The Cunning Treasure Hunter

To be honest, it wasn't a compliment. It was a sigh, laced with bitterness and self-deprecation.

It had been about two hours since Aiden began teaching Vera the Silent Cherry Steps. Watching her quickly grasp the fundamentals and execute them with a near-flawless precision was both impressive and disheartening.

'It took me at least two months to reach that level,' Aiden thought with a grimace.

Great Master Thorne had once told him he lacked talent, yet Aiden knew he wasn't entirely devoid of potential. If that were the case, he wouldn't have been accepted as a disciple in the first place. During his time as a Post-Peak Disciple, he had hunted down numerous demonic cultists and never fallen behind his peers. While not exceptional, he had always been competent.

But the difference between his aptitude and Vera's was vast. As her teacher, he should have felt pride in her achievements. Instead, he felt a twinge of futility, a shadow of doubt cast over his own abilities as a martial artist.

'At this level… her talent might actually become a problem.'

Still, Aiden possessed his own unique gift: an unparalleled ability to analyze and teach martial arts. Known throughout Suncrest Sect for this skill, he had even been entrusted with teaching Lucian Crest, the sect's brightest prodigy. His discerning eye for talent was no coincidence.

Vera, however, was beyond anything he had encountered before. Her talent exceeded the realm of genius, bordering on monstrous. She wasn't just a prodigy of Suncrest Sect—she was destined to shake the entire Central Plains.

And humans, by nature, feared monsters.

"How long will it take us to reach Suncrest, my lord?" Vera asked, catching up to him and matching his pace effortlessly.

"At this speed… at least seven days," Aiden replied.

"That's quite far."

"The Central Plains is vast."

"…Is that so," she murmured, her gaze thoughtful.

The Central Plains was indeed vast. To Vera, those words carried more than their literal meaning. Somewhere out there, she thought, might lie a place where she truly belonged.

After four years of suffering, she had finally found a teacher willing to take her in.

"Indeed, the Central Plains is vast," she echoed softly.

"Well… in a short while, we'll reach a small village. We'll stay there for the night."

"Understood, my lord."

As he had predicted, a flicker of light appeared in the distance. The sun was setting behind the mountains, and darkness was creeping across the landscape.

"There it is," Aiden said, pointing ahead.

However, as they drew closer, it became clear that the "light" was not the welcoming glow of lanterns. It was fire.

A village engulfed in flames.

Screams and cries echoed from every direction. For a moment, Vera froze, her face turning pale at the horrifying sight. But Aiden didn't hesitate.

"Focus!" he barked.

"Y-yes…!" Vera stammered, snapping out of her daze.

"Do you have energy left?" Aiden asked.

Vera nodded silently.

Aiden pointed to a mountain ridge behind the village. "Go and survey the surroundings from there."

"And you, my lord…?" Vera asked, her voice trembling.

"I'll save whoever I can," he replied.

Though she didn't fully understand his plan, Vera nodded and leapt toward the small hill overlooking the village. It wasn't particularly high, but it provided a clear view of the area.

The flames illuminated the night, casting a hellish glow over the landscape. And then she saw them.

Figures watching from a distance.

Their uniforms were unmistakable.

"…Ah." Her breath hitched as memories of terror surged to the forefront of her mind.

She would never forget those uniforms.

The ones worn by the men who had beheaded her father.

They belonged to the Heavenly Unity Corps, a militant force under the direct command of the Martial Unity. Known for their ruthless enforcement of the Unity's rule, they operated under the slogan, "Unite the world under one roof."

Their presence here could mean only one thing: the village had been condemned for treason.

Helping the villagers would brand her a traitor as well.

Vera's face turned deathly pale.

"This is worse than I thought," Aiden muttered as he surveyed the chaos.

Unless one specialized in ice-based techniques, there was little anyone could do to suppress flames of this magnitude. For now, he drenched himself with water from the village well before diving into the burning buildings.

How much time had passed? He didn't know. The screams from the burning homes had finally ceased. Though his clothes were blackened with soot, Aiden had managed to rescue many lives.

"What happened here?" he demanded of the village elder, a trembling old man with a scorched beard.

The elder shivered, his lips trembling. "W-we were… we were supposed to die…"

"What do you mean by that?" Aiden pressed.

"My… my son joined the Heaven-Reversing Society…"

The Heaven-Reversing Society. An underground organization dedicated to overthrowing the Martial Unity and assassinating its leader.

Aiden's eyes sharpened. "The Heaven-Reversing Society?"

"Y-you're not going to kill us too, are you?" the elder stammered.

"…No. But you must pretend you never saw me," Aiden said grimly.

Unfortunately, things were never that simple.

"Well, well. I have no intention of pretending I didn't see you," came a voice from behind him.

Aiden's frown deepened. He recognized that voice instantly.

"Long time no see, Aiden."

A tall, slender-eyed man stepped forward. Though he was taller than Aiden remembered, there was no mistaking his identity.

Darian Flamestrike.

The son of Valen Flamestrike, a prominent figure in the Fiery Blade Sect. He wore the uniform of the Heavenly Unity Corps, likely acting on orders from someone higher up.

"So you're here to execute them for treason," Aiden said coldly.

"It's good that you understand. Now, step aside unless you wish to join them," Darian replied.

It was a cruel twist of fate. Though a father's sins did not extend to his son, Aiden could not suppress his hatred for the man before him—the son of the man who had killed his lover.

"You're twenty-three this year, aren't you?" Aiden asked.

"Yes, I am."

"Five years have passed since that incident… and you're still part of the Thirteenth Division, I see."

"My father is the division commander, after all," Darian replied smugly.

Aiden bit his lip. At thirty, he had reached the entry point of the Transcendent Realm. He had nearly mastered the Nine Thousand Cherry Blossom Sword, a hallmark of Suncrest Sect's swordsmanship. All of it was for revenge.

Yet here he stood, unable to act.

Darian Flamestrike was no novice. His skills were at the Peak Stage. Defeating him without using Suncrest Sect techniques would be impossible. But using those techniques would leave evidence—evidence that could bring Valen Flamestrike and the Fiery Blade Sect to accuse Suncrest Sect of treason.

'Not yet…' Aiden thought. He needed to reach the Flowering Realm. And he needed to train Vera to surpass even that.

At that moment, someone landed softly beside him.

It was Vera, her Silent Cherry Steps executed flawlessly.