The Cunning Treasure Hunter

Clack, clack, clack.

A small carriage approached the foothills of Mount Suncrest.

Unlike the grand, imposing carriages of the Akrest Clan, this one was modest.

Its white, serene color and soft curves gave it a simple yet elegant charm.

Its small size added a quiet dignity to its design.

"We're almost there, young miss," came a voice from the front.

"I told you not to call me 'young miss,' Caleb."

"Haha, I've been calling you that since you were six and I was thirty. Old habits die hard."

"…And what does that have to do with anything?"

From beyond the thin birch blinds, a cheerful yet refined voice responded.

Even when pouting, her noble demeanor was unmistakable.

"Still, it's fortunate we didn't encounter any bandits on the way. Or should I say, unfortunate?"

"Were you hoping for a fight?"

"Honestly, I was curious to see how strong your martial arts are, considering my father speaks so highly of you."

Caleb, her coachman and bodyguard, laughed heartily as he guided the reins.

"It's only because the family head sees too much value in my meager skills."

"If Father were that naïve, the Everstone Clan would've fallen long ago."

The Everstone Clan, renowned as the most intelligent bloodline in the Nine Provinces, were descendants of the legendary Liana Everston.

Though their martial strength was limited, it hardly mattered.

Their focus was never on physical prowess but on honing their minds—their Upper core, to be precise—through unique cultivation methods.

"So, what do you think of this year's tournament?"

"Who knows… We'll find out when we get there."

The Everstone Clan's influence wasn't limited to strategy. They were instrumental during the Demonic Sect Purge, using their intellect to prevent countless disasters.

The famed strategist Alexander and his Council of Strategists had saved innumerable lives by identifying weaknesses in their foes within mere moments of battle.

Through subtle signals and covert messages, they had turned the tide of countless fights against the Demonic Sect's elites.

Even now, fifty years after the Demonic Sect's downfall, remnants of that dark force persisted.

"Apparently, the head of the Everstone Clan's Internal Affairs is on their way," said Magnus, delivering the news to Gideon.

"The head of Internal Affairs?"

Gideon raised an eyebrow.

Surely, their official reason for coming was to celebrate the tournament.

The Everstone Clan, being more akin to scholars and merchants than warriors, seldom showed much interest in martial arts tournaments.

But the timing was too deliberate to be mere coincidence.

Last year, they hadn't come at all.

The year before, they had.

Each time, they had brought a mysterious gift for Aiden before leaving quietly.

"There must be some secret between that woman and Aiden," Gideon muttered.

"Shall I investigate, Master?" Magnus offered.

Looking down at his disciple—the Cherry Blossom Sword Lord, one of the Seven Lords of Martial World—Gideon gave a measured nod.

"Do it. But be discreet."

"I will tread carefully."

"And as for the underground prison beneath Southern Peak, we'll visit it after the tournament concludes."

"Understood."

With a bow, Magnus retreated.

Gideon, rising from his seat, stepped out of the Scarlet Crown Chamber and addressed the gathered audience.

"Thank you all for waiting patiently," he began.

The tented crowd quickly waved off his apology.

"The finalist expended significant inner energy earlier, so we delayed the match to allow recovery. However, an unexpected matter has arisen, and I must request a further delay of two hours."

From the crowd, Ebon raised his hand to speak.

"What matter requires such time, Sect Leader? May we assist in any way?"

"No, it's nothing so urgent. The head of the Everstone Clan's Internal Affairs is arriving and must be welcomed appropriately."

The crowd murmured among themselves.

The Internal Affairs managed the internal workings of the Everstone Clan.

The sudden arrival of its head was both rare and intriguing.

"I thought the Everstone Clan's head of Internal Affairs was a gentle lady," someone remarked.

"She may be graceful, but as head of Internal Affairs, she cannot be soft," another replied.

As the murmurs continued, Gideon cleared his throat.

"The head of Internal Affairs has traveled far to witness this tournament. It would be discourteous to proceed without them. I humbly request your patience."

The leader of the Akrest Clan, the Sword Sovereign, spoke next.

"Our clan will gladly wait," he declared.

With the Akrest Clan's agreement, no merchant or clan leader dared object.

"Master, did you hear? The Everstone Clan is coming!"

Ethan, known for his curiosity and wandering, was always first to catch such news.

"The Everstone Clan, you say? Could it be the head of their Internal Affairs Pavilion?"

"How did you know?"

Aiden let out a long sigh.

