CHAPTER 27: CHAPTER 27

"Is there really anything so special about me...?" Ethan wondered, his confusion deepening as he watched the retreat of Lilith and the others. It must be said

Secretly observing someone for ten years—especially without ever being noticed by regular cultivators—required a level of discipline and tenacity bordering on obsession.

With a lesser soul, Lilith’s surveillance would have gone unnoticed forever. But Ethan was far from ordinary.

In truth, Lilith’s silent watch had been one of his greatest, most persistent burdens.

Even after all these years, the memory of her constant gaze made him cautious in his training, vigilant in every step, as if some sharp sword was always hanging above him.

Only during rare moments when he was certain she’d left or couldn’t sense her presence did he truly relax body and mind. Yet that vigilance was also a whetstone, keeping Ethan sharp, always mindful of his surroundings.

Lilith had turned to face him now, eyes gleaming from above her mask, the cold breeze ruffling the ends of her short golden hair.

"You’re Ethan, right?" she asked.

Ethan almost wanted to laugh. Pretending not to know me after tracking every breath I’ve taken for a decade? The Black Oath’s third commander, living in the shadows like a patient spider, and here she was feigning unfamiliarity.

If it were anybody else in his position, he mused, Lilith might have succeeded—her skill as a stalker was, after all, legendary among the Empress’s closest retainers.

But Ethan’s five senses, sharpened by ten years of cultivation and ten times as much paranoia, could pierce through the thinnest veil. His perception, aided by both system and scriptural disciplines, reached out in all directions. Every movement in a hundred-meter radius, every breath of wind, every subtle vibration in snow or stone, was a language to him.

"Yes, I am Ethan," he said, his tone respectful but cautious.

"May I ask who senior is?"

Lilith’s eyes glittered with satisfaction that he acknowledged her station.

"You have stayed at Serene Mirror Lake for so long—I’m not surprised you might not know me. I am Lilith, third commander of the Black Oath."

Ethan bowed formally, his hands together in a classic salute.

"Disciple Ethan greets Commander Lilith."

In a world where strength and reputation could change a person’s fate in a blink, humility and caution were virtues. Bending when needed meant surviving long enough to stretch and become something greater.

Lilith nodded, acknowledging his respect, and turned to Seraphina, her forever-poised posture just the right balance of authority and subservience.

"Your Highness, the Empress summons you. The sect hall requires your presence immediately."

Seraphina’s eyes flickered between Ethan and Lilith, irritation clear.

"Aunt Lilith, I haven’t—resolved things with him yet..."

"Leave it to me," Lilith replied, cutting elegantly between Seraphina’s pride and Ethan’s defiance.

Seraphina hesitated only an instant.

It was obvious—if not for the sect master’s strict order, she would never have bothered with this trip. The years away at training had only deepened her sense of distance toward Ethan.

Why does Master care so much about this man anyway? she wondered. Serene Mirror Lake should be Ethan’s prison until he rotted in snow.

She exhaled softly, half with frustration, half with resignation. Sparing Ethan a final cold glance, she turned and walked away, feet silent in the drifting snow.

Kain trailed after, his jaw clenched, eyes burning with all the grudges of their old rivalry—humiliation that could not be repaid today.

Ethan caught Kain’s glare and responded with a lazy, almost dismissive smile. For a moment, it was as if the years peeled away, and the weight of old victories and losses balanced once again between them.

Kain was smart enough to recognize the futility of starting a fight now, with Seraphina and the Black Oath present. But the flames in his eyes promised this was not the end. In this sect, every exile eventually became an enemy reborn.

Once the pair had vanished, Lilith stepped closer, her icy calm never wavering.

"I’ve heard you spent these ten years at Serene Mirror Lake cultivating in silence. Yet now you have a chance to leave early. Why not take it?"

Ethan suppressed a snort. Who told her that? Still, he kept his answer unruffled,

"It’s less an opportunity, more a humiliation. What happened back then was a misunderstanding. I was young, foolish, ignorant of even the difference between men and women, much less capable of such a scandal."

Lilith didn’t flinch.

"I’m only the Empress’s eyes. I have no say on the past. But I’ll say this—your talent is rare. When you return to the inner sect, any peak would welcome you as a prized disciple. Even if you only become an inner disciple, it’s better than rotting your days away fishing here."

Ethan shook his head, lips curling in dry amusement.

"I won’t be leaving Serene Mirror Lake anytime soon."

There was a comedy here, almost tragic in its simplicity.

What I have built—my strength, my peace, my existence—has come from casting my net in these waters. Why run to the sect that cast me away, just as I begin to truly become myself?

Lilith, unaccustomed to being rebuffed, finally broke her stoic mask with a look that mingled caution and exasperation. For all her years of discipline, nothing in her training had prepared her for this kind of stubbornness.

"You can do what you wish," she said, turning away.

Her words were clipped, and even her footsteps seemed hurried as she left, though Ethan could sense she remained vigilant, watching with that same measured patience from before.

"Commander Lilith, walk safely," Ethan called after her, his tone playful, almost teasing. Lilith’s pace quickened.

There was something about Ethan that threw her off, a quality even the Empress’s most loyal enforcer found unsettling.

He turned, closing his door at last. But as the latch met the jamb, his senses prickled anew—movement, faint, just beyond the garden wall. He narrowed his eyes, stretched his perception, and scanned the snow-dusted bushes to the east of the hut.

A shadow flitted, pausing for barely an instant before melting back into the cold.

Leaving already? Ethan mused, hand at his chin. A little early for another spy.

What’s going on? Why is everyone suddenly so interested in me?

He drew the bolt. Paranoia settled heavy on his shoulders.

"It seems the world is growing restless," he muttered.

"There’s been too much instability lately. I need to strengthen the defenses around my hut."

Through the system and years of luck, Ethan had netted enough spiritual formations to smother any common intruder.

He’d layered the hut with nine distinct protective arrays—circles within circles, talismans sunk deep beneath the threshold, wards for every trick he’d learned or invented. After today, it seemed even nine layers might not be enough.

He would set to work immediately, weaving security tighter, harder, until not even the Empress herself could spy unbidden.

Outside, the snow drifted high, covering old tracks and secrets.