam raised his brows, amazed. After lingering for a second, he pursed his lips and asked casually:
"Are there any darkness exclusive Sects?"
Instantly, the old man's features twisted. A mix of fear, disgust and anger.
"Look. If you want to go far in this country, don't ask those kinds of questions. I've said enough, hurry along!"
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