The Cunning Treasure Hunter

Chapter 93 Storming the Hollow Demon Valley

Hollow Demon Valley.

The second most renowned mountain in Eastern Mountain, surpassed only by Great Mountain. However, it was no longer a place of natural beauty; now, it served as the headquarters of the Crimson Demon Gate.

In front of the Hollow Demon Valley, murmurs spread among those assembled. The cause of the unrest? The absence of the reinforcement promised by the Heavenly Unity.

Even without them, the assembled forces were sufficient.

Twenty mercenaries hired by the Fiery Blade clan.A single high-ranking martial artist from the Golden Peak Clan, sent out of goodwill.The rest were loyal members of the Fiery Blade clan, including the fearsome Black Eagle Guard, which remained intact despite the family losing its previous leader.

Still, the lack of attention from the Heavenly Unity, especially in matters involving remnants of the Demonic Cult, was odd. Their justification was that they were dealing with another faction of cultists elsewhere. But here, it wasn't just the Demonic Cult; members of the Unorthodox Factions were also involved.

Pondering the Unity's motives would lead nowhere. Regis, the current leader of the Fiery Blade clan, decided to focus on the present task.

He turned to the man beside him—a martial artist in his thirties with a dignified bearing and sharp features.

"It is an honor to meet the renowned young hero, Gareth, of Golden Fist."

"Not at all, Leader Regis. After all, we're neighbors, are we not?"

Though their families were not directly adjacent within Eastern Mountain, the two leaders exchanged polite greetings.

Gareth—a prodigious talent of the Golden Peak Clan, who had achieved the pinnacle stage of Profound Mastery by the age of thirty. Despite dealing with only minor remnants of the Demonic Cult, he had already crushed three such factions. His reputation for aiding impoverished villages earned him the title Benevolent Yellow Dragon of Golden Peak Clan.

He embodied the elegance and pride associated with his noble lineage.

But his composure faltered when he noticed three young figures standing to the side. "Who are those children?"

"They are the third-generation disciples of Mount Suncrest, traveling with our family for their escort mission."

"Children from Mount Suncrest? And you've brought them to a battlefield?"

Though his words implied surprise rather than judgment, the reaction caused Leader Regis to chuckle awkwardly. "We're short on hands."

Realizing his unintended slight, Gareth bowed his head. "I apologize for my rudeness."

"It's no issue. But do not underestimate them."

"What do you mean?"

"See the smallest one among them?"

"The young lady?"

Though he refrained from calling her a mere "girl," his chosen words still revealed skepticism.

"Yes, her. She has reached the pinnacle stage of Profound Mastery."

"...What?"

The words struck him like a thunderclap. The pinnacle stage—the same realm he himself had achieved. And this was from a girl who looked no older than fourteen?

"And she's the one who killed Ashen, the Blood Sword Corps' leader."

"You mean the infamous Night Ghost, Ashen?"

"Indeed. Not only that, she shattered his Crescent Moon Blood Slash."

The Crescent Moon Blood Slash—a technique that fired blade energy with deadly precision. It was among the most fearsome moves in Ashen's Scarlet Shadow Blade Arts.

"And she broke it?"

"Like smashing pottery with her sword."

Breaking an opponent's technique required either overwhelming power or an intimate understanding of their martial arts' weaknesses. For someone so young to accomplish this...

"Can such a claim be true?"

"I witnessed it myself."

Faced with the undeniable testimony of the Leader Regis, Gareth swallowed hard. Regis wasn't prone to exaggeration. If anything, he was known for his blunt honesty.

"If you doubt my words, why not speak with her yourself?"

"...I trust your account."

"You'll see for yourself soon enough."

Still, Gareth was uneasy. While the Crimson Demon Gate was not a top-tier force, eliminating them would require a massacre. No one left alive.

Turning his gaze back to the girl, he murmured, "Even if she is capable... is it right to throw a fourteen-year-old into such bloodshed?"

Regis let out a faint chuckle.

Gareth couldn't understand what amused him.

"Think of it as the lament of an outdated old man," Regis said with a shrug.

"Pardon?"

"A sword is a tool forged to kill," he continued. "Men or women, anyone who carries a blade trains in the art of taking lives. That's what martial arts are, young hero." Continue your journey on My Virtual Library Empire

Gareth pressed his lips together, silently lowering his gaze to his clenched fists.

