The Cunning Treasure Hunter

Marcus glanced to his left.

Ethan was sound asleep, completely oblivious to the chaos that had unfolded earlier. Even if someone carried him away, he likely wouldn't notice.

"Did I... perhaps cause any trouble for you, Senior Brother?" asked Vera, her voice hesitant.

"No, I just noticed you were struggling and decided to keep watch," replied Marcus calmly.

Only then did Vera let out a sigh of relief. Marcus silently observed her. She wasn't a bad child. He had never seen her display cruelty or malice.

And yet, the words she had muttered in her nightmare were horrifying.

'Something must have happened,' he thought.

Without another word, Marcus stood, donned his outer robe, and stepped outside the tent.

"It's cold out here. Make sure to dress warmly before coming out," he called back.

"Yes, Senior Brother..." Vera responded softly.

The outer robes they wore had been provided by Aiden. They were lightweight, durable, water-resistant, warm, and well-ventilated—clearly expensive garments.

Vera quickly wrapped herself in her robe and followed him. She was aware that she murmured in her sleep, especially when plagued by nightmares.

She remembered the first time it happened, during her journey to Suncrest Sect with Aiden, who had since become her master. Even he had overheard her back then.

'How much did I say?'

The uncertainty made her uneasy. She had no way of knowing how much Marcus had heard or what he might have pieced together. Though he wasn't someone she doubted, the fear still lingered.

With a heavy sigh, she stepped outside the tent.

Marcus was gazing up at the moon—a full, resplendent moon that illuminated the dark night.

Not far away, Valen had chopped down a massive log and was using it as a makeshift bed. He had also gathered branches into a pile and started a fire, creating a rather practical campsite.

'Fresh wood doesn't burn easily. Was he able to light it because he's a master of the Blazing Dragon Sword Technique?'

Marcus glanced at the fire briefly before turning his attention back to Vera.

She seemed better than before, but her usual calm and composed demeanor was still absent. Her reddened eyes and trembling shoulders betrayed her inner turmoil.

"Come sit here," he said, patting the stump left by the log Valen had chopped down.

The wide surface was large enough for two people.

Vera nodded and sat beside him without hesitation.

"Are you alright?" he asked gently.

"...It's just a nightmare," she replied, her voice quivering slightly.

Marcus didn't believe her.

No, this wasn't the reaction to an ordinary nightmare.

This was a grudge—a deep-seated, bone-chilling hatred born of a desire for vengeance.

'What kind of child did Master bring to us...?'

Despite his doubts, he knew one thing: Vera's nature wasn't inherently evil. Even in the short time they'd spent together, she had proven herself to be mature beyond her years.

An old soul in a young body. A junior sister who had endured more hardship than anyone her age should.

And yet, the words she had muttered in her sleep were chilling.

"To burn them alive, just like they did... What kind of vengeance is this... Could it be?"

She had mentioned her parents—her father and mother.

Was this about avenging them?

To burn someone alive in the same manner? Could it really be...?

"Would you tell me about that nightmare?" Marcus asked carefully.

"...Senior Brother," she murmured.

"If it's too difficult, or if you don't trust me yet, you don't have to say anything. There's likely nothing I can do to help anyway."

Vera lowered her head, silent.

He was right.

What could he possibly do to help?

Burn Valen alive to exact her revenge?

Join her in a final battle against Zephyrion Akrest, the Sword Sovereign of the Martial Unity, who was responsible for this cruel world?

All of that was far in the future—goals for a time when she was much stronger.

And to be brutally honest...

Though Marcus was a trustworthy senior brother now, who could say if he would stand by her side in the future?

More than that, she couldn't even bring herself to speak of it.

To utter those words aloud would be to relive that moment, to hear the horrors of the past replayed in her own voice.

Even recounting the story to herself was unbearable.

The nightmares that haunted her every night were already too much. To consciously revisit those memories while awake would only invite Inner Demons.

Even now, Vera avoided looking at Valen, fearing that her hand might unconsciously reach for her sword's hilt.

"It's not that I don't trust you, Senior Brother..." she said finally.

"...I see."

"It's just... it's too painful to put into words..." her voice trailed off.

Marcus didn't press further.

He had never seen her look this fragile before.

"I'm sorry. Was I being too harsh?" he asked.

"No, it's not that..." she said, shaking her head softly.

Black hair swayed in three flowing layers.

"When the time comes."

