The Cunning Treasure Hunter

Chapter 88 Shadows of Blood

?The Bloodshadow Pavilion Lord has made a move.

I killed him.

That girl you wanted me to protect… Well…

She's indeed worthy of Aiden's attention.

She's being pursued.

It seems she's headed to the Eastern Mountain Fiery Blade clan.

I'll contact you again if there's anything else to report.?

Aria handed the letter in her hand to Caleb.

She had not yet reached the Supreme Peak, so she could not summon the Three Flame Purity to burn the letter.

A turquoise flame flickered to life on Caleb's fingers.

In an instant, the paper turned to ash.

"Eastern Mountain Fiery Blade clan, is it…"

"What's bothering you so much, young miss?"

"…Uncle Caleb."

Aria pouted slightly.

Even though she rarely called him "Uncle," Caleb only chuckled at her reaction.

At fifty-five years old, he had grown comfortable with such titles.

"I rather like it when you call me Uncle. It feels closer."

"Then I'll have to call you something more formal."

"Your stern demeanor suits you just as well."

"Good grief, I can't win against you."

With a sigh, Aria shook her head.

Caleb merely shrugged and resumed sweeping the small courtyard with his broom.

This was the Everstone Clan, specifically the inner hall where Aria, the youngest daughter, resided.

And Caleb served as her sole cook, bodyguard, and attendant.

"Doesn't it hurt your pride as a martial artist to sweep and cook here?"

"Not at all, young miss."

It was a question she had asked multiple times, always receiving the same answer.

But such repetition had a soothing effect.

"...Her name was Vera, wasn't it?"

"Yes."

"What's your opinion of her, Uncle Calebl?"

"What do you mean?"

"Her talent."

Caleb paused his sweeping, deep in thought.

He recalled the last memory he had of her, fighting Theron in a duel.

"She's a monster."

"A monster? What do you mean by that?"

Aria narrowed her eyes.

The term "monster" was never used lightly, especially not by Caleb.

Aside from the deranged members of the Demonic Sect, he rarely called anyone a monster.

"She is something far removed from what we define as human."

"…Far removed from being human."

"Yes. The members of the Demonic Sect may have abandoned their humanity, but…"

Caleb slung the broom over his shoulder, much like one would rest a sword.

"They still began within the bounds of humanity."

"…I don't understand. She seemed like just a talented young girl to me."

Aria Everstone squinted, clearly unconvinced.

Caleb chuckled and shrugged.

"It's a swordsman's instinct, you could say."

"Instinct?"

"Yes. It's like knowing when someone is destined to surpass you soon… That sort of feeling."

His words hovered between jest and sincerity, leaving Aria staring at him, wide-eyed.

"…Are you serious?"

"I'm not as sharp as Aiden, but I can tell when someone has more potential than me."

By the time someone reached the Supreme Peak, they were often given a nickname.

Caleb had earned his: the Sword That Splits Skulls, for his ability to cleave a man's head vertically.

For him to claim that someone—a fourteen-year-old girl, no less—would surpass him?

"She'll surpass the wall of the Supreme Peak, won't she?"

"She might have already done so by now."

This time, his tone was more playful, enough to make even Aria laugh.

The night before their departure.

There was no more ash drifting through the Eastern Mountain Fiery Blade clan grounds.

With funds at his disposal, Regis, the family head, had swiftly organized a thorough cleanup.

His determination to rebuild the clan as quickly as possible was unyielding.

He had hired nearly every commoner in Eastpeace County to clear the wreckage in less than half a day.

A significant amount of silver had been spent, but he did not care.

Burned and crumbled houses were dismantled, leaving only their stone foundations behind.

Stone did not burn, after all.

However, a few stones still bore traces of soot that had not been fully scrubbed away.

The moonlight shone brightly.

Under the full moon, Vera stood quietly, gazing at the reflection of the moon above.

"What are you doing here?"

It was the voice of Marcus.

Vera smiled faintly without even turning around.

Marcus, puzzled by her reaction, tilted his head.

"…Why are you laughing?"

"Are you that worried about me, senior brother?"

"Of course I am."

He had probably searched every corner of the Fiery Blade clan's estate to find her, only to act nonchalant when he finally did, speaking as though it was a mere coincidence.

That was just the kind of person he was.

"You asked what I was doing, didn't you?"

"…Yes."

"I'm looking at the moon."

Marcus was momentarily at a loss for words.

