The Cunning Treasure Hunter

The Peak Assembly progressed without incident.

Jace and Dylan climbed the ranks with unstoppable momentum.

Likewise, Marcus and Vera faced no significant challenges.

At this rate, the final match would pit the two disciples of the Main Sect's Lineage against the two disciples of the Thorne Lineage—a configuration everyone found thrilling.

Somewhere atop a distant mountain, even Elder Thorne must be watching this unfold. It was simply too entertaining to miss.

However, for Sect Leader Gideon, it was far from enjoyable.

"...That damned senior brother," he muttered under his breath.

For sixty years, he had lived under the shadow of Thorne, always one step behind.

"...Are we prepared?"

His low voice simmered with tension, audible only to Magnus, who stood nearby.

The Cherry Blossom Swordmaster Magnus approached and answered with calm assurance.

"Do not worry."

"Yes... They performed the Bone-Cleansing Rituals again this dawn, didn't they?"

"Indeed. Thanks to that, their ability to gather and settle their inner strength is seamless."

"I saw it myself."

Yet, despite his words, unease lingered in Gideon's clenched fists.

Would that be enough?

The Bone-Cleansing Rituals did not grant enlightenment. It merely prepared the body to store greater amounts of inner strength. While it was an advantage most could only dream of, it was still limited.

He had seen something—something far beyond ordinary comprehension.

"She bloomed Cherry blossoms with the First Form of the Elegant cherry Sword."

"I saw it too," Magnus confirmed.

"And those black Cherry blossoms... I have never seen anything like them."

Cherry blossoms so dark they appeared black.

The pride of Suncrest had always been its red Cherry blossoms. Even Aiden, revered as the White Cherry Blossom Scholar, could not truly produce pure white blossoms.

Yet here was a young disciple summoning black Cherry blossoms—an anomaly beyond understanding.

"I cannot believe such a thing exists..."

"Investigate," ordered Gideon.

The Elegant cherry Sword was still the Elegant cherry Sword, but that girl had only been in Suncrest for a month. She had already mastered the Peak Stage before joining, meaning she had cultivated a different energy method before arriving.

Something other than the Clear Mind Technique.

"It must be a different inner energy method," Magnus agreed.

"Would it even matter if we found out?"

"It does matter."

For reasons he couldn't yet comprehend, those black Cherry blossoms had overwhelmingly suppressed Kyun's Elegant cherry Sword.

Some might claim it was simply a disparity in cultivation levels.

But as someone who had reached the Flower Realm, Gideon could see it.

It wasn't just a gap in power or skill.

Those black Cherry blossoms held a fundamental superiority over the techniques of Suncrest.

He didn't know how or why, but it was undeniable.

"...As you command," said Magnus, bowing deeply.

Yet, unlike before, Gideon did not smile with satisfaction. He bit his lip nervously, a gesture uncharacteristic of a sect leader.

* * *

The sun had set.

The Peak Assembly never continued after dark.

The representatives from the Trading Guild retreated to their quarters, leaving the Blooming Peak Pavilion eerily quiet.

Vera leaned against the window, gazing at the full moon hanging in the cloudless sky above the empty sparring grounds.

The pale light of the moon illuminated everything below, casting a serene glow.

Then, two figures appeared on the sparring grounds.

It was Jace and Dylan.

Their swords were drawn, pointed at each other, suggesting a practice match.

Resting her chin on her hand, Vera watched quietly.

Observing an opponent's techniques could be valuable, even if she herself didn't need the information. It would surely benefit Marcus.

However...

She suddenly sensed something unusual.

"Killing intent?"

The faint sting on her skin was unmistakable.

The presence of such palpable killing intent meant it was uncontrolled—or perhaps intentionally unrestrained.

Frowning, Vera narrowed her eyes.

At that moment, Dylan lunged at Jace.

It wasn't the Elegant cherry Sword, nor was it the Cherry Blossom Sword of Nine Heavens.

It was a wild, reckless swing—nothing like the refined techniques of Suncrest.

Jace blocked it with ease, but Dylan didn't stop.

The strikes grew stronger, wilder, and more erratic.

It seemed like he was shouting something, but the words were indiscernible.

The killing intent only intensified, becoming almost suffocating.

Realizing it could no longer be ignored, Vera leapt from the windowsill.

Her small, slender frame landed silently on the dirt below.

In the Blooming Peak Pavilion, sparring matches were meant to be friendly.

Such unrestrained killing intent was strictly forbidden.

If someone got hurt...

'Senior Brother Marcus will get scolded,' she thought.

She didn't want that to happen.

Calmly, she roused the Black dragon sleeping within her core.

