Wreath of Lilies, Cauldron of Poison

Chapter 23

A Disciple must Kowtow Three Times

After forcing a Low-Grade Rejuvenating Pill into Derrick’s mouth and making sure he was properly healed, the Illumca and Connie returned to Illumca’s room.

“Don’t we need to feed him?” Illumca asked while they ascended the stairs.

“The pill is filled with the nutrients he needs to keep living. Not enough for him to regain his strength, though.”

“The Potions I know cannot do that. Is there a difference between them?”

“I don’t know about Potions. But Pills are made from natural ingredients, therefore they are nutritiously balanced. When I have the ingredients, you should try a Fasting Pill. It will stop you from feeling hunger with one pill a day. Good for diet.”

Illumca did not ask the question because she was concerned about Derrick, rather that she felt nervous as Connie had hinted that she wanted to talk and could not help but start a small talk.

Once they were in the room, Connie sat on the bed and gestured for Illumca to stand before her.

“You said you have the assassin’s memory. Do you also have the skills?”

“Yes. Her dagger mastery was at level 4 and Stealth at Level 5. She was at Level 31. Most of the skills she had were dagger based skills.”

“How about your own? You are able to use magic, right?”

“I can use them. Mainly basic magics like Fireball and Enchant Weapon. My main element is fire,” She chanted the word Fireball and a butterfly made of fire appeared on her palm. It floated for a few seconds before she extinguished it. “For some reason the fireballs keep turning into butterflies.”

“Oho,” Connie rubbed her chin with her finger, nodding slowly. “Does it cause trouble to your spells?”

“I don’t think so. They can still do the same damage. I’m just…not used to it.”

“Curious. Can you use other types of spells other than fire based spells?”

“Sadly, no. Most mages are stuck to one element unless they are gifted with the innate talents for Double Elemental Mastery. Even that is rare,” she said with a sad tone. “I’m currently at level 10. I need to raise my level if I want to use other spells.”

“Hmm…I see. Wait here.”

Connie stepped outside and returned with two familiar daggers.

“These are the daggers that belonged to the assassin. Show me what you can do with them.”

Illumca took the two daggers and held the both of them at eye level. She stepped forward to do a single thrust followed by the other one, swiped back with both daggers, and reversed the grip. “Hundred Thrust!”

As she declared, her daggers blurred and turned into flashes of red. It was very different from the one Kelly used. When the attack finished, she relaxed and returned to a passive stance.

“Hmm, acceptable form. Could use a lot of improvements,” she commented, rubbing her chin. “So right now you have the skills of both a Mage and an Assassin. A Mage Assassin? As expected of my genius.”

Illumca was elated. Two jobs? Only some of the most powerful people could adopt more than one jobs. So far she had never met one who had the gift!

“Thank you!” she felt so happy that she unconsciously moved forward to embrace Connie.

Connie held up a hand to stop her.

“Hold on. I’m not finished.”

She slowly sat on the bed with a serious look. “Skills are fine and all, however I will not have my disciple be without a true cultivation technique.”

“Disciple?”

“What? You don’t want to?”

“Never! It would be my pleasure!!” she exclaimed.

“Good,” she nodded with a smile. “Now, you must accept me properly as your master. Kowtow before me three times and call me Master.”

Illumca’s ears twitched as she furrowed her brows in confusion. “Kowtow?”

Connie slapped her forehead dramatically. “Ah, I forget that it’s not common knowledge here!” she instructed. “You must get on your knees and bow until your forehead hits the floor. Three times, no more and no less.”

The dark elf immediately went down on her knees and kowtowed three times with so much enthusiasm that her forehead swollen for a little bit.

“Master!” she called out happily.

“Good. Good! No matter how you look like, no matter how you turn out to be. A murderer or a saint, you are now my Named Disciple,” she exclaimed proudly. “And as a Named Disciple, I shall bestow upon you the memory of a technique most suited for you.”

Connie bent down and touched her forehead against hers.

Illumca’s cheeks went red from the sudden intimacy.

“Don’t let your mind wander!” Connie scolded. “Now, close your eyes.”

Connie chanted a spell for Memory Bestowal. An esoteric technique known by all experts of Jianghu. It is only given to those who are chosen as successors, as the memory bestowed usually contained secrets known only to the individual sects.

