The Cunning Treasure Hunter

Everstone Clan, Young Master's Office.

Galen bit the tip of his fingernail nervously. Anxiety washed over him like a tidal wave.

"…You're telling me my brother's warrior is dead? And it was Julian?"

This was bound to be misunderstood.

Even before this incident, fierce debates about the future direction of the clan had been ongoing.

Martial arts versus calculation.

The Everstone Clan was renowned for its mastery of calculation techniques but often looked down upon for its lack of martial prowess.

In a world like this, where martial strength defined worth, should they adapt to the times? Or should they cling to their unique identity?

The waves of the Eternal Flow River might push away the old currents, but the teachings of The Guiding Philosophers shone timelessly.

No one could definitively claim which path was the right one.

Just then, someone knocked on the door handle.

Knock, knock, knock.

"Young Master, it's Clara."

"…Enter."

Clara.

If the First Young Master had Julian, the Second Young Master had Clara.

At twenty-six years old, she had studied calculation alongside Galen since childhood, much like how Julian and the First Young Master, Crescent, trained in swordsmanship together.

"…Young Master, are you alright?"

"I am not."

The Second Young Master lacked talent in swordsmanship.

Even at the age of thirty, he had not yet reached the threshold of transcendence.

He was merely a first-rate martial artist.

In contrast, his brother, the First Young Master, was different. Though he lacked skill in calculation, his swordsmanship was exceptional. By thirty-two, he had already stepped into the early stages of peak mastery.

For most, reaching such a level would only mean catching up to the elite disciples of the Nine Great Sects, but for the Everstone Clan, where martial prowess had traditionally been even weaker, Crescent was a beacon of talent.

And their father, once hailed as the greatest martial genius of the Everstone Clan, had passed down his bloodline to his elder son.

"I am afraid I might lose you."

"You shouldn't fear losing someone like me, Young Master. A true man wouldn't worry about such things."

"Even if I become a 'great man' without you, it would be an empty achievement."

"…I will never become engaged to you, Young Master."

Her reason was simple. It was the same reason Clara covered the left side of her face and her left eye with her hair.

Underneath was a terrible burn scar that marred half her face and left her blind in one eye.

"I…am not suitable for you, Young Master."

In the Great Hall of the Everstone Clan, a critical decision had been reached.

Vera, Aiden, Aria, and Edwin had all come to the same conclusion:

The succession battle for the young clan leader must be halted immediately.

Both the First and Second Young Masters were rational and prioritized the clan's interests. However, the death of someone's closest and dearest friend had changed everything.

"…I don't know how to break the news to Brother Crescent."

"Aria, if you try to explain, it will only seem like a younger sister lecturing her elder brother."

"Then what should I do…?"

"I will go."

Edwin stood up from his seat. Aiden nodded.

"Father, I'll go see Brother Galen."

"Take these two with you," Edwin instructed, pointing to Vera and Aiden.

"Why them?" Aria asked, tilting her head.

"Galen is sharp but fragile. He will likely seek external validation for his next move."

"…That makes sense."

Unlike Crescent, who inherited his father's fiery martial spirit, Galen had a gentler disposition.

"And also, visit your mother. She must be worried."

"I will, Father."

With that, Edwin left for the First Young Master's office. Only Vera, Aiden, and Aria remained.

"So, where should we go first?"

"To Mother. Brother Galen may be fragile, but he's rational. He won't act recklessly."

"Very well."

Aiden stood slowly, but Aria stopped him with a sharp question.

"Didn't you say you didn't want to see me, Aiden?"

Aiden turned to face her, smiling as if amused by the situation.

"You already know the answer, don't you, Aria?"

"…Indeed."

It wasn't because he wanted to see her. It was because he needed to.

Personal emotions were unnecessary for a grand ambition like overturning fate. All emotions had been left behind, at the grave of the one most precious to him, on the day she died.

Aria stood as well, her gaze briefly falling on Vera, the silent girl who always followed Aiden.

She didn't know what had happened between them, but the weight of their shared history was clear.

Even Vera had her own mysterious past.

"I have just one question for you, Aiden."

"Ask away."