Even the Golden Fist, passed down by the Golden Peak Clan, had killing techniques. Why train in such techniques? The answer was simple: to kill.

Could the swordplay of Mount Suncrest lack similar lethality? If the girl had learned such techniques, then she, too, had accepted the path of a killer. It meant that despite her young age, she had already established herself as a true martial artist of the world.

"That's... true," he admitted reluctantly.

"Exactly," Regis replied. "That's what it means to walk the martial path."

Just then, a horn sounded in the distance.

It signaled the beginning of a full-scale assault.

The Fiery Blade clan had chosen to launch an all-out attack.

With a unified battle cry, the assembled warriors surged forward into the Hollow Demon Valley.

"Let's go," Regis said.

"Yes, leader."

Gareth and Regis leaped into action, moving to the frontlines. Energy surged around their fists and weapons as they advanced.

Throwing weapons rained down upon them, but their numbers were sparse.

"Deflect them all! Don't let a single weapon land!"

The Unorthodox Factions were no longer what they used to be. Even with the support of the Demonic Cult, their initial attack had cost them dearly—especially the loss of Ashen, the Blood Sword Corps Leader.

The clash of steel resounded as throwing weapons collided with spearheads and blades.

And then, Gareth saw her.

Standing twenty paces to his right was a girl wielding a long, slender, and jet-black sword.

'...She's so calm.'

Her dark eyes, tranquil yet piercing, seemed unfazed by the chaos. The elegant arc of her blade painted a serene trail in the air. Her swordsmanship was leagues above the twenty mercenaries they had hired.

"Enemy sighted! They're revealing themselves!"

From the shadows emerged the Blood Sword Corps, clad in crimson attire and wielding gleaming swords.

The first to meet them was none other than Vera.

Her small frame and flowing black hair stood out among the warriors, as did the radiant glint of her sword—a weapon any martial artist would envy.

"There she is! The one who killed the Corps Leader!"

Her distinctive appearance made her easily identifiable. Some of the corps hesitated, recalling the tales of how she had shattered the Crescent Moon Blood Slash and decapitated Ashen.

But ignorance breeds courage. The rest charged at her without hesitation.

Clink, clink!

Five swords converged on her in a single instant, but Vera deflected them effortlessly.

Her Falling Blossom Sword danced gracefully, disrupting the attackers' rhythm. The tangled blades threw their stances into disarray, leaving them vulnerable.

In that fleeting moment of chaos, her blade struck.

Sshhkk!

One attacker fell, his throat slashed cleanly. The arc of her blade painted a crimson streak in the air.

The others faltered, their movements stuttering as they witnessed their comrade's demise.

"Pull your swords free! We'll all die like this!"

"The formation is compromised! Move back!"

But before they could retreat, another fell.

Sshhkk!

Her precision was chilling—her sword severed a throat without hesitation. By the time the second attacker crumpled, the remaining three finally managed to disentangle themselves and retreat.

"How… how does she know the flaws in our formation?"

She didn't answer. Instead, her dark eyes gleamed as they followed an invisible red line—the killing line, guiding her strikes.

By exploiting the weak points of their formation, she dismantled the group's unity. A single decisive move had rendered their formation meaningless.

And the rest of the Blood Sword Corps hesitated.

"She broke the formation?"

"Impossible! This was taught to us directly by the Sword Demon of the Infernal Blade Corps!"

"Could they all know the counter-techniques?"

The idea that a single girl had broken their formation seemed absurd. It was easier to believe that their enemies had prepared extensively, learning their every tactic.

Fear rippled through their ranks.

Victory in battle often hinged on morale. In this small-scale skirmish, morale proved just as critical.

Gareth watched the girl's slender figure at the forefront.

'She couldn't have learned the counter-techniques. She's not even from Eastern Mountain.'

Which meant... she had broken the formation through sheer intuition.

If it was a fluke, her composure was remarkable. If it wasn't...

'She's a monster.'

Such talent defied the boundaries of humanity.

As Vera calmly surveyed the forty-eight remaining enemies, she noticed that none dared to advance.

Their martial prowess ranged from the peak of first-rate to mid-level transcendence. Yet, they hesitated before her—a girl radiating sword energy as tangible as the heat of the sun.

"She's really... at the pinnacle stage," someone murmured in disbelief.

The rumors had spoken of a Mount Suncrest girl who was already at the pinnacle. Many hadn't believed them.

But disbelief brought them here, and now they were paying the price.