Illumca’s eyes were closed and could only see darkness. Moments later the darkness suddenly parted and she could see white clouds on a snowy mountain.

“AAAAH!” she screamed as she realized that she was standing on nothing, floating in the sky.

She wiggled around uselessly before realizing that she was fine. After letting out a trembling sigh, she looked at her hands and found that she was translucent.

“Where am I?”

She tried to move forward, but she had no control over her body’s direction as she flew towards a certain mountain peak where she saw a red color in the midst of a world of pure white.

It was a beautiful woman with a veiled straw hat wearing a stunning red robe. The edges of her robe dragged behind her as she walked with steps so light that she did not leave a trace on the snow. As if she was an ephemeral fairy in a solitary world.

Within her hands were two daggers with decorations shaped like butterfly in flight.

Her steps grew faster before she leapt into the air, trailing a beautiful arc, before landing on a mound of snow playfully. The mound broke apart, dispersing into the air.

The woman appeared to be saying something, yet illumca could hear no sound.

She heavily stepped forward, grazing the snow and bravely thrusting forward from a downward position with both daggers.

illumca could feel the name of the technique forming in her mind.

“Phantom Monarch Butterfly. Opening move: Butterfly Taking Flight.”

The daggers formed two mesmerizing arc of energy that carved through the snow piling beneath. The momentum took her flying three meters into the air. She threw her head back and somersaulted once in the air, daggers extending downwards.

“Second Move: Butterfly Seeking Flower.”

The right dagger made a circle outward while the left moved a smaller circle inward. Leaving a trail of phantom butterflies which confuses those who sees it. A move both beautiful and deadly.

Illumca felt her heart throb when she saw her movements. How could a move be so beautiful? It was like the dance of something not of this world. A fairy flitting about teasingly. When one tries to touch her, she disappears.

The woman stopped in the middle of the movement and lightly flipping her body, landing softly on the ground. A smile was visible from underneath the veil. She appeared to say something as she ran towards the figure under the snow-covered pine tree. Illumca could not see the face for the upper half of his body was obscured by the shade.

She wanted to try and see the figure, but her view was suddenly pulled upwards and she returned to the room she was in.

The dark elf wheezed as she tried to regain her sense. That feeling of flight was disorienting.

“Did you see the movements?” Connie asked, now sitting on the bed.

“What was that?!”

“Memory Bestowal. You saw the memory of a person long gone. How was it?”

Illumca remembered the moves that she saw. The beautiful, ethereal movements that mesmerized her, “They were…breath taking.”

Connie rubbed her chin, explaining proudly. “The Phantom Monarch Butterfly Art. One of the Eight Supreme Dagger Techniques of Jianghu. Few could equal it in trickiness. Mastery of its techniques allows the daggers to be as illusionary and unpredictable as a butterfly in flight.”

“That woman…who is she?”

Connie was silent for a moment, her gaze was still, no trace of emotion could be seen from them. “She was...no, dhe does not matter at this moment. You should focus instead on mastering the first techniques. As you master one, only then may you continue towards the end.”

She stood up and gave her a pat on the head with a smile. “Meditate on it, imagine every movements as if they were your own. And don’t forget to take your steps slowly and digest what you saw in that memory. Cultivation is not about speed, it’s about understanding. After all, we have all the time in the world.”

Illumca blushed at her touch and caressed her soft hand. “Yes. I’ll do that.”

“Anyway, I have a bit of business outside. I’ll be a bit late so don’t wait up.”

“Where are you going?”

“Hmm, some unfinished business of the old me.”

The dark elf nodded understandingly. “Okay. Be safe, Connie.”

After that, Connie went out to town with an unassuming cloak to hide her face. She walked for a few blocks until she found a conspicuous tavern with a life-sized carving of a bear covered in pigeon droppings.

She looked around inside until she spotted the middle-aged guard.

The man was sitting at a corner with a pint in his hand. She headed toward his table and sat opposite of him.

“Took you long enough.”

Connie winked and replied. “I have some things to attend to.”

Soon, a cheerful old man with well-groomed beard came by.

“The same with his,” Connie said, nodding appreciatively at the soft-looking beard. It was very clean and well groomed. Oiled and no sign of flaking.

The man saw her looking at his beard and stroke his beard with a smile.

