Rhys spent the entire night sitting cross-legged on the wooden floor of his stable, studying the functioning of the Crown of Force.

He poured his focus into understanding its exact logic, attempting to calculate the specific lifespan costs required for manifesting different thoughts into reality.

Through hours of silent experimentation and testing, he realized that the spell classified every single human thought into six distinct tiers based on their complexity and how much they disrupted the natural laws of the world.

The six categories were Simple Commands, Directed Commands, Certain Commands, Uncertain Commands, Absolute Commands, and finally, Absolute Authority Commands.

Simple Commands included thoughts that did not actually need any lifespan or mana to manifest.

These were basic kinetic actions that worked within the normal rules of physics, such as pushing a wooden door open, lifting a small object from the ground, or stopping a simple movement.

For example, picking up a small pebble from the straw required absolutely no lifespan. The Crown of Force allowed Rhys to move small items or open latches without physically touching them, and the spell considered these actions so minor that it charged him nothing.

Directed Commands were the next step up.

These were thoughts that carried a specific restriction or target, such as blocking an incoming stone thrown by a rival, pushing a specific person backward, or creating a shield around the body.

Because there was a targeted restriction to the action, lifespan was required.

The cost depended heavily on the target.

If Rhys used a Directed Command against an ordinary civilian, the cost was barely a single day of lifespan.

But if he tried to use it to restrict a powerful mage who possessed their own active mana core, the cost would instantly scale up to match the target’s strength.

Certain Commands covered thoughts that described an event that was already highly likely to happen with just a slight nudge.

For instance, if a carriage wheel was old, cracked, and ready to snap, a Certain Command would simply force that inevitable breakage to happen right now.

Because the object was already on the verge of that state, the universe did not resist the thought very much, making the lifespan cost not that high.

Uncertain Commands were significantly more expensive because they forced a completely unexpected change upon reality.

Trying to instantly shatter a brand-new, reinforced stone wall that had no structural flaws was an Uncertain Command.

The spell had to actively generate a massive amount of artificial physical force to break something that was completely stable, resulting in a much heavier drain on his reservoir.

Absolute Commands went even deeper, allowing the caster to temporarily ignore specific physics, like making an object completely weightless or freezing a spell in mid-air.

Finally, Absolute Authority Commands were the highest tier, capable of changing the fundamental biological or magical properties of an object entirely.

His previous thought of turning his ordinary horse into a mythical unicorn fell directly under this absolute tier, which was why the spell had demanded almost fifty million years of his life.

Also, thoughts were never locked into fixed categories.

They adapted based entirely on the target. Pushing a person into the ground might just be a simple command when used against an old person at death’s door.

But that same action would become a Directed command against an ordinary peasant, and it would turn into a Certain command if the target was standing on the edge of a cliff or was a mage in the middle of a chaotic fight.

And so on.

"The conditions to learn the spell didn’t sound that difficult," Rhys muttered in a low voice. "So everyone else failed because they couldn’t get the spell to accept them..."

The next morning, Rhys arrived at his usual insect cleaner job at the Outer courtyard’s cultivation greenhouses.

The long rows of exotic, costly plants were humming with the quiet buzzing of millions of tiny, transparent crop pests.

Normally, Rhys would deploy his hidden hummingbirds to slowly drain them over hours, but today he decided to test the practical application of the Crown of Force.

He looked at the swarms of insects crawling over the leaves, closed his eyes, and activated the glowing psychic crown above his head.

He had to phrase his thought very carefully to avoid bankrupting his reservoir. If he thought, ’All the insects here die suddenly,’ it would fall under an Uncertain Command, forcing an unnatural mass death that would cost a massive amount of years.

Instead, Rhys focused his mind on a specific condition. ’All the insects here died in exhaustion.’

A cold chime echoed in his head.

"Thought detected. Condition: Death by physical exhaustion. The insects possess an existing biological limit for energy expenditure. Accelerating their natural physical movement toward this limit falls under a Certain Command. Calculating lifespan required to manifest this certainty across the greenhouse sector."

"Calculated lifespan: Equivalent to a high-tier Grand Mage spell. Deducting life force."

[System Notice: 145,00,00 Days of Lifespan deducted.]

Rhys felt a sudden ripple of force expand from his body, and for two whole minutes, he watched with his mouth agape as the entire greenhouse descended into utter madness.

Every single insect on the plants suddenly became violently agitated. Driven by the absolute authority of the thought, the tiny creatures began moving at an unnatural speed.

They did not stop to rest, their wings blurring as they rapidly performed their natural work without a single second of pause.

Unfortunately for Rhys, an insect’s natural work in a greenhouse meant biting into the stems and stealing the concentrated essence from the plants.

"Fuck," Rhys cursed inwardly, his eyes widening in pure horror.

Because the spell forced the bugs to work themselves to death at ten times their normal speed, they ended up causing more physical damage to the rare crops in two minutes than they usually did in an entire month.

Rhys watched helplessly as the vibrant green leaves began to wither and turn yellow under the frantic onslaught.

To make matters worse, he quickly realized another terrifying drawback of the Crown of Force.

Unlike other standard spells, this legendary spell could not be recalled or canceled once the thought was actively processing.

The universe had already accepted his thought and was forcing reality to play out. He could only stand there in silent panic, watching the high-quality, costly plants show clear signs of severe structural damage.

Finally, the two minutes passed.

In a single instant, the frantic buzzing stopped completely.

Millions of tiny insects dropped from the ruined leaves simultaneously, falling to the dirt like a thick blanket of black dust, completely dead from absolute cardiovascular failure.

The system notifications began to flood his vision in a massive, silver cascade.

[You have cleared a massive insect infestation. Extracting Lifespan.]

[Total Lifespan extracted: 12,410,000 Days.]

Converting the massive harvest into his standard format, Rhys realized he had just gained roughly thirty-four thousand years of pure lifespan in the span of a single breath.

But as Rhys looked away from the dead bugs and stared at the drooping, heavily damaged cultivation plants around him, the immense joy of his massive profit instantly vanished.

How could he explain this to Old Chen?

"What the fuck should I do now?" he gasped aloud, rubbing his temples as a cold sweat broke out across his neck.

[Well, you can use the spell again, no?]