The Cunning Treasure Hunter

"Are you out of your mind, Senior Brother? No matter how talented she may be!"

The sect leader, Gideon, slammed the table with a loud bang. It wasn't a gesture befitting a conversation with his senior, but Grandmaster Thorne did not reprimand him.

"Did you just say… Celestial Blade Star?"

"She's not a child worth worrying about, Gideon. You know my eye for people."

"Your exceptional eye has always brought turmoil to Suncrest!"

"Look at Aiden and Kael. Did they bring any chaos—"

"At least they weren't marked by the Celestial Blade Star! Even if they carried the blood of hidden remnants of the Demonic Sect, they weren't corrupted by demonic energy!"

Gideon clutched his head in frustration, groaning loudly.

"Her lineage, being the daughter of an executed traitor, is not the issue, Senior Brother. We can spin that however we wish. Say she was accepted because of her talent, in line with Daoist teachings. That's easy!"

"…Then what are you so worried about?"

"I'm worried about teaching the sword to someone marked by the Celestial Blade Star!"

It was a valid concern.

The sect leader's point was irrefutable.

Why else would such an individual be called the Celestial Blade Star?

Such a being was destined to bring bloodshed and upheaval to the martial world.

"So, are you suggesting we shatter her core and cast her out?"

"Don't make it sound like a joke, Senior Brother. I'm seriously considering it."

"Celestial Blade Star…"

Grandmaster Thorne took a sip of the tea before him and glanced at his junior, who was still wringing his hands in frustration.

"Why not see her for yourself?"

"See her? You mean this child marked by the Celestial Blade Star?"

"Yes. It would be better for you to judge her with your own eyes."

"And if I decide her core must be destroyed?"

Setting his teacup down, Grandmaster Thorne smiled faintly.

"She's my great-grand-disciple."

"Ha… Do you truly have to go this far, Senior Brother?"

"I heard something about her that makes this worthwhile."

"And what is that?"

Vera had expected to be disliked.

She realized it the moment she stepped into her assigned room.

Unlike the shared quarters where ten disciples lived together, her room was a private one.

'…It's too spacious.'

It was comfortable, of course, but the isolation was undeniable.

She hadn't expected to be the only female third-generation disciple among the Mount Suncrest Sect's 120 students.

Sighing, she began unpacking her belongings.

She shoved her clothes into the wardrobe and hung her sword on the wall.

On the desk lay another sword and a pristine white training robe.

"If they were going to give me a sword, why did Master buy one for me as well?"

The sword was a Cherry Blossom Training Sword, designed for third-generation disciples who hadn't fully grown yet. It was a short sword meant for training but still a proper blade.

Drawing the sword, Vera gave it a few test swings. It wasn't bad—not exceptional, but functional.

Her master's gift, however, was flawless. Its balance, weight, and craftsmanship were unmatched.

She gently set the Cherry Blossom Sword back on the table.

Some of the other disciples wielded personal longswords, supported by their wealthy families.

Aiden had ensured she wouldn't be underestimated. He had anticipated the jealousy and scorn she might face and equipped her to withstand it.

"…He didn't have to go so far," she murmured.

Changing into the robe adorned with Cherry blossoms, she sat cross-legged in the middle of the room and began her meditation.

As she closed her eyes, the true energy buried deep within her core began to stir.

It was a legacy left by her father.

'…Still, I can only move a tiny fraction of it.'

The energy of the Eternal Blossom Sutra was unique.

It resembled death itself but wasn't demonic.

It represented the natural cycle of life and death, of blooming and wilting.

"—Haa."

As she drew the Eternal Blossom Energy from her core, a cold breeze swept through the room, carrying a chilling aura reminiscent of the underworld.

Beneath her, black cherry blossoms bloomed on the floor.

With each breath, external energy was drawn into her, circulating through her meridians.

As the energy coursed through her, impurities dissolved, purified by the profound energy of the Eternal Blossom Energy.

Peering inward, she observed her inner space.

A vast, dark expanse.

The floor mirrored water, its depths unfathomable.

Crouched within was a figure—a beast with golden eyes, a snowy mane, and pitch-black scales.

It was the Black dragon.

The dragon, guardian of the afterlife, governed death itself.

A predator of the undying, it was the essence and manifestation of the Eternal Blossom Sutra.

When she extended her hand, it growled, as if warning her not to touch.

Yet it never harmed her.

It seemed as lonely as she was.

Whenever she meditated, she sat before the creature, meeting its gaze.

If she touched it, her hand would brush against rough scales and a bristly mane. Beneath the surface, she sensed a deep, unyielding stillness.

"…Please, don't hurt me."

Its boundless, immeasurable aura often frightened her.

So, she always spoke to it, uncertain if it understood.

"I was in pain when I coughed up blood last time, you know."

At her words, the Black dragon opened its eyes, rising to its full, imposing height.

Towering over her, it nudged her gently with its snout, as if apologizing.

As it recognized her as its master's bloodline, a flicker of regret seemed to pass through its gaze.

Moments later, the stagnant energy in her core surged like a breaking dam.

Even as it relented, the Black dragon continued to tease her, seeking her attention.

It didn't want to be left alone.

Once, it had dwelled within her father's core.