The Cunning Treasure Hunter

Time flowed quickly.

The Peak Assembly was only a day away.

For nearly a month, Vera had experienced firsthand the meaning behind Noah's words. Marcus, their eldest brother, was indeed a romanticist.

"The cherry blossoms are particularly beautiful today," said Marcus, gazing at the petals drifting on the wind.

"Pardon?"

"Come, sit here for a while. Let's spend the morning watching the flowers."

Was it because of her, or was he always like this?

Their master, Aiden, was rarely at his secluded hut. Most days, he was absent, leaving Marcus to replace training with lazing about.

"Senior brother, is this really acceptable?" asked Ethan, frowning.

"Ethan, what is it that our swords are meant to depict?"

"...cherry blossoms."

"And how can we hope to depict them properly if we don't observe them carefully?"

"You sound just like Master, senior brother."

Beside them, Noah chuckled. Marcus took it as a compliment.

"I've been trying hard to follow Master's example, after all."

"But how can you improve if you spend all your time like this?"

Despite Ethan's grumbling, Marcus only smiled.

"Wouldn't today's indulgence make tomorrow better?"

"But Noah and I aren't participating in the Peak Assembly, senior brother."

"And yet, Vera and I are," Marcus replied, turning to look at Vera.

She was seated quietly as instructed, her gaze fixed on the falling cherry blossoms. With her legs neatly folded beneath her, she cradled her sword in her arms.

A cherry tree's branches, when broken, revealed sharp ends like a concealed blade. Vera's posture mirrored this—the epitome of stillness and readiness.

"She is a cherry blossom," Marcus thought. Not just when she held her sword, but in every aspect of her life. She embodied the flower, its elegance and resolve.

"To achieve the unity of sword and self… the hallmark of a master," he mused.

Among the disciples of the Mount Suncrest Sect, Vera alone had reached such heights. Her presence exuded a striking duality—sharp like a blade, yet perfumed with the deep, bittersweet fragrance of cherry blossoms.

"Senior brother Marcus, why are you looking at me like that?"

Her soft, delicate voice pulled him from his thoughts. He smiled warmly.

"I was just wondering when I might become like you."

The candid admission startled Noah and Ethan. He was the eldest of the three great disciples, yet he openly acknowledged that his skill fell short of the youngest, Vera.

"...You will surpass me," she said with conviction.

Marcus blinked. Her tone carried certainty, as though she had glimpsed the future.

"Senior brother, you will not only reach where I stand but climb to heights far beyond," she continued, her dark eyes steady.

It wasn't flattery. Her gaze felt like it pierced through his past, observed his present, and glimpsed his future.

"...Thank you."

"Senior brother, you will undoubtedly become someone far greater than I could ever be."

A gentle smile curved her lips. Marcus couldn't help but laugh, reaching out to pat her small head. As his hand brushed her hair, a cherry blossom fell into her lap.

"Well, if I don't surpass you, I won't be much of a senior brother, will I?"

"...That's true," she replied softly.

Vera remembered that morning vividly.

Before the sun rose, they had dueled. Though he envied her and struggled against his inadequacies, he had embraced her talent and supported her.

He was more than a swordsman; he was a guide, teaching her the essence of principle and discipline.

"Alright, let's stretch a bit," said Marcus, standing.

"A sparring session?" Ethan asked, quickly rising to his feet and rolling his shoulders.

"Yes. Care to join me?"

"Anytime, senior brother," Ethan replied eagerly.

He was known as the Mount Suncrest Sect's Prodigy, second only to Vera. Despite knowing he would lose, he faced Marcus willingly, just as he had with Vera.

For Marcus, losing in training wasn't shameful—it was a step toward growth. He had learned to overcome despair and turn it into strength.

"Vera," said Marcus.

"Yes, senior brother?"

"Observe our sparring carefully. Point out anything I can improve."

"Understood," she replied.

As the eldest disciple responsible for training and leading the others, Marcus continued to seek guidance from Vera, recognizing her insight.