Despite the cleansing breeze and the moments of introspection, hearing the name Everstone Clan again stirred unease in Aiden's heart.

"This will be troublesome."

"The Everstone Clan, or the Head of Internal Affairs Pavilion?" asked Ethan, tilting his head in confusion.

"Both," Aiden replied curtly.

Ethan, ever curious, reflected on the past tournaments. The Everstone Clan had skipped the last Martial Meeting, and the one before that, only Marcus, their senior brother, had been present.

"Where's Senior Brother Marcus? Oh… Asleep already?"

Marcus, who had been meditating to heal his internal injuries, was now deeply asleep. Awakening him was a task only a demon would dare to attempt, and Ethan, though mischievous, was no demon.

At that moment, Vera returned to the tent alongside Jace. They had left earlier to discuss something privately.

"So, did you two figure out how you'll settle the match?" asked Ethan with a grin.

"Yes, Senior Brother. We discussed it," Vera replied calmly.

Ethan blinked in surprise.

"Wait… Did you just conspire to rig the match with Senior Brother Jace!?"

"It's not like that…"

"Rigging the match? What do you take me for, Ethan?"

"Ah, Senior Brother! That's not what I meant. So, what did you decide?"

Jace chuckled and crossed his arms, a wry smile on his face.

"We agreed to settle it with swordsmanship alone—no inner energy."

"All those dramatic poses, and now you're throwing the match away? Can you even win like that?"

"No, absolutely not."

Jace was certain of his loss. The technique Vera had displayed during the last match, Blossoming Spring, was on a level far beyond him.

Every movement of her blade, the arc of every swing—it all carried a grace and refinement he couldn't match.

It wasn't simply the abundant inner energy that had summoned those blossoms.

"Still, I'll make sure I don't lose disgracefully," Jace added.

Ethan tilted his head, then grinned.

"Don't worry, Senior Brother."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I lost to her too. Many times."

The realization struck Jace like a blow, and he buried his face in his hands.

Ethan, who was considered slightly more skilled than Jace, had never won against Vera.

"…Vera, is it true that Ethan never managed to defeat you, not even once?"

"If I were to be precise, yes," Vera replied.

"To be even more precise, I never even managed to brush her sleeve," added Ethan with a sheepish laugh.

"…Heavens above," Jace muttered, his confidence shattering entirely.

Still, he had assumed Ethan could win at least one out of ten matches.

Seeing him slump in defeat, Vera gently patted his shoulder.

"Senior Brother, you are an excellent swordsman."

"That's not comforting at all, Vera…"

At the foothills of Mount Suncrest, the carriage of the Everstone Clan arrived.

It was a modest sight: a single coachman and a single passenger.

Yet no one dared to belittle it.

The coachman, Caleb, was a renowned swordsman. Known as the Sword That Splits Skulls, his signature technique, Cloud Piercing Sword Technique, was said to split even the heavens.

His nickname came from his precise strikes, which left his victims with a blade embedded between their eyes.

Though his skills were legendary, Caleb had once been ensnared by a trap laid by remnants of the Demonic Sect. At the brink of death, it was the head of the Everstone Clan who had personally rescued him, defying logic and risking their own safety.

Since that day, Caleb had sworn eternal loyalty to the clan head, vowing to serve until his last breath.

"Welcome, Head of Internal Affairs," greeted Magnus, bowing deeply. "I am Magnus, first disciple of the Mount Suncrest Sect. The Sect Leader awaits you at the Scarlet Crown Chamber."

"Thank you for the warm welcome," replied Aria, returning the bow with grace.

"I hope I have not arrived too late. Is the tournament already concluded?"

"No, you've come just in time. The finalists are currently resting after an intense match," Magnus explained.

"That's a relief. I look forward to seeing the future of the Mount Suncrest Sect."

As Caleb helped Aria down from the carriage, Magnus led the way up the mountain.

"Shall we go?"

"You go ahead. I will follow shortly," Aria said, glancing back at Caleb as he tended to the horses.

"…Wouldn't it have been better to go ahead, young miss?"

"How could I leave you behind?"

"I am far sturdier than you, young miss," Caleb said with a faint smile.

Despite his words, Aria gazed up the mountain with a mixture of worry and regret.

"…Thinking about Aiden, aren't you?"

"I owe him a debt I can never repay."

"You only delivered the Alliance's orders. It wasn't your fault."

"But I knew. I knew what would happen," Aria whispered, clenching her fists.

"…Even without those orders, we could have handled it. We would have found another way."