The Cunning Treasure Hunter

An Unexpected Ally

Theron hummed a cheerful tune as he ascended the mountain path to Suncrest.

It had been an exceedingly pleasant afternoon—he'd found not one but two people who piqued his interest. The trip had already proven worth the effort.

When he finally arrived at the grand gates atop Suncrest, he saw two disciples bickering in hushed tones.

"I'm telling you! Just trust in Senior Brother Marcus!"

"Trust him? Our Senior Brother is the type to daydream about flowers whenever Master isn't watching!"

"Ethan. Should I tell Senior Brother what you just said?"

"Wow, so our friendship means this little, huh? I'm deeply disappointed!"

The name Marcus was familiar to Theron.

Smiling brightly, he casually approached the two.

"Hello there!"

"Huh? Who—wait, that insignia on your robes…"

Ethan's eyes went wide, and he instinctively took a step back. His retreat was smooth, his movements honed with precision, betraying his advanced martial prowess.

Noah, recognizing the emblem immediately, clasped his hands in a formal salute.

"Third-Generation Disciple Noah greets the Young Lord of the Akrest Clan."

It wasn't surprising. Earlier, they had seen the Akrest leader crossing through Suncrest to visit the Scarlet Crown Chamber, and the news had set the inner courtyard abuzz. Among the murmurs was a tale that accompanied the commotion: the legend of Theron, a prodigy born with the Heavenly Martial Constitution and acknowledged by the Sword Sovereign himself.

"Oh? You're quick on the uptake," Theron remarked, amused.

"The leader has already entered the Scarlet Crown Chamber," Noah replied.

"Eh, I don't care about my father's business."

"What?" Noah blinked in confusion.

Ignoring him, Theron turned his gaze to Ethan.

"You remind me of myself," he said.

"…What do you mean?" Ethan frowned, though his back was already damp with cold sweat.

He could tell. The boy before him, who looked like a peer, was undoubtedly a formidable opponent.

"I heard there's a Third-Generation Disciple in Suncrest who's nearing the peak of first-class martial arts."

"Ha. That would be me. Why?"

"You haven't broken through the wall yet, have you?"

"…What did you just say?"

If another disciple had made such a remark, Ethan would've smacked them with the hilt of his sword.

But this wasn't a fellow disciple.

And beyond that…

He could feel it. The gap in their abilities was as palpable as the oppressive aura radiating from Theron.

This was what people called pressure—the kind that stemmed from overwhelming skill.

In the martial world, recognizing an opponent's strength was a skill in itself.

Thus, Ethan didn't even dare move his hand toward his weapon.

"So," Theron continued, "I heard you were talking about my friend. What's your relationship with him?"

"…Your friend?" Ethan tilted his head in confusion.

Who in Suncrest could possibly be friends with the Young Lord of the Akrest Clan?

"Your Senior Brother. Marcus, wasn't it?"

"You know Senior Brother?"

"Of course. We became friends while eating dumplings down at the base of the mountain."

Noah and Ethan exchanged bewildered glances.

It was true that Marcus had a friendly, easygoing personality. Though firm and decisive when it mattered, he was generally approachable.

But befriending an outsider over dumplings?

And with Vera nearby, no less?

It didn't add up.

"Senior Brother Marcus? With you?"

"Ethan! He's the Young Lord of the Akrest Clan!"

"Senior Brother Marcus? With you?" Ethan repeated, his tone slightly less disrespectful, though his confusion was no less apparent.

Another syllable of honorifics wouldn't make the situation any less strange.

Of course, Theron didn't mind such trivialities.

Unless his father was around, that is.

"Yes, your Senior Brother. With me."

"…That's odd."

"Pardon my rudeness, but it is rather strange," Noah admitted.

"And why is that?"

Ethan crossed his arms, one foot tapping against the ground as he replied.

"Our Senior Brother doesn't befriend just anyone."

"'Doesn't befriend just anyone'? Isn't a Senior Brother supposed to guide all his juniors?"

"That's true, but that doesn't mean he becomes 'friends' with everyone. And more importantly…"

"And more importantly?"

"…You're not even part of the Suncrest Sect, let alone a junior disciple."

It wasn't entirely wrong.

By convention, the status disparity between a Young Lord of the Akrest Clan and a Third-Generation Disciple of Suncrest made friendship unlikely.

Naturally, the Akrest side held overwhelming social superiority.

"Well, that's true. Anyway…"

"Anyway?"

"Your junior sister is something else."

Both Ethan and Noah tilted their heads in confusion.

But Theron didn't elaborate.

Instead, he patted both of their shoulders as he passed by.

"Tell your Senior Brother I'm really looking forward to the duel."