“Hemp oil?” she asked, slightly feeling envious of the beard. She had such a magnificent one before. She missed having a beard. It kept her warm on cold nights.

“Hemp oil,” he answered.

The bearded innkeeper nodded with appreciation and brought them two pints of beer and a plate of soup.

“My treat,” he said.

Connie took two small sips of the beer and downed half of it in one gulp. She wiped the foam under her nose with her sleeves the way men did.

“What do you want to talk about?”

Nick took a swig from his glass and grunted. With her current look, she resembled her too much. He numbed that uncomfortable feeling with another swig before saying his piece.

“It’s about Grunford.”

Grunford. She just remembered the name of the sword that Cornelia had been seeking. She wished to be worthy of the sword, but Connie had almost forgotten about this leftover business.

“You have information about it?”

“Not just info. I know where it is.”

Connie was surprised. Everyone seemed to be searching for the sword, even Duke Gladstone. The assassins undercover in the mansion did not find it either. So how could this unseemly man could have known the place?

“Is this true?” She asked.

Nick took the plate of soup without saying anything. Using the bread he was holding, she spooned the content of the soup and drank the whole plate with the grace of an elephant dancing in a glass warehouse.

Once he finished it, he put the plate down with an audible slam and looked at her with unfriendly eyes.

“Your eyes resembled the Duke. Your stubbornness also resembled the damn bastard,” As he said so, his gaze turned melancholic. “Fortunately, your face took the best part of your mother’s.”

Ooh, that look. She thought. There is some history there.

“Are you acquainted with my mother?” she said while keeping her poker face.

“You could say that,” his guard was up once more.

A touchy subject.

Seeing his action that showed no regard for his position as an employee under her family’s name, she knew then that the friendly act he put up the first time she met him was a façade. And that his current disrespect and spiteful self was the real one. “You seem to hate my father. Why do you work for him, then?”

The man played with his glass and ran his thumb over its rim. “My hate for him is none of your business. He’s dead now anyways, so there's no point in me saying anything else about him.”

“Hmm…I see.”

“Look. Do you want to know where Grunford is?” he said, now with a more serious tone.

“Yes,” she said firmly. She had no interest for small talks when negotiating with someone like him.

“In that case, I want you to promise me something. I am going to ask you to do something in exchange for taking you to where it is when we get there, and I need you to answer, ‘yes’.”

She raised an eyebrow questioningly. “You are coming with?”

“You cannot enter the place without my help. This is non-negotiable.”

Normally, she would have killed him dead for such blatant disrespect. But these days she had better control over her emotions. Perhaps it was because Cornelia’s innate calmness affecting her. “Fine, then. What kind of thing will you ask me? Let’s get it over with instead of waiting.”

“…I can’t tell you right now. The walls have ears.”

“I won’t agree to something that may violate my belief,” she said finally after two minutes of thought.

“It won’t,” he said, taking a hit from the second glass in front of him. “Is this a deal?”

“Before that, how do you come to know this information?”

“Walls. Ears,” he gestured. “What does it matter to you where I got it?”

Connie did not believe him fully. He was a dubious fellow who followed the orders of her stepmother. Yet the disdain towards her father was real. Or at least, as real as she could understand.

“…Very well. I agree.”

“Then it’s a deal,” the man extended a hand.

She grasped it with a smile.

He leaned forward the moment he felt her hand on his and whispered. “Meet me at Alabaster Atrium the day after tomorrow. It’s in the deepest part of the Dungeon. Don’t bring outsiders.”

With that, he left the tavern and vanished into the streets.

Connie sniffed the beer and mused. “He skipped the bill, the smooth bastard.”

She did not care about such small things, but she was irked by the man and planned a small revenge as soon as she found a chance.

“Alabaster Atrium,” she repeated the name. Even with only a handful of days of being in that world, Connie knew the name.

Alabaster Atrium. The second known dungeon in the kingdom, discovered more than 200 years ago. Most of the veterans went there to try their luck, but most only managed to reach halfway before returning. Until now there had been no one who dared go past that point because the middle point was a Boss Room. And the Boss was far stronger than the things the hunters have fought before.

So many hunters were slain by the Boss that it was dubbed 'Slayer of Hunters'.

Connie smirked.

“Grunford, Slayer of Hunters. Aha, I am living in interesting times.”