"Not to you, but to your disciple."

Vera raised her gaze to meet Aria.

Their eyes locked, a silent clash of emotions.

What Aria felt was no different from what others had sensed.

Those eyes were a vast, dark abyss—like the starless void between constellations in the night sky.

Cold. Empty.

"Your name is Vera, isn't it?"

"…Yes."

"Do you wield your sword by your own will?"

Vera's eyes narrowed. She lowered her gaze momentarily before turning away from Aria. It was an unmistakable sign of displeasure.

"Head of Internal Affairs, may I speak?"

"…Go ahead."

"I saw my parents burn to death before my very eyes."

Vera placed her delicate left hand on the hilt of her sword, her gaze returning to Aria.

Her once empty eyes were now filled with a cold, searing resolve.

A burning desire for vengeance.

And the determination to unleash carnage with the blood of her enemies.

"I will bathe them in a bloodstorm with their own blood. Without fail."

Aria swallowed hard, a dry lump forming in her throat.

The dissonance.

The image of this small, young girl clashed violently with the chilling words she spoke.

It sent an unexplainable tension coursing through her.

"…Very well. With such resolve, you have my approval."

"You've made up your mind, Leader?"

"Yes. Reverse Heaven Unity will accept this child as one of our own."

"So be it."

Vera stood alongside Aiden and Aria, ready to move. But at that moment—

The door to the leader's office slammed open.

A figure entered, clad in pristine white robes with blue cuffs embroidered with a Taiji motif.

It was a member of the Strategist Division.

"Head of Internal Affairs, I found you!"

"…What is it now?"

"It's urgent!"

"Then get to the point—what's so urgent?"

"The sword of Julian—it's missing. But now we've found it…"

The elderly strategist gasped for air, his breath labored from his frantic search.

Aria handed him a glass of water. He gulped it down, his breathing finally stabilizing enough to continue.

"It was discovered…on Celestial Sword Sect!"

"Celestial Sword Sect?"

Aria's brows furrowed deeply.

How could the sword have ended up there?

"Not just that… It was lodged in the throat of a young martial artist from Celestial Sword Sect!"

The fight between the sandpiper and the clam.

The bird bites down on the clam's flesh, and the clam clamps down on the bird's beak.

In the end, it's the fisherman who profits.

"It seems we've been underestimated."

"Indeed. It appears that way to me as well."

Two men stood beneath a towering tree.

Their attire was unmistakably that of Celestial Sword Sect disciples—martial robes of pure black and white, with a hair ribbon embroidered with the Taiji symbol.

Before them hung the lifeless body of a martial artist, impaled against the tree by a blade driven through his neck.

The sword was unmistakable.

Its hilt bore the emblem of Everstone.

Surrounding the two men were other martial artists from Celestial Sword Sect, forming a tense perimeter.

This was because one of the two men was none other than Clear Peace Elder, a senior figure of Celestial Sword Sect.

The other was his disciple, Dominic, a renowned expert in the mid-stage of peak mastery, known throughout the martial world as the Celestial Sword Sect Fist Disciple.

Dominic utilized the refined footwork of Flowing Cloud Steps, one of Celestial Sword Sect's supreme techniques, to approach the body impaled on the tree. He gently removed the sword from his young disciple's neck and held it up.

"This killing intent…doesn't belong to Everstone."

With the fallen disciple in his arms, Dominic gracefully descended from the tree and handed the blade to Clear Peace Elder.

The elder brushed his hand along the blade's edge, his expression grave.

"Thick. Cold. This killing intent… It's from the Bloodshadow Pavilion."

At the mention of the Bloodshadow Pavilion, tension rippled through the gathered disciples of Celestial Sword Sect.

Their bodies stiffened in unison.

"It's not just any ordinary assassin's handiwork," the elder continued.

"Then…?"

Clear Peace Elder turned his gaze toward the blood-soaked tree, examining the clean, precise slash that left no marks on the grain.

"We must head to Everstone Clan immediately."

"But didn't you just say this wasn't their doing?"

"Someone is trying to pit us against Everstone."

A sly smile crept across Clear Peace Elder's face.