A surge of overwhelming inner strength flowed through her delicate frame, radiating an undeniable presence.

"...You've been watching, haven't you?"

Dylan turned to face her, his expression unreadable.

Jace did the same.

Composing herself, Vera clasped her hands in a respectful gesture.

"Greetings, Senior Brother and Senior Sister."

"That's not the point. You've been watching, haven't you?"

"Yes, I have," she replied calmly.

"Hah. Did you hear that, Jace? She admits it outright."

As Dylan sneered, Vera tilted her head slightly, narrowing her eyes in quiet defiance.

"You were in the center of the sparring grounds."

"So?"

"Does anyone spy on someone standing openly in the center of the sparring grounds?"

Dylan clamped her mouth shut, unable to find a retort.

Instead, Jace stepped forward.

"Your words make sense. But, Junior Sister, do you really have a reason to interfere in our matters?"

"I do," Vera replied, lowering her gaze gracefully.

Her tone, however, was firm.

"Because you were releasing killing intent in the middle of the Blooming Peak Pavilion's Sparring Grounds."

"Killing intent…"

Jace glanced at Dylan, whose eyes burned with uncontained fury.

"What's the reason for your anger, Senior Sister Dylan?" Vera asked.

"Well, it's because you were spying—"

"I meant the reason for the killing intent."

Again, Dylan had no response.

Neither did Jace.

"You don't need to concern yourself with this," Jace finally said. "I'll take care of Dylan."

"...No. I want to speak," Dylan interjected.

"Dylan," Jace warned.

"I'm not saying everything. I just want to ask her something."

Their conversation made little sense to Vera, who tilted her head in mild confusion.

"What is it you wish to ask?"

"You."

"...Yes, Senior Sister."

"If you were offered immense power in exchange for enduring excruciating pain every day, would you take it?"

A brief silence fell between them.

After a moment of thought, Vera spoke.

"How much power, and how much pain?"

"Pain as if your bones were being torn from your flesh. In return, you'd gain the strength to defeat anything."

"Anything…"

She pondered those words.

Anything.

The promise of such power was undeniably tempting.

The strength to exact revenge immediately.

The strength to seize whatever she desired.

The strength to avenge her parents' unjust deaths.

The strength to break free from the tangled web of her wretched fate.

"...Would I become stronger than the Lord of the Martial Unity?"

"What?"

Dylan's eyes widened in shock.

The Lord of the Martial Unity—she must have meant Zephyrion, the Sword Sovereign, laeder of the Akrest Clan and master of the Imperial Sword Formation.

The man who had severed the head of the Heavenly Demon himself.

"That's too much greed, don't you think? I wasn't talking about anything on that scale. Have some sense of proportion."

"Ah…"

A flicker of disappointment crossed Vera's face.

Though Dylan didn't notice, Jace did—and it sent a chill down his spine.

'...Is that really her goal?'

The Lord of the Martial Unity, the Sword Sovereign Zephyrion.

He wasn't a goal.

He was a legend, a figure beyond reach.

Leader of the forces that stopped the Demonic Cult's Uprising fifty years ago, and the unrivaled master of the martial world.

Rumors even claimed he had ascended to the Heavenly Realm, a stage beyond human comprehension.

That was the Sword Sovereign.

"Then I'm not interested," Vera said flatly.

"...Hah."

"Does that answer your question?"

Dylan let out a hollow laugh.

If it wasn't power to rival the Lord of the Martial Unity, then it held no meaning for Vera.

Ironically, that response was equally meaningless to Dylan, whose own goal wasn't some distant, unattainable ambition.

In truth, Vera had given no real answer to her question.

Could enduring the pain of the Bone-Cleansing Rituals and the talent it granted ever truly be worth it?

Dylan turned her gaze to Jace, glaring sharply.

Their disagreement over this very question was the reason for their conflict.

"Dylan, let's go back," Jace said firmly.

"No, Senior Brother. Do you really want to go back?"

"What choice do we have?"

"...We could renounce everything. Abandon it all."

Hearing this, Vera raised an eyebrow.

Renouncing Suncrest?

Contemplating a way to leave the sect?

"Silence, Dylan. Watch your words."

"What's there to watch? This cursed Peak Assembly—I never wanted to be a martial artist in the first place—"

Before she could finish, Jace clamped a hand over her mouth.

She struggled, but it was futile.

Not only was Jace a full level higher than her, but once someone allowed an opening in martial arts, regaining the upper hand was nearly impossible.

"Mmff! Mmmfff!"

"Vera, have a good night. Forget everything."

Blinking, Vera nodded as Jace dragged Dylan into the shadows.