The Cunning Treasure Hunter

Chapter 97 The Burning Tiger's Intervention

Hollow Demon Valley

In the dense forest surrounding the Crimson Demon Gate,

The Infernal Blade Corps stood in formation, their presence shrouded in thick, oppressive demonic energy.

They were aligned with the overwhelming aura of their Division Leader, the Sword Ghost, Daven,

Their intent clear: to suffocate the opposition with sheer force.

But they were unaware—

The very demonic energy they exuded gave away their positions.

Swish.

Without a sound, one of the Infernal Blade Corps's members fell,

Dead before he could scream.

From the shadows, a figure moved, silent and deadly.

The black-clad figure's steps echoed the infamous Shadow Veil Step,

A stealth technique honed for assassins.

Slash. Thud.

Another head rolled to the ground.

As the faint sound drew attention,

A third man, just realizing what had happened to his headless comrade, opened his mouth to scream—

But his head, too, was severed.

The unseen swordsman caught the falling head,

Gently placing it on the ground to avoid any sound.

One by one,

The Infernal Blade Corps's warriors fell.

With each swing of the soot-stained blade,

A life was extinguished.

But the assassin showed no emotion.

After all, his targets were followers of the Demonic Cult,

People who had abandoned their humanity to serve a Malefic Deity.

Yet among them stood one who was different—

A warrior on the verge of the pinnacle of the peak realm,

The Sword Ghost's daughter, Vice Commander Helena.

"Who…?!"

She sensed the threat,

But her reaction was too slow.

In the moment she opened her mouth,

The assassin's blade was already at her lips.

At nearly sixty years old,

Helena cursed her body's sluggishness.

Yet the assassin's face, partially visible beneath his black bamboo hat,

Belonged to a man in his fifties.

"How…?"

She would never learn the answer.

The assassin said nothing,

His blade delivering a final, fatal strike.

Meanwhile, Vera refused to accept her end.

Using her sword for support,

She forced herself to rise, glaring at the Sword Ghost.

Her gaze burned with murderous intent,

But her body was broken.

"Your eyes still burn bright," the Sword Ghost sneered.

"I'll be sure to watch the light fade from them when you die. Heh heh heh…"

He didn't mock her further.

In a single stride, he closed the distance,

Grabbing her right wrist with his left hand and twisting it with a sickening crack.

"Urgh…"

"Does it hurt?" he asked with feigned concern.

"…I have… one question…"

The Falling Blossom Sword slipped from her fingers,

Her grip failing as pain shot through her arm.

He had pressed precisely against the tendons in her wrist,

Making it impossible to hold the blade.

"How… how did you know I am the Celestial Blade Star?"

"Those eyes, of course.

Anyone in the Demonic Cult who has seen the Heavenly Demon or the Young Cult Leader would recognize them.

"And now… playtime is over, girl."

"Never… not without a fight…" Vera gritted her teeth,

Clenching her small left fist.

The Sword Ghost ignored her.

What could her frail, powerless fist possibly accomplish?

He shifted his grip,

Grabbing her by the throat and lifting her off the ground.

"Ugh… ack… ngh…"

Vera struck his wrist with her fist,

But it was like punching steel.

Time seemed to stretch endlessly as she dangled helplessly.

Her legs hung limp,

Her body twitching faintly.

Her chest heaved desperately,

Her shoulders rising and falling in a futile attempt to breathe.

The light in her eyes dimmed,

Her lips and cheeks turning pale.

"Ahh… nothing is more satisfying than choking the life out of someone," the Sword Ghost mused.

Vera's faint gasps and stifled sobs were all the resistance she could muster.

The Sword Ghost raised his free hand,

A blade-like chop forming in his fingers.

Black sword energy surged along the edge,

A malevolent energy ready to carve into her chest.

Just as it seemed all hope was lost,

A sword shot through the air like a falling star.

"What—?!"

The Sword Ghost deflected it with his sword energy-infused hand,

But the backlash sent a shudder through his arm.

"What… what kind of sword strike carries this much inner energy?"

A cold sweat ran down his spine.

Even he, the Sword Ghost,

Could not unleash such a feat.

The only one who could wield such force…

Was his master, the Sword Demon.

"Why so shocked?"

A calm voice echoed from the forest.

A man emerged,

Clad in black robes and a bamboo hat,

Holding a long sword that gleamed ominously.

