CHAPTER 26: CHAPTER 26

"Ethan, I came on orders," Seraphina said, her voice cold as lake-ice, eyes narrowing with disappointment.

"I intended to resolve what happened in the past peacefully, but it seems even ten years at Serene Mirror Lake haven’t cleansed you of your stubbornness or arrogance."

She stepped forward, her aura flickering with frosty command.

"Given that, today I shall teach you proper respect."

A chill flickered through the air, but Ethan only offered a small, unblinking nod.

"That’s more like it," he said, voice hollow and even. "Let’s see what all these saintly titles are worth in a real contest."

If Seraphina hadn’t been the sect’s prized saintness, Ethan would never have given her the pretense of a warning.

Ten years of silent endurance had thinned his patience, and the glint in his eye said plainly he’d welcome any excuse to settle accounts.

But before he could move, a figure stepped between them. Kain’s footsteps cut through the tension, placing himself squarely before Seraphina, sword hand ready.

"Let me handle this, Saintness. He’s not worth your attention," he said with forced bravado, puffing himself up.

Ethan’s face curved into a faint smirk.

"You, Kain? Still pretending to be brave? Funny coming from the same little insect I squashed three years running."

The taunt stabbed deep, and Kain’s face went red with rage.

"You’re courting death!" he roared.

Spiritual energy roaring to life as the aura of a Nascent Soul cultivator seethed around him. Where ten years ago Kain had cower and sulked, now he blazed with new-found power—cultivation, ambition, and bruised pride.

But Ethan, too, had been forged by time, body and spirit hammered until neither would break.

And in the world of physical cultivators, true power isn’t just measured by anything. The system’s evaluation set Ethan as middling in the Soul Formation realm, but in truth, his ability to fight across realms was terrifying.

He could shatter experts of the Void Amalgamation Realm with sheer force and technique. If, instead of the system, he’d measured himself by the Azure Origin Dao Sect’s standards alone, such growth would have been branded monstrous.

The confrontation swelled—Seraphina icy and unmoving, Kain breathing hard, Ethan barely stirred but the air itself seemed to crackle.

Sword and scythe nearly drawn, power cascading outward. Snow dust whirled, tension twisted, and something ancient and cold seemed ready to awaken.

But before violence could erupt, a voice, low and melodic, cut through the standoff.

"Enough."

From the path, striding tall as the northern wind, came a woman wreathed in velvet black. She was voluptuous but carried her strength like a challenge—a short, sleek mane of golden-blonde hair framed her masked face, her cloak rippled with talisman-thread. Beneath the mask, her eyes glittered dark blue, gaze focused, appraising, and disarmingly beautiful. Confidence and command rolled from her in silent waves—the air around her sharp as a drawn sword.

Despite never seeing her before, Ethan immediately picked out the flare of power and subtle danger hidden under her calmness.

Every muscle of her body looked honed from countless battles, her stance soft but instantly lethal, her presence so contained and elegant that it seemed to draw all breaths to silence.

Kain instinctively raised his voice, surprised and uncertain.

"Who are you?" His cultivation rank was enough to daunt most, but in this presence, even he felt small.

Seraphina shot him a sharp look, as if rebuking a child.

"Mind yourself. She’s the third commander of the Black Oath."

Kain’s face flickered from protest to shock.

The Black Oath—an elite force under the Empress, infamous even among the sect’s inner circle—were seldom seen.

Most believed them to be shadows, a myth of punishment and enforcement. None but the most loyal took orders from the Empress herself, their true numbers and strength were a whispered dread even to peak masters.

Each of the four Black Oath commanders were said to be among the most terrifying warriors in the Azure Origin Dao Sect—peerless in killing, relentless in command, and shrouded in a hundred legends. To cross them was to court annihilation.

Kain scrambled, words tumbling fast.

"Disciple Kain offers greetings—I apologize for my disrespect, Commander, I didn’t recognize you!"

The masked woman, Lilith, merely waved a gloved hand, voice softer now but carrying authority.

"No offense taken."

She turned her gaze to Ethan, and something unspoken flickered there. She seemed slightly amused, perhaps relieved.

A minute later and the snow here would be bloodier than the fields of Crimson Mist Peak.

For a long time, Ethan had felt eyes on him—always unseen, always distant but discerning.

As his strength grew, so did his sense that a watcher lingered in the shadows.

For years, he’d suspected a sentinel or rival, someone tasked to gauge his power or his heart.

Finally, five years ago, he’d become certain.

Someone was tailing him, learning not only his habits but perhaps even the core of his cultivation.

He never acted.

The watcher never struck.

It was just a test of patience—one he passed by endurance.

Now, seeing Lilith step onto the snow, Ethan realized the truth in a flash.

She had been his silent judge, the sect’s hidden blade poised to strike if he crossed some invisible line. That drinking in of his every move, the cool regard, the unending patience—it had all been part of her role.

Why, though? Why would one of the strongest protectors of the Azure Origin Dao Sect shadow an exile for ten years without interfering, simply observing, never once intervening?

A knot of questions wound in Ethan’s heart. Was she meant to assure his punishment? Was it to guard against hidden threats to the sect? Or was it possible—no, unthinkable—that his strength, quietly accumulating, had long been seen as a possible turning point for the whole sect’s future?

Lilith met his gaze, stars glimmering in her midnight-blue eyes, her mask making her unreadable.

And Ethan, for the first time in years, silently acknowledged a worthy adversary—one that neither hated nor protected, only observed.

The snow swirled again; power built in the cold air, threat and promise in every heartbeat.

And Ethan could not help but wonder:

Why had she been watching for so long, and what would she do now?