With that, he walked off toward the inner courtyard.

As the sun dipped low on the horizon, casting an amber glow over Suncrest, Vera and Marcus ascended the mountain trail toward the main gates of the sect.

They had chosen not to use advanced footwork techniques, though they still relied on light inner energy to ease their steps. The steep path, otherwise treacherous, became a refreshing stroll.

That was, of course, until they encountered Ethan and Noah near the summit.

"Senior Brother! Where have you been all day!?"

"The Young Lord of Akrest claims to be your friend… is that true?"

Marcus exhaled a weary sigh, running his hand over his face in exasperation.

He hoped, desperately, that only these two would hear about the matter.

Theron, for all his arrogance, didn't seem like someone who ran his mouth lightly. Surely, he wouldn't stir up trouble... hopefully.

"It's a long story…" Marcus muttered.

"No way, Vera! Did Senior Brother and that guy really…?"

"That guy? Ethan, it's 'Young Lord Akrest' to you!"

"Oh, come on. He's only 'Young Lord' down in Akrest. Up here? Just another outsider."

As the two began bickering again, Vera calmly stepped between them and pushed them apart with minimal effort.

"Nothing happened," she said, her tone even.

"…But he said he was your Senior Brother's friend?"

"All he did was buy us lunch down at the base of the mountain," she clarified.

At that moment, an all-too-familiar voice rang out, making everyone freeze.

"Talking about me, are you?"

It was Theron.

Vera cast a glance at him. His demeanor now was far from the calculated, noble air he had displayed earlier. His smile was carefree, bordering on mischievous.

"Yes, we were," she replied bluntly.

"Oh? So you're the type to badmouth someone behind their back? That's disappointing."

"Don't concern yourself," she shot back.

Her tone was sharper than usual, a formal and cold edge that the others had never heard from her before.

"Looks like I've really rubbed you the wrong way," Theron mused, his grin unwavering.

"Senior Brother, I'll head inside now."

With a respectful bow to Marcus, Vera turned on her heel.

The next moment, Theron moved.

His body blurred as he crossed the courtyard in an instant, his outstretched hand clawing toward her wrist like a predator's talons.

But it was futile.

By the time his hand reached its mark, she was already standing elsewhere, her gaze cool and impassive.

"What are you doing, Young Lord Akrest?"

"What, no warm titles like 'Brother Theron' or anything?" he teased.

"We are not close," she stated flatly.

With that, she turned and walked away, leaving no room for further discussion.

"Is she always like that?" Theron asked the others.

"Only with you," Ethan replied.

"Ethan, mind your manners," Noah admonished.

"Only with you, Young Lord Akrest," Ethan amended sarcastically.

Despite the jab, Theron's smile remained intact.

But the other three noticed it—the way his left hand rested on the hilt of his sword.

At the entrance to the Blooming Peak Pavilion, a man unfamiliar to the sect stood beside the Suncrest Sect Leader, Gideon.

His attire lacked the signature cherry blossom pattern of Suncrest, marking him as an outsider. And yet, there he was, standing casually next to the sect leader.

Vera's footsteps halted. An ominous feeling crept up her spine.

It was already too late to turn back.

"Ah, Vera, come over here," called Gideon with his usual gentle smile.

His tone was kind, even paternal, but Vera knew better. She had heard of this man and his ways from her master.

Still, she concealed her thoughts and approached.

"Greetings, Sect Leader," she said, bowing politely with a clasped fist.

As she drew closer, she kept her gaze respectfully lowered.

"This is the child," Gideon said with a note of pride, gesturing toward her. "One of our Third-Generation Disciples, and already at the peak of her class. Can you believe it?"

"How impressive," remarked the outsider, his sharp gaze raking over her from head to toe.

It was Ebon, the leader of the Akrest Clan.

"Small and delicate," he noted aloud. "At first glance, one might doubt she could even wield a sword."

His eyes glinted as he continued his appraisal.

"Could she be like my son—a prodigy born with the Heavenly Martial Constitution?" he mused to himself.

No, that couldn't be it.

Such a rare gift came with an aura of pure, unshakable strength, and what he sensed from her was something altogether different.

'…There's something chilling here. What exactly is it?'

Unlike Aiden, his perception wasn't sharp enough to discern the truth.

He couldn't tell that the girl before him bore the fateful Celestial Blade Star.

"She's quite like a cherry blossom herself, wouldn't you say?" Gideon remarked.

"Indeed. She lacks nothing compared to my son," Ebon replied, though his tone betrayed the flattery.

Vera glanced at the embroidered crest on his robes—the unmistakable mark of the Akrest Clan.

"This will be an interesting duel, Sect Leader," he said, a thin smile curling his lips.