The Cunning Treasure Hunter

Chapter 84 Crimson Demon Gate: Schemes in the Shadows

Deep within the southern region of Eastern Mountain Province, nestled in the heart of Hollow Demon Valley, lay the hidden stronghold of the Crimson Demon Gate.

The sect leader, Adrian, sat at his desk, scanning through the latest reports brought by his informants.

One particular word caught his attention and furrowed his brow.

Demonic Sect.

"They've resurfaced?" he asked, his voice laced with skepticism.

"Yes, though it wasn't from their main base in the Ten Thousand Mountains, but..."

Before the informant could finish, Adrian slammed his palm on the desk, his face twisting into a scowl.

"So, it's just some leftover fools claiming to rise again? Do they have a death wish?"

"...They've half-destroyed the Eastern Mountain Fiery Blade clan," the informant added hesitantly.

"What?"

Shock flickered in Adrian's eyes, but only for a moment.

He was quick to calculate the implications. After all, it was his cunning that had allowed the Crimson Demon Gate to seize control of Eastern Mountain's underworld without the Fiery Blade clan realizing.

And it was also Adrian who had funneled just enough resources to the Demonic Sect remnants to ensure they could cause trouble—but not enough to pose a risk to his plans.

"They only asked for twenty silver ingots," Adrian mused aloud.

A considerable sum, but to him, it was a trivial cost.

The Demonic Sect wasn't a threat; they were an opportunity.

If they could destabilize the Eastern Mountain Fiery Blade clan—even just weaken them by a third—he could mobilize his forces and take over the entire province.

The Martial Unity?

By the time they reacted, he would already have the province under his control.

The Unity's headquarters were far from Eastern Mountain, and just sending information back and forth would take two weeks.

That was more than enough time.

Besides, the Crimson Demon Gate had a long history with the Demonic Sect.

His grandfather, the former leader of the sect, had once forged ties with them during their reign of terror.

Back then, the Crimson Demon Gate had received fragments of Demonic Martial Arts in exchange for guaranteeing the sect's activities in Eastern Mountain.

Though the techniques required the dangerous manipulation of Demonic energy, their power was undeniable.

It was through these teachings that the Crimson demon Spear, the signature martial art passed down to the leaders of the Crimson Demon Gate, was born.

The crimson energy that enveloped his fists was a testament to that legacy.

"Blood Sword Division, hear me!"

"At your command!"

"Today, the Crimson Demon Gate will rise again as the masters of Eastern Mountain!"

It was time to end the tiresome life of shadows.

No valley, no matter how breathtaking, could surpass the sight of a province bowing in submission.

The Shattered Fiery Blade clan

Back at the Eastern Mountain Fiery Blade clan the situation had begun to settle.

The annex, once reserved for guests, was now the only structure still intact.

The main halls and living quarters were either reduced to ashes or scorched beyond recognition by Demonic energy.

The remaining family members huddled in the annex, discussing their next steps.

"...You say you came from the Suncrest Sect to return the Demon-Cleaving Spear?"

Regis, the Leader, repeated the words in disbelief.

Marcus stepped forward and nodded, untying the bundle at his waist.

"We believe so. It appears that a Taoist of the Suncrest Sect had safeguarded it during the war. Unfortunately, that Taoist ascended during the conflict, leaving no further word."

The Suncrest Sect bore no fault in the Spear's absence.

They had merely been unable to return it sooner.

But for Regis, the return of the Demon-Cleaving Spear brought more bitterness than solace.

The Eastern Mountain Fiery Blade clan and the Spear Ironshadow Clan had long been the only two martial clans born from military roots.

The Ironshadow Clan possessed the Pear Blossom Spear, a divine relic passed down by its founder, Gabriel.

But the Fiery Blade clan's sacred relic had been lost during the last war with the Demonic Sect.

He had grown up watching his father and grandfather bow to the Ironshadow Clan's Leaders.

The absence of the Demon-Cleaving Spear had always been the reason for their defeat.

"...And now, after all this time," Regis murmured bitterly.

But what could he do now?

Even if he defeated the Ironshadow Clan's Leader, it wouldn't erase the clan's losses.

Half of the clan had been wiped out.

A quarter of his subordinates had turned traitor, seduced by the Demonic Sect.

His most talented daughter had fallen into darkness, and now she was dead.

