Ethan narrowed his eyes slightly, a sharp, analytical glint flashing in his gaze. "And is the Soaring Dragon Kingdom truly content with that arrangement? Are they completely fine with a sect harboring their highest-tier talents just to avoid military service?"

"I don’t know the deep politics of it," Mary answered honestly, shaking her head. "But throughout my entire life, even when my father and my grandfather were still alive, they always said the exact same thing: the Soaring Dragon Kingdom would never dare to forcefully push their boundaries into this territory. They said the supreme leader of the Heavenly Sword Pavilion is an absolute monster—a legendary powerhouse that the royal family cannot afford to play games with."

"Impressive," Ethan murmured, his voice laced with genuine fascination as he looked at her. "It’s quite remarkable how much you know about the inner workings of the major sects and kingdoms, Sister Mary. Most common hunters in frontier towns barely know the name of their local governor."

Mary’s eyes suddenly dimmed, a wave of bittersweet nostalgia washing over her mature face as she looked down at the dirt path. "That is... because my late husband was actually an outer disciple of the Heavenly Sword Pavilion. He taught me everything I know about the world outside these mountains. But unfortunately... he passed away a very long time ago."

Ethan stopped walking for a fraction of a second, his expression softening into a polite, apologetic look. "I am deeply sorry for your loss, Sister Mary. I didn’t mean to bring up a painful memory."

"Oh, please don’t apologize, Ethan! There is absolutely no harm done," Mary said quickly, waving her hands with a warm, incredibly grateful smile. "If anything, I am the one who owes you a lifetime of gratitude. Seeing the way you handled my son Roy this morning... you have no idea what that meant to me. You didn’t just teach him a few moves; you completely returned the love of the sword back to his heart."

Ethan raised an eyebrow. "The love of the sword?"

"Yes," Mary sighed softly, her voice filled with deep emotion. "Before you arrived, Roy stubbornly insisted on training exclusively with a spear. He did it out of sheer hatred, spite, and deep-seated resentment. In his young mind, he believed that his father had died precisely because of the sword—because of his absolute devotion to the sect’s path. Roy hated the weapon with a passion and swore he would never touch it. But yesterday, after watching your peerless skill and receiving your strict guidance, you completely shattered that heavy psychological wall. You made him respect the blade again. For that alone, I can never thank you enough."

Ethan looked at her earnest, emotional expression, a small, subtle smile playing on his lips. "He has a good foundation, Sister Mary. He just needed to realize that a weapon is neither good nor evil—it is merely the hands wielding it that define its purpose."

"No matter what you say, Ethan, I can never truly repay you for what you’ve done," Mary spoke, her voice cracking as she suddenly came to a halt. Tears began to stream down her flushed cheeks, pooling in her eyes before spilling over. She bent her waist, sinking into a deep, trembling bow. "Because of you... because of these fangs... my children and I can finally survive. We aren’t condemned to a living death anymore."

Ethan stopped, his brow furrowing slightly. Those words didn’t sound like standard, everyday gratitude. They carried a dark, suffocating weight that felt entirely unnatural for a simple hunting trip.

"Sister Mary, please stand up," Ethan said, his voice dropping into a calm, gentle cadence as he stepped closer. "Those words sound far too heavy. Is there something going on behind the scenes that I can help you with?"

Mary wiped her eyes with a trembling hand, her grief temporarily flaring into bitter, raw anger. "It’s those damned, merciless loan sharks... they do nothing but squeeze the absolute life out of the poor until there’s nothing left but bone. A few months ago, my youngest daughter fell gravely ill with a deep chest fever. We had completely run out of coin, and the local apothecary wouldn’t even look at her without payment upfront. Out of absolute desperation, I had to borrow from them. But their compound interest... it’s a trap designed to bury you."

Ethan tilted his head, his analytical mind tracking the details. "How much did you originally borrow, and how much do they claim you owe them now?"

"I borrowed a single medium-grade Spirit Stone," Mary whispered, her voice shaking with shame and horror. "But because I couldn’t make the initial weekly payments on time... the debt grew and multiplied. Now, they demand exactly one hundred medium stones."

"One hundred?!" Ethan barked, a rare flash of genuine irritation cutting through his smooth demeanor. "What kind of absolute garbage is that? How is that even remotely possible for a single stone’s debt?"

"They calculate the penalties by the day," Mary cried. "They came to my home just three days ago to pressure me. They gave me a final ultimatum... they said if the full debt isn’t settled by the end of the week, they will drag my son Roy away to the labor mines as a slave, and they will throw my daughter and me into the lowest tier of the local pleasure brothels to work off the remainder. I was entirely hopeless, Ethan. But now... with this massive pile of regular fangs and the Troop Leader’s tokens, we can easily clear a thousand medium stones at the Pavilion exchange hall! I can pay them off completely!"

Overwhelmed by the sheer, sudden realization that her family’s nightmare was over, Mary’s knees buckled. She began to sink directly toward the muddy ground, intending to kneel and prostrate herself at his feet. "Thank you... thank you, my benefactor..."

"No, Sister Mary! Don’t do that!" Ethan reacted instantly. He caught her by her forearms, his massive strength completely halting her descent before her knees could touch the dirt. He pulled her flush against his chest, wrapping his arms around her to pull her upright. "Please, don’t say things like that, and absolutely do not kneel to me. I cannot and will not receive a reverence from you."

Mary struggled slightly against his iron grip, looking up at him through a veil of tears, her face flush with emotion. "Please, let me kneel, Ethan! It is the absolute least I can do for the man who saved my children from slavery and ruin! Let me honor my benefactor!"

Ethan held her incredibly firm, his hands gripping her soft shoulders to keep her locked in place. He forced his facial muscles to shift, his amethyst eyes widening with a sudden, perfectly timed look of intense embarrassment. A subtle, artificial warmth rushed to his cheeks, forming a soft, boyish blush that looked flawless to the naked eye.

"Please, just... don’t do it, Sister," Ethan stammered slightly, his voice dropping into a flustered, insecure pitch, executing a performance truly worthy of an Oscar.

Mary blinked, her frantic emotions temporarily stumbling over his sudden change in demeanor. "Why? Why can you not accept it?"

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

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 ??