"...It hasn't come yet?"

"Yes. Someday, when my sorrow dulls a little more, I will tell you."

All sorrows can only be spoken of after they've faded with time. For now, Vera was too young to let go of the resentment and grief from that time.

Marcus nodded silently. He realized he might have pushed too hard.

"Very well. I will wait as long as you need."

"...Thank you."

There was no need to pry into everything. He was her senior brother, not her interrogator. A protector's duty was simply to protect. Anything more would only make her uncomfortable.

"Well then, let's talk about something else," he said with a faint smile as he untied the bundle at his waist.

"This is said to be the treasured artifact of the Eastern Mountain Fiery Blade clan's leader. Would you like to see it?"

"...Would that be alright?"

"Master didn't forbid us from looking at it."

That was true. If this were such a secretive item that even looking at it was taboo, their master wouldn't have wrapped it in a simple cloth and handed it to him.

Without hesitation, Marcus loosened the knot of the bundle.

What emerged was a spearhead.

But it wasn't an ordinary spearhead.

Attached to the side was a crescent-shaped blade, commonly referred to as a Moon Blade. A weapon like this was called a Spear.

The famous weapon wielded by the legendary general Sky Tyrant in the historical novel Romance of the Three Kingdoms was also a Spear, known as the Heaven-Splitting Spear, featuring dual crescent blades. This one was of the same lineage of weapons.

"...Demon-Cleaving Spear."

Vera read the characters engraved on the part where the shaft would connect.

A Spear designed to shatter and destroy Demonic energy—its name was etched in gold, untouched by time.

Extending a small hand, Vera gently ran her fingers along the blade.

How long had this weapon been stored away?

Despite its age, it showed no rust, and its edge remained sharp. The cool sensation against her fingertips proved its integrity.

"What do you think, Vera?"

"It's a masterpiece. Truly worthy of being a clan's sacred artifact."

How many masters of the Fiery Blade clan Spear Techniques must have wielded this Spear?

Passed down through generations, its blade carried the same principles and energy as its wielders.

Over time, such weapons began to develop faint traces of ability.

A weapon that started as a simple, finely crafted tool could, after generations of use, become optimized for the martial arts of the family it belonged to, requiring less internal energy to produce greater effects.

When this phenomenon occurred with a single user, it was called a Beloved Weapon.

But when it happened over multiple generations, the accumulated abilities grew stronger and more distinct.

Such a weapon, enriched by history and layered with power, became known as a Sacred Artifact of the family or sect.

The Demon-Cleaving Spear was no exception.

One only needed to touch it to understand—it was a weapon crafted exclusively for the Fiery Blade clan Spear Techniques.

Much like the Falling Blossom Sword was meant solely for the successors of Soul Harmony Realm Arts.

Silently, Vera drew her own sword and held it under the moonlight.

It, too, carried something etched into it. She could feel it clearly.
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But what ability lay within it?

That was a mystery.

A sword with the ability to recognize its master, one that could not be drawn by anyone other than the successor of the Soul Harmony Realm Arts—such abilities were real.

But it was odd.

For a weapon to have restrictions that severe, it would need to be far more dangerous, perhaps even a cursed or living demon sword.

"It's said to be a kind of heirloom," Marcus commented.

"Yes, Senior Brother. It's an inherited item."

"It's a fine sword. Even if it's a bit narrow and long."

"That's true," she replied simply.

That was how it might seem to Marcus, but Vera saw it differently.

She had mastered the Cherry Blossom Descent Manual.

The art required freedom and fluidity, like petals drifting on the wind. A narrow blade made it easier to adjust one's grip.

The technique also demanded poignancy, like the sorrow of a falling Cherry blossom. A longer blade made it easier to evoke such imagery.

But she didn't bother explaining or correcting him.

The Cherry Blossom Descent Manual wasn't ready to be shown to the world yet.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a sudden sensation.

A strong, approaching presence.

There was no attempt to conceal their inner energy—it was raw and intense.

"...Senior Brother."

"I feel it too."

Marcus quickly wrapped the Demon-Cleaving Spear back in its cloth and secured it to his waist.

Nearby, Valen had already leaped to his feet, drawing his blade.

Even Ethan, who had been sound asleep, rolled out of the tent and grabbed his sword.

The moment a shadow emerged from the bushes, Vera's Falling Blossom Sword struck faster than anyone else.

But before it could land, Valen roared.

"STOP!!!"