The Cunning Treasure Hunter

Vera asked no further questions. The answer Aiden had given her was enough—just as he hadn't asked more of her.

"...A clear reason, indeed," she said, her tone flat.

"That's one way to put it," Aiden replied with a slight shrug, spreading his hand lightly to withdraw the barrier of energy he had placed. The ambient sounds of the surroundings returned, filling the room once more.

"So... what do you plan to do now, my lord?" Vera asked.

"Hm, I suppose the first thing would be to have you pack your belongings."

"I only have one belonging."

"Then fetch it."

Without another word, Vera turned and left the room. As she walked past the wash area, the other maidservants cast curious glances her way, whispering about why she was removing her makeup so early. Vera didn't bother to answer. Her focus was elsewhere.

She entered the small, shared room where she slept. The older maids inside glanced at her questioningly, but Vera ignored them as well. Her attention was fixed solely on what lay beneath her bedding: a single, carefully wrapped object.

It was the Falling Blossom Sword—her father's relic and the sacred artifact of the Bloomspire Sect.

The time had come for her to abandon her life as a maid. No more scrubbing floors or fetching water. From this moment on, she would live as a martial artist, even if it meant stepping into a world where death by the blade was as common as the setting sun.

She grasped the sword, her fingers pressing firmly against the thick cloth wrapping it. The hard texture of the scabbard was unmistakable. Vera straightened her back and stepped out of the room, carrying the sword with quiet determination.

In the corridor, her path was blocked by none other than Darius Storm, the head of the Storm Clan.

"You've barely worked two hours today. What are you doing here? And why have you washed off your makeup? Where's your hair ornament?" Darius demanded, his eyes narrowing.

"...Ah," Vera murmured, her response devoid of emotion.

Without answering further, she began to unwrap the cloth around the sword. A long, slender blade, nearly as tall as she was, gleamed faintly even within its scabbard. The Falling Blossom Sword, infamous as the blade that could not be drawn, stood revealed.

"A sword? Where did you get that?" Darius asked, his tone laced with suspicion.

"I've had it all along," Vera replied calmly.

"Bring it here!" Darius ordered, his eyes glinting with greed.

The Storm Clan was a minor family in Ravenhold, with only shallow roots in martial arts. It was clear that Darius lacked the expertise to recognize the sword's true nature. He likely judged its worth based solely on its ornate design: the glossy black scabbard, silver carvings shaped like slender branches, and the ancient aura it exuded.

"This sword belongs to me," Vera said firmly.

"And you belong to this household!" Darius snapped.

"As of today, I'm leaving."

Darius's face twisted into an ugly grimace. "What? Do you have any idea how much it has cost to feed and shelter you all these years?"

"I ate so little I didn't grow an inch in four years. I slept so little I spent more time holding rags than resting. Just how much do you think that cost?" Vera replied coldly.

"Silence!" Darius barked.

"You're louder than I am, my lord," she retorted, clutching the sword tightly against her chest.

Her defiant posture only stoked Darius's fury. He stepped forward, his imposing frame casting a shadow over Vera.

"If you lay a hand on this sword, I will take your wrist in return," Vera warned.

"What did you say? What did you just say to me?" Darius growled, his voice rising.

"I said that if you touch my father's relic, I will sever your wrist."

For a brief moment, Darius faltered. He recalled something unsettling about the girl before him. Her eyes—black, empty, and filled with an unidentifiable depth—had always unnerved him. There was something about her that was both unsettling and captivating.

"Do you have any idea how much I've invested in you?" he hissed.

"I don't."

Grinding his teeth, Darius grabbed a nearby mop handle and pointed it at her threateningly. "If you know what's good for you, you'll stay here quietly!"

"No. I will leave," Vera said, her voice resolute.

As the tension reached its peak, the sound of a sliding door broke the silence. Aiden stepped into the corridor, his presence immediately commanding attention.

"What's going on here? It's very noisy," Aiden said casually.

"A-ah, my apologies. It's nothing for a distinguished disciple of Suncrest Sect to concern himself with. This maid is simply being disobedient…" Darius stammered, his tone faltering.

"If it's about her, I intend to take her with me," Aiden said, his words calm yet decisive.

"What?" Darius's eyes widened in shock.

Aiden smirked and untied the white poplar insignia of Suncrest Sect from his waist. With a casual toss, he handed it to Vera.

"Look here. I am a disciple of Suncrest Sect, am I not?" Aiden said, his tone playful yet firm.

"Wh-what sort of nonsense is this…" Darius mumbled, his voice trailing off.

The reputation of Suncrest Sect, the sect of Eternal Blossoms, was unshakable, even in a world dominated by the Overlord of Unity. A minor family like the Storm Clan could not afford to defy its authority.

"I am thirty years old. Well past the age to play the fool. Do you know what that means?" Aiden asked.

"...No?" Darius replied hesitantly.

"It means I am free to choose my own disciples. This girl is now my disciple. I will take her to the main sect."

For a moment, Darius hesitated. Then, calculating his losses, he made a decision. "Then, will the Harmony master compensate me for her value?"

"Her value?" Aiden asked.

"Her body price, of course," Darius clarified, crossing his arms.

Aiden tilted his head, pulled two taels of silver from his sleeve, and tossed them at Darius. "Will this suffice?"

Darius scoffed and returned the silver. "Ha. Harmony master, with all due respect… let me ask you this."

"What is it?" Aiden asked, his expression neutral.

"Do you know what she will be like at nineteen?"

"How would I know?" Aiden replied.

"If I were to gift her to a powerful figure, I could reap enormous benefits. My eye for such things is rarely wrong. And now, you ask me to simply hand her over?"

Aiden glanced at Vera. He couldn't argue—predicting what she would become in five years wasn't difficult.