The Cunning Treasure Hunter

The way she grasped the well's handle was anything but ordinary. It was not the clumsy hold of a child or the untrained grip of a servant girl. No, it was the grip of someone who knew the art of holding a sword—precise, firm, purposeful.

"Interesting," Aiden muttered, his sharp gaze lingering on the young servant girl of the Storm Clan.

Vera, who had only turned fourteen that day, was supposed to be no more than a lowly servant, scrubbing rags and fetching water. And yet, her stance and the way she moved betrayed a familiarity with combat, something out of place for someone of her position. In this era, such anomalies typically had one explanation: she was the bloodline of a fallen martial sect.

"...What is so amusing to you, sir?" Vera asked cautiously, her voice steady but her eyes betraying unease.

"I find joy in the fact that you've piqued my interest," Aiden replied, a faint smirk on his face. Such words, spoken by a man bearing the Cherry Blossom Emblem embroidered on his chest, felt both disarming and alarming.

"I am merely a servant girl of the Storm Clan, sir," she insisted, lowering her gaze.

"That is not what I mean." Aiden crouched down to meet her eyes, studying her closely. Her jet-black hair framed a pale face, but her dark eyes held depths of sorrow and torment far beyond her years. It was the kind of gaze that belonged to someone who had endured immense suffering. The aura she emanated was almost tangible—an emptiness, a void that seemed to devour light.

And there was something else.

Aiden's sharp senses detected it—the faint but unmistakable scent of Cherry Blossom. No matter how much someone tried to mask it with other scents, anyone from the Suncrest Sect would recognize it instantly.

"Were you from a branch of Suncrest Sect?" he asked.

Her shoulders trembled slightly, and instead of answering, she allowed the well's handle to slip from her grasp. The clattering sound echoed briefly before an awkward silence fell between them.

"...Have you come to hold me accountable as well?" she asked finally, her voice laced with quiet resignation.

"Do I look like an enforcer of the Unity to you?" Aiden replied with a dry chuckle.

"In this world, it's rare to find a martial artist who isn't tied to the Unity," Vera said bitterly.

Her words struck a chord. Over fifty years had passed since Theron, the Cerulean Swordmaster, defeated the Fiend Lord and established the Martial Unity. In that time, the Unity's grip on the martial world had grown absolute, silencing dissent and punishing rebellion without mercy. Her father had no doubt been one of the countless victims of this regime.

"You can act like a child, you know," Aiden said, his voice softening.

"I don't understand what you mean, sir."

"Look at me," he urged.

Vera hesitated before lifting her head. Her pale complexion, her trembling frame, the faint shimmer of unshed tears—everything about her seemed fragile. Yet what Aiden saw beneath her surface was something entirely different. Deep within her dark eyes lay a shadow, a buried darkness that whispered of unspoken truths and untapped power.

He recognized it immediately.

"...The Celestial Blade Star," he murmured.

The Celestial Blade Star, one of the 108 malefic stars described in Harmony teachings, heralded rivers of blood wherever its bearers tread. It was a cursed fate, one that promised destruction—but also unparalleled potential.

Aiden's lips curled into a smile. This girl, this servant with nothing to her name, possessed the kind of talent he sought.

"My name is Aiden," he said. "As you can see, I am of the Suncrest Sect."

"...I see," Vera responded, her voice cautious.

"Will you come with me?" he asked, his tone deceptively light.

Vera hesitated. A butterfly could not cross the sea on its own, she thought. But perhaps, if she found a boat…

"Suncrest Sect did not protect us," she said finally.

"I know," Aiden admitted.

"I am the daughter of a family that opposed the Overlord of Unity."

"I know that too."

"Then why would you take me?" she demanded, her voice sharp.

Aiden's expression didn't waver. "Because I see potential in you. That is why."

"...I see. So, we're to have a transactional relationship, then?"

"A transactional relationship?" he repeated, amused.

"In exchange for taking me away from here, I am to fulfill your expectations, am I not?" she asked, her tone cuttingly perceptive.

Aiden chuckled, impressed by her clarity. At just fourteen, she was already this shrewd. "Indeed. You're right."

"...What do you want from me?" she asked, her voice steady despite the storm brewing within her.

Aiden glanced around to ensure no one was listening. Then, with a flick of his sleeve, he created a barrier of inner strength, sealing their conversation from prying ears.

"Don't you want revenge?" he asked bluntly.

Her breath caught, but she didn't answer.

"I am asking if you want to plunge a blade into the Overlord of Unity's throat," he pressed.

Silence enveloped them. Vera closed her eyes, memories flashing through her mind. Her father's beheading. Her mother's despair. Her family's annihilation. She was the last remnant of a once-proud lineage, her father's inner strength sealed within her, her potential hidden beneath the guise of a servant.

Did she want revenge?

Aiden waited patiently, his gaze unwavering. He knew what lay beneath her hesitation. This girl was no ordinary survivor. She was a black dragon, a force of nature capable of changing the world.

Finally, Vera opened her eyes, her dark pupils gleaming with a new resolve.