That wasn't the answer he had been expecting, but he couldn't exactly call it wrong either.

"…The moon."

"Yes."

"Mind if I join you?"

"Feel free."

A cool night breeze swept through the air.

Clouds hung in the sky, occasionally passing over the moon and casting a soft halo of light.

Vera gazed at it quietly.

"Senior brother."

"What is it?"

"What would you do in my position?"

Not understanding her meaning, Marcus could only ask for clarification.

"What do you mean?"

"If you were the Crimson Demon Gate's Sect Leader or the Infernal Blade Corps's Lord…"

Her gaze fell from the sky to the ground, her head lowering slightly.

Soft strands of her white hair brushed against her pale cheeks.

"Would you wait for the Fiery Blade clan to come for you?"

"…Then, you're saying…"

"I'm uneasy, senior brother."

Vera stood from the stone foundation where she had been sitting.

Moonlight poured over her, glinting off her flowing black hair and the white martial robes that draped her small frame.

"If it were me… I'd strike now."

"Vera."

"I would attack them when they're finally starting to recover, when they're least expecting it, and shatter them."

The young girl clenched her small fist tightly, her knuckles turning white.

She bit her lip at the cruel thoughts swirling in her mind.

But no matter how she looked at it, if she were part of the Demonic Sect, or the leader of one of the unorthodox factions…

She would do exactly that.

"I'm a little scared."

"What are you afraid of?"

"That I'm thinking the same way they would…"

"They haven't come yet. It might not even be tonight."

Marcus rose from his seat, trying to reassure her.

But Vera shook her head, her left hand settling lightly on the hilt of the Falling Blossom Sword.

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She looked toward the entrance of the Fiery Blade clan's estate.

"No. They're coming."

"Are you certain?"

"Yes."

Closing her eyes, she could almost sense it—a faint, metallic tang of blood lingering in the air.

It wasn't real.

It was a unique instinct, the kind only someone born under the Celestial Blade Star could possess.

A sharpened premonition forged from a lifetime of sensing blood, slaughter, and malice.

"I smell blood."

"What nonsense are you spouting, Vera?"

Her skin prickled.

A sudden and sharp killing intent filled the air.

Vera partially unsheathed her sword.

—Clang!!

Something struck her blade—a dagger, its edge coated with poison.

Vera shouted in a sharp, clear voice.

"Senior brother!"

"Yes, I'm on it!"

Marcus immediately dashed toward the annex, his body disappearing with swift footwork.

Meanwhile, Vera stood her ground, fully unsheathing her blade.

The Falling Blossom Sword shimmered with a faint aura, its Sword energy rippling like heatwaves.

Whether it was the Infernal Blade Corps or the Crimson Demon Gate didn't matter right now.

Half-closing her eyes, she let her other senses sharpen.

Eyes alone were unreliable.

For a swordsman, survival often depended on sensing the blade flying toward the back of their head.

More importantly, Vera had been born under the Celestial Blade Star.

Her sensitivity to blood, murder, and malice was unparalleled.

—Clink! Clang! Whirr!

Two more daggers and a meteor hammer came flying at her.

With a flick of her sword, Vera deflected the chain wrapping around her blade, sending it spiraling back toward its owner.

From the shadows came a slow clap.

A man carrying a massive Great Curved Blade, its crimson hue glinting under the moonlight, emerged.

It was Ashen, the Night Ghost, leader of the Blood Sword Corps under the Crimson Demon Gate.

"Not bad for a little girl. I only picked up dagger arts for fun, but you've already rendered them useless."

"State your affiliation."

"No, thanks."

He drew the enormous Great Curved Blade from his back.

The weapon gleamed malevolently, its bloody hue not from stains but its natural color.

A sinister aura of killing intent radiated from the blade.

"…You're from an unorthodox sect."

"Sharp, aren't you, little girl?"

"I only guessed because I don't sense any Devil's energy, so you're not from the Demonic Sect."

Ashen found the girl increasingly unsettling.

Her overly calm demeanor was one thing.

But those dark, emotionless eyes… What were they?

Even as he brandished his massive blade and exuded killing intent, she showed no fear.

More than anything, he couldn't gauge her level.

There were only three possibilities:

She had no training, she was far above him, or…

She was his equal.

"…That can't be right."

Unfortunately for Ashen, the Crimson Demon Gate's intelligence network was nowhere near as fast or accurate as that of the Nomads' Sect.