Even in her fading consciousness, Vera struggled to focus on him.

"She'll die if you keep that up. Why not put her down?"

"Have you gone mad?!" the Sword Ghost roared,

His voice amplified with demonic energy,

So powerful that Vera coughed up blood,

Her frail Mixed energy Foundation unable to withstand the pressure.

"Ugh… ngh… ha…"

"She's going to die if you don't stop," the man repeated, his voice calm.

A familiar voice echoed.

The tone, playful yet taunting—

Vera had heard it somewhere before.

"And I was asked… to keep her alive."

The soot-stained blade in the man's hand shimmered,

As the flow of powerful inner energy swept the grime away,

Revealing a dazzling sword aura—Sword Force.

This was no mere sword energy,

But the blazing Sword Force of one who had entered the Heavenly Realm.

"A master of the Heavenly Realm?"

The Sword Ghost, Daven, muttered in disbelief.

It was the realm he had yearned for,

The one he was prepared to rip out Vera's heart to reach.

And yet, here stood a man, seemingly no older than fifty…

Who had already ascended.

"Life is unfair, isn't it? I get it, old man," the man said, his tone mocking.

A tiger of the sword, burning the skies.

This was Jordan, The Burning Tiger of Heaven,

One of the blades of the Rebellion of the Overturned Heavens.

"And bullying a little girl… that's no good."

"YOU!!!"

The Sword Ghost roared, but he knew his limits.

To face a Heavenly Realm master head-on was suicide.

Though the gap between peak-level and supreme-level was vast,

The gap between supreme-level and Heavenly Realm was immeasurable.

He had only one option.

The Sword Ghost's hand darted toward Vera's neck,

Attempting to take her hostage.

"You said you wanted her alive, didn't you?

Do as I say, or—"

"Or what?"

By the time the words left his mouth,

Jordan Akrest was already in front of him.

There was no escape.

The sword moved.

Its blue arc passed through the Sword Ghost's hand—

The one gripping Vera's throat.

Splurt!

Blood sprayed as the severed hand spun through the air,

Its long, blackened nails glinting faintly before falling to the ground.

"Aaagh! My hand! My right hand!!!"

Clutching his bleeding wrist,

The Sword Ghost hastily pressed on his pressure points to stop the flow.

"Whoa, that was close," Jordan muttered,

Catching Vera's collapsing body with one arm.

He held her effortlessly,

As if her weight meant nothing.

"You alright?" he asked softly.

Through hazy consciousness,

Vera struggled to make out his face.

"You… you're from back then…"

"Smart as ever, huh?" he replied with a grin.

"Nam…"

Before she could finish,

Jordan pressed a finger to her lips,

Shaking his head.

The message was clear: don't say it.

Even in her dazed state,

Vera nodded,

Closing her mouth tightly.

"You, from the Mount Suncrest Sect, right?" Jordan called out.

"Y-yes?" stammered Ethan,

Quickly running over.

He took Vera from Jordan,

As Marcus, still weakened from internal injuries,

Could not move.

"Stopped the bleeding yet?"

The Sword Ghost's wrist was a mangled mess,

And though he had managed to stop the blood loss,

The damage was done.

His dominant right hand was gone.

For a swordsman,

The loss of a hand was akin to losing their life.

Though he could wield a blade with his left,

It would never compare to his lost right hand.

Still, he had no choice.

'…The Infernal Blade Corps has been wiped out,'

The Sword Ghost realized.

They had been killed so quietly,

Not even a single disturbance reached him.

If one of them had noticed and resisted,

Surely, there would have been chaos.

But there was none.

"Your stealth is impressive," he spat.

"And you're still putting on airs?

Not bad for a man at death's door," Jordan retorted.

"You… you bastard! If I had just eaten that girl's heart—"

"You wanted to use the Heavenly Sound Blood Absorption Technique, didn't you?"

The Sword Ghost froze,

His lips pressing into a tight line.

How does he know that?

The Heavenly Sound Blood Absorption Technique was a secret,

Known only to a select few within the Demonic Cult.

The only others aware of it were the high-ranking members of the Martial Unity,

Or individuals of equivalent standing.

"Who… who are you?"

"If I wanted to tell you,

Why would I bother wearing this hat?"

Jordan raised his sword again,

Its brilliant Sword Force surging into the air.

"You've lived long enough as a swordsman.

Why so chatty? Let's skip the talk."