"Was returning the Demon-Cleaving Spear your only reason for coming?" he asked.

"Yes. Originally, that was our sole purpose, but..."

Marcus trailed off, glancing at the ruins surrounding them.

The annex, though intact, had lost its paper doors, exposing the interior to the elements.

Smoke and ash hung heavily in the air.

"Would you permit us to assist you?"

"Assist me? Do you even understand what that entails?"

"Well..."

Marcus paused, realizing that his offer to help rebuild the clan wasn't the answer.

Even he could sense that much.

The question itself was clear: bloodshed was inevitable.

"Is this for revenge?"

Vera broke the silence, her calm voice cutting through the tension.

The Fiery Blade clan Leader, Regis, rose from his seat and nodded.

Revenge—it was not a matter of choice but necessity.

Against those who had seduced his eldest daughter.

Against those who had burned his clan to the ground.

Against those who had slaughtered his people.

Revenge was the only answer.

His hand swept through the air, and a blade of Sword energy materialized, solid and complete—a mark of his mastery beyond the halfway point of Transcendent Martial Mastery.

With a decisive motion, he severed the neck of his old spear.

Clang. Thud. Clatter.

The spearhead that had pierced his daughter's chest and pinned her to the wall fell to the ground.

Clenching his teeth, Regis reached for the Demon-Cleaving Spear, which lay wrapped in cloth nearby.

Its shaft, forged from Black Ironwood soaked and cured over decades, shone darkly in his hands.

As he infused his inner energy into the Spear, it seemed to awaken, greedily absorbing his power.

The long-dormant weapon radiated a fierce brilliance, its blade gleaming with condensed energy.

Both Marcus and Ethan could see it—this man was truly a master far beyond their reach.

"Yes, it is revenge," Regis declared. "Will you help me?"

"And this revenge—who is it directed toward?"

"Against the vile remnants of the Demonic Sect, and every rat that dared to assist them."

Vera nodded, her gaze shifting to Marcus.

Though he was the eldest of their group, the choice ultimately rested with her.

This was her journey of cultivation, her Wandering Trial, undertaken to learn from the world and become a Taoist of worth.

"What do you think, Senior Brother?"

"Vera, the decision is yours," Marcus replied. "Whatever it may be, we will follow you."

Vera fell into deep thought.

If it were only her?

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She would agree.

She could not bear to return to her master with shame, nor live with herself if she turned her back on vengeance against the Demonic Sect.

How could she ignore someone who, like her, sought revenge for a family lost?

But Marcus and Ethan were not like her.

Their skills were not on par with hers.

More importantly, they had never killed anyone.

She, on the other hand, had.

'…And I did so without hesitation.'

She had faced assassins who sought her life and slaughtered them with ease.

She had seen the blood, the corpses, the carnage she created with her own hands.

And yet, she felt nothing.

No guilt. No regret.

Even when confronting a Demonic Beast, a creature twisted beyond recognition, its human origins still visible in its monstrous form…

Others would have hesitated.

But not her.

The moment she deemed it a threat to be eliminated, her mind became crystal clear.

She did not falter at its grotesque appearance, nor pity its tragic fate.

Hesitation would have meant death.

Her senior brothers, however, would hesitate.

"Vera," Marcus called gently.

She turned to face him, her small frame and delicate figure betraying none of her inner strength.

He couldn't let her go alone.

"What is a sword meant for?"

The question hung in the air—a philosophical inquiry from a senior brother to his junior.

After a moment's thought, she answered, "It is a weapon meant to kill."

"We all carry swords, Vera. You, me, and Ethan alike. Keep that in mind."

It was his way of asking her not to bear the burden alone.

Though this was her journey, they were her brothers and would stand by her side.

"...Understood."

"Then, does the Suncrest Sect pledge to aid the Eastern Mountain Fiery Blade clan's revenge?"

The Leader rose, his Demon-Cleaving Spear gleaming in the light.

The meaning was clear: the Fiery Blade clan would forever remember this Unity as a debt of honor.

"Yes," Vera replied. "The Suncrest Sect will assist the Eastern Mountain Fiery Blade clan in seeking justice, vanquishing the remnants of the Demonic Sect, and restoring righteousness to the world."

The dignified tone of her words, so mature and resolute, seemed almost unreal coming from a child.

A faint smile crossed Regis's lips.

"Good. Then let it be so. This debt will not be forgotten."