From the beginning until now, his humility had honed his swordsmanship to new heights

A month was not enough.

No amount of training in such a short span could break through the walls one had never touched before. However, it was enough time to hone existing skills and sharpen one's judgment.

Even if, by some miracle, Marcus managed to defeat all his opponents and reach the finals…

His eyes shifted briefly to Vera.

One of the two finalists would undoubtedly be Vera. There was no one who could defeat the small girl.

The idea of Marcus defeating her was beyond even the realm of miracles. It was a foregone conclusion that the Jade Elixir would be hers.

Even if Jace and Dylan had mastered the Nine-Cherry Blossom Sword within the month, it wouldn't change the outcome.

"...The Nine-Cherry Blossom Sword," he muttered.

Hearing the words, Ethan, who was preparing his stance with his sword, tilted his head in confusion.

"Why bring up the Nine-Cherry Blossom Sword all of a sudden?"

"Jace and Dylan must have spent the past month learning it."

"You told us not to worry about it, senior brother," said Noah, shrugging.

"Even so, it worries me."

"What's there to worry about? Vera will handle herself just fine," Noah replied nonchalantly.

"It's not Vera I'm worried about," Marcus said, his voice laced with a tinge of unease.

Both Noah and Ethan turned to him, realizing the implication. Marcus, as the eldest, would naturally take the other spot in the Peak Assembly alongside Vera.

"...You're worried about yourself?" Ethan asked, his eyes widening in surprise.

With a faint chuckle, Marcus nodded.

"Vera could easily defeat Jace and Dylan, even if they've learned the Nine-Cherry Blossom Sword. But me…?"

Did he have the depth of understanding in the Elegant cherry Sword to stand against it? Could he, who had only followed the forms, truly shatter a technique hailed as the pinnacle of the Mount Suncrest Sect?

He wasn't sure.

He looked down at the sword in his hands.

There was an old saying: one should not wield a blade forged without the sweat and fire of dedication. Had his efforts been enough to earn the blade he now held?

A soft voice broke his thoughts.

"Senior brother, you won't lose," said Vera, standing behind him.

"Even if they've learned the Nine-Cherry Blossom Sword?"

"Yes," she replied without hesitation.

Turning to face her, Marcus saw her standing amid the drifting cherry blossoms, her calm gaze fixed on him.

In her eyes, he saw the will and determination that burned within him.

Forced desperation collapses before an immovable mountain, but not Marcus. Despite countless defeats at her hands, he had risen each time, embraced his limits, and sought guidance—even from someone far younger and smaller than himself.

His resolve was not born of external pressures but of a personal desire to attain something greater.

"An imitation of a true technique will never defeat you, senior brother," Vera said confidently.

"...Do you truly believe that?"

"I do."

Marcus paused, then asked the question that lingered in his mind.

"Have you seen the Nine-Cherry Blossom Sword before?"

"I have," she answered.

"Have you learned it?"

"...I have."

The Nine-Cherry Blossom Sword was a closely guarded secret of the Mount Suncrest Sect, forbidden from being taught to its subsidiary branches. Yet Vera's father, the Black Cherry Swordmaster, had been a man of relentless determination.

He had observed countless matches, imprinted the forms in his mind, and eventually pieced them together. While it lacked the full incantations of the original, the forms were complete.

"...I won't ask how you learned it. I imagine even our master knows by now," said Marcus.

"I merely learned the forms. It's an imitation, nothing more."

But Vera had inherited something far older and more profound—techniques rooted in the Cherry Blossom Falling Technique, an art surpassing even the Nine-Cherry Blossom Sword.

Unlike her father, who had devised clever methods to learn the incomplete sword forms, Vera had mastered them entirely. She knew with certainty that no mere imitation, no matter how refined, could overcome Marcus's unwavering resolve.

"A dance without spirit and intention holds no meaning. Martial arts are no different," she said softly.

"...I see," Marcus murmured.

He turned away from her and toward Ethan, who had just finished stretching.

With a soft rasp, his blade slid free from its sheath.

"Let's meet in the finals, Vera."