The atmosphere in the grand hall shifted from debate to a heavy, binding finality. One by one, the titans of the council nodded.

"The decision is made," Prince Charles declared, his voice resonating like a funeral bell. "But understand this, Ethan Blake: officially, you do not exist to the Soaring Dragon Kingdom. If your cover is blown, we will deny you. If you are captured, we will not rescue you. If you are executed by the Pavilion for espionage, we will be the first to spit on your memory. In the eyes of the world, the Kingdom does not interfere in the internal affairs of independent sects. You are on your own."

Isabella stepped toward him, her golden eyes narrowing. "I do not tolerate failure, Ethan. If you betray us, or if you simply prove to be incompetent, I will personally hunt you down. Do not make me regret saving you from those hooks."

The Fourth Prince leaned back, tapping his chin. "We cannot send him directly to the main sect headquarters. That would reek of a plant. He should be sent from one of the surrounding border villages as a 'wandering talent' looking for a future."

Isabella nodded. "True. Ethan, listen well: The Heavenly Sword Pavilion is structured like a pyramid. They have hundreds of branch sects and secondary sites across the provinces. These branches only house Outer Disciples. Once a disciple proves their worth and reaches the Internal rank, they are promoted to the Main Peak. That is your first objective: get to the Main Peak."

She paused, her expression turning deadly serious. "Your second objective is the eradication of the Crimson Sect's influence in that region. We will give you a window of one hundred years to complete this mission. Your final judgment will be based on your results at the end of that century. If you somehow manage to destroy the Crimson Sect entirely... I will personally petition my father, the King, to grant you any reward you desire. Anything."

Ethan stood frozen, his mind reeling. One hundred years?

"Holy shit, Crul," Ethan thought, a cold sweat breaking out. "A hundred years? I'm not even twenty-five yet! By then I'll be a fossil!"

[Master, you are failing to grasp your current biological status,] Crul's voice echoed with a hint of digital dry wit. [Now that you have reached the Spiritual Core Realm, your metabolic decay has slowed significantly. Your estimated lifespan is now approximately 10,000 years. In the higher realms, a century is considered a short-term assignment. They are not asking you to waste your life; they are testing your patience and your ability to endure. To them, 100 years is nothing.]

Ethan took a deep breath, the realization of his immortality finally sinking in. He looked Isabella directly in the eyes. "I will not disappoint you, Princess."

Isabella blinked, momentarily taken aback. She had expected him to waver, to beg for a shorter term, or to show even a flicker of fear. She had been trying to crush his spirit with the weight of time, but he had simply absorbed the blow.

"Well..." she cleared her throat, her voice losing a bit of its edge. "If it takes you a little longer than that, don't worry too much. Just get results."

The Admiral spoke up then, his voice gravelly. "The recruitment starts in one month. You need to head to the Azure Mist Province immediately. We have a network of spies embedded in that region—merchants, informers, and low-level scouts. I am granting you temporary field authority over them. You'll need eyes and ears if you're going to survive the Sword Pavilion."

The Council members murmured in surprise. Giving a newcomer authority over established intelligence assets was a move of unprecedented trust—and an immense burden.

Ethan felt the weight of the Kingdom's expectations settling on his shoulders. He was being sent into a nest of vipers with a license to kill and a network of shadows at his command.

"I'll be ready".

The heavy doors of the War Council chamber groaned open, and the suffocating pressure of the twelve thrones finally began to lift. Isabella gestured for Ethan to follow. "Come. You have a month to prepare, and you're not going into that nest of sword-obsessed fanatics with just your 'tool' and a tattered uniform."

As they crossed the threshold into the grand hallway, a massive presence loomed. Prince Charles, the First Prince, stood leaning against a dragon-engraved pillar, his arms crossed over his golden plate armor. He ignored his sister and looked directly at Ethan.

"Malphas told me what happened on the Invictus," Charles said, his voice deep and resonant. "The way you held your ground even with your soul being shredded... it's rare. If the Princess's missions ever become too tedious, or if you find yourself needing a 'patron' with deeper pockets, you are always welcome in my court."

Isabella's eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. She stepped between Ethan and her brother. "Still trying to poach my men, Charles? Don't you have enough golden puppets to play with?"

Charles let out a soft, elegant chuckle. "I'm not poaching, sister. I'm simply offering the boy an alternative. Someone with his... appetite... might find your service a bit restrictive eventually."

"He's fine where he is," Isabella snapped, though her hand gripped Ethan's arm a little tighter than necessary.

As they walked further, several Captains of the naval divisions stopped to offer a nod of respect. These were men who lived by the blade; Ethan's ruthless performance in the courtyard had earned him a seat at their table, even if it was at the very edge.

"Don't die in the first week, kid," one scarred Captain grunted as he passed. "The Pavilion's disciples are arrogant, but their sword-intent is the real deal. Don't let them catch you blinking."

"If you find any good Crimson Sect heads, bring them back," another added with a grim smirk. "The bounty on their elders is enough to buy a small mansion."

The higher-tier powerhouses—the Admirals and the Great Generals—didn't bother with pleasantries. They walked past Ethan like he was a gust of wind; to them, he was still a germ, a gamble that had yet to pay off. They didn't need to speak to him. If he survived the century, they would acknowledge him. If he died, he wasn't worth the breath.

"My brothers are already circling you like sharks," Isabella whispered as they reached the private transit area. "Charles wants your resilience, the Second wants to study your Void power, and the Fourth... well, the Fourth just wants to see if you'll cause a scandal in the Pavilion. Don't trust any of them. They don't see a person when they look at you, Ethan. They see a weapon."

Ethan glanced back at the retreating figures of the royal family. "They aren't the only ones" he thought.

"Let's go," Isabella said, her tone softening slightly. "I have a selection of low-tier techniques and some starting equipment for you. You need to look like a wandering cultivator, but I won't have you looking like a beggar."

-------------------

From this moment forward, to avoid confusion regarding cultivation ranks, I will include this footer with the current established levels.

Note: These are only the ranks mentioned so far to avoid spoilers.

Body Refinement Realm

Skin Refinement / Bone Refinement / Organ Refinement

Spiritual Gathering Realm

Spiritual Perception / Spiritual Mist / Spiritual Condensation

Spiritual Core Realm

Core Solidification / Core Awakening / Spiritual Collapse (Half-step Spiritual Core)

Spiritual Soul Realm

Spiritual Soul Awakening / Soul Nourishing / Soul-Core Fusion

Golden Core Realm

Prime Fusion / Core Perfection / Core Destruction

Spiritual Sea Realm

Stage 1 ?? / Stage 2 ?? / Stage 3 ??

Dao Manifestation Realm

Stage 1 ?? / Stage 2 ?? / Stage 3 ??

Spiritual Transcendence

Stage 1 ?? / Stage 2 ?? / Stage 3 ??