Liam's life became nothing more than complete darkness, alternated by a few and sparse moments of short clarity that shed light on the Divine Cult's cruel training methods.
Moreover, the extreme physical conditioning, the rigorous workouts, and the countless repetitions of fighting stances were only the most superficial aspects of that training regimen.
The white-masked man's never-ending teachings were the true enemy. They left deeper, psychological marks, wanting to brainwash Liam. They were more gradual and tamer than what he had experienced with the human hiss, but remained dangerous nonetheless.
To make things worse, the darkness wasn't harmless, either. If anything, it intensified that already cruel training regimen since everything went directly to Liam's subconscious in those moments.
Of course, Liam couldn't really study that feature. He didn't know anything about brainwashing techniques or similar topics. He had simply caught himself performing the very attacks he was learning in the Divine Cult when he tried to rebel against his jailer, leading to that troubling conclusion.
At that pace, it seemed Liam would really disappear, becoming a mindless weapon of the Divine Cult.
Yet, even those worries were short-lived since they could only appear whenever Liam's mind awakened, which was never too often or for too long since his jailer paid close attention to his rising tolerance to the drug.
Liam's predicament looked utterly hopeless until everything changed.
One seemingly random day, Liam's mind snapped completely awake, featuring no grogginess or confusion, instead wielding eerie sharpness.
Liam hadn't even been sleeping. He had been sitting cross-legged on his small room's stone bed when that radical change happened. Complete darkness had been controlling his mind, only for that eerie sharpness to replace it in the next second.
The sudden change overwhelmed Liam, leading to shock that made him snap to his feet. He stood on the stone bed, inspecting his surroundings, worried that his balance might fail him, only for his body to match his mind's sharpness.
Complete control had descended upon Liam's mind and body, and he couldn't understand why.
Nevertheless, before Liam could think, his mind delivered clearer versions of his foggy memories, even adding echoes it had managed to record during its dark moments.
Liam couldn't help but hold his head with one hand while his brain processed those memories. Almost everything gradually came back to him in its most pristine shape. He began to recall every training session, albeit in a cluttered form that masked the passage of time.
Everything Liam recalled felt like it had happened on the same day. Yet, merely counting the number of scenes rejected that conclusion.
'How long have I been here?' Liam wondered before more memories led his attention to his body, making him undress.
Liam quickly slipped out of his tight, black robe to check specific spots from his memories. He saw the poorly healed wounds on his knuckles due to the endless punches thrown at the wooden pillars. He spotted the marks on his arms, thighs, and shoulders left behind by his jailer's cane.
Liam also saw countless green bruises on his torso and fingers due to the rigorous conditioning, but something else stood out beneath those superficial marks.
A strength Liam couldn't understand filled every inch of his body. He knew it didn't come from mere muscles. It was closer to feeling energized after a fulfilling meal, only far deeper and strangely magical.
In a way, Liam felt complete but also cramped. He was full of energy that wanted to expand outward, as if to grow, only to be limited by barriers inside of him.
And the answer sounded obvious. Liam was ignorant but not stupid. That strange energy and his sudden awakening belonged to a magical realm, so he linked both to his warm core.
'This cultivation stuff is deep,' Liam realized. He had always believed that, but his mind only knew about flesh and bones. The strength those legendary beings possessed escaped his understanding in ways he couldn't even begin to conceive.
Nevertheless, the strange but generally positive development couldn't distract Liam from his predicament. He was still trapped. He was still in a cruel cage that he didn't know how to escape, and he wasn't alone.
Faint tremors ran through the floor before rumbling noises resounded from a wall. A rectangular cavity appeared on that vertical, smooth surface, which began to open into the room.
Liam's brain had never been sharper, his thoughts darting faster than ever. Despite having yet to review the processed memories from a more aware perspective, he knew what was happening. His jailer was coming in to administer the drug.
The quick realization led to a similarly quick conclusion. Liam had never felt stronger or readier. That was his chance to escape, so he charged forward, his body instinctively abiding by what he had learned inside the Divine Cult.
Before the stone door could finish opening, the hooded jailer found a pair of fingers aimed directly at his left eye, forcing him to dodge to his right.
Despite the man's incredible reflexes, the piercing fingers touched his hood's edge, opening a small tear in its fabric, before advancing past his head.
Liam wasn't done. He half-stepped forward, twisting his body to attack with his left hand. He lunged his palm forward, aiming it at his jailer's chest.
Yet, the surprise effect had waned by then. The hooded man lifted his right arm and blocked the palm strike.
Liam was already on the move again. His right hand was still past the jailer's head, and his fingers formed a sharp hook as he swung it at him.
However, the jailer was faster, delivering a devastating punch to Liam's belly that he couldn't see due to his arm standing in the way.
Another piece of Liam's training instinctively came out. The punch was unbelievably heavy, but he tensed his abdomen and bent his knees, enduring it and preventing it from sending him flying away.
The punch still made Liam slide over the floor, but only by a few centimeters, enough for his swinging hook to hit the jailer's left cheek. His fingertips only scratched the man's skin, but clung to the cloth covering his face, threatening to remove it.
But the jailer unleashed his inhuman reaction speed once again, charging ahead, winning a contest of raw strength and swinging the arm on his chest, pushing Liam away.
Liam couldn't oppose that strength. His palm was still pressing on the jailer's arm, so the swing flung him away, making him lose his foothold and slam on the small room's opposite wall.
The crash was debilitating, but not nearly bad enough to immobilize Liam. Yet, the jailer exploited that tiny opening to reach him and smear something warm on his face.
And Liam panicked, but nothing happened. He felt the warmth on his face, but no darkness assaulted him. His mind remained perfectly awake while the cloth on the jailer's face fell open, exposing features beyond his green eyes.