The Cunning Treasure Hunter

Chapter 58 The Wandering Path: Embers of the Future

"Ha…"

"What's wrong, Master?" Vera asked with a slight tilt of her head.

"Ah, Vera. It's not exactly a problem… Well, perhaps it is."

Aiden hesitated, searching for a more fitting word.

Calling it a problem made it seem like an obstacle to overcome, but the Wandering Trial was not merely a hurdle.

If she succeeded?

If, along the way, she earned renown as a swordswoman and displayed her talent?

At fourteen years old, to gain a title and draw the attention of the Nine Provinces, would mean safety.

Her father, the Black Cherry Swordsman, had survived long enough to speak his truths because of his reputation.

In the martial world, a renowned name is a shield. It deters oppression, gathers allies, and grants authority to one's voice.

All these intangible assets could one day fuel the force to defeat the Sword Sovereign, dismantle the Heavenly Unity, and reshape this suffocating world.

"Master, just say it. I'm listening," Vera urged, her tone cutting through his delay.

Aiden met her gaze—those dark, bottomless eyes. Black as the void between stars, endless and immeasurable.

"Your Wandering Trial has been decided."

Vera's Room

Aiden and his disciples sat together, huddled to discuss the two companions who would accompany her on the journey.

"Isn't it too dangerous? She's too young for this," Marcus said, voicing his concerns first.

His worry was valid.

Though it was called a journey, the Wandering was little more than wandering penniless through the martial world.

For a small, slender fourteen-year-old girl, it was undeniably perilous—even if she was a Supreme Expert.

Vera had her limits. She realized this during her duel with Theron—her stamina, her lack of experience, and the innate social disadvantages of her fragile frame.

She couldn't always intimidate her way through situations, radiating deadly intent like the Celestial Blade Star. That wasn't the purpose of the Wandering Trial anyway. It was meant to teach her about the world.

"Yes, it is dangerous," Aiden admitted. "But fortunately, the destination and timeline are fixed."

"Well, that's a relief." Marcus exhaled, balling his fists before speaking firmly.

"I will go with her."

"Marcus, you are the First Senior Brother of the Third-Generation Disciples."

Though Aiden's words were meant to dissuade him, his tone was gentle, tinged with a sense of relief.

If anyone could be trusted, it was Marcus.

It wasn't just his skill or inner energy that made him dependable. His prudence, thoughtfulness, and understanding of the world were unmatched.

While Noah might have been better at reading the flow of goods and money as the son of a merchant guild leader, he lacked the leadership qualities to guide others.

Vera was a sword—a weapon needing a steady hand to wield it. Left untended, it would rust and break.

"Master."

"Yes?"

"This lowly disciple, Marcus, wishes to forego his title as the First Senior Brother of All Third-Generation Disciples—just this once—to serve as Vera's Senior Brother."

He bowed deeply to Aiden.

Perhaps Aiden hadn't expected such determination.

Vera's eyes widened, blinking rapidly as she glanced between her master and Marcus.

"...Do you truly wish to do this?"

"Yes. This time, I won't change my mind."

"Very well. Pack your belongings. As for the second companion…"

Aiden glanced at his gathered disciples: Ethan, Noah, Jace, and Dylan.

As he'd already considered, Noah was not suitable.

Dylan, still recovering, was also out of the question.

That left Ethan and Jace.

Ethan was playful, often causing trouble alongside Noah.

In contrast, Jace had shown maturity recently, bowing his head to plead for Dylan's sake.

It was clear who would be more reliable.

"Jace, can I entrust this task to you?"

Aiden's decision fell on Jace.

Since joining Aiden's tutelage, Jace had grown more responsible, especially with Dylan's struggles. Though abandoning his former master was a harsh choice, it stemmed from a deep care for his junior sister.

Could such compassion be called cold?

However, Jace quietly shook his head and bowed low.

"I must care for Dylan, Master. Please excuse me."

Aiden cast a glance at Dylan.

After her duel with Vera, Dylan was left half-destroyed.

It wasn't because of external factors but rather due to her own beliefs. She was utterly convinced that her defeat would lead to the brutal death of her senior, Jace.

There had been no chance to inform her of the wager beforehand. No, it was better that way. Revealing it would have been akin to trampling on Dylan's pride as a martial artist. Wouldn't it imply that survival was worth compromising her dignity and admitting defeat?

Even Aiden and Jace had not foreseen such consequences.

Though Jace was alive and now under Aiden's tutelage, Dylan was still haunted. She constantly remained on edge, wary of an attack from Aetheris and Magnus, knowing full well the kind of people they were. Ruthless individuals who could strike anywhere, at any time.

The fear was an unshakable shadow, threatening to consume her. If left unchecked, it was only a matter of time before she succumbed to inner demons and possibly even energy Deviation.

"…I see. That makes sense. Take good care of Dylan."

"Thank you, Master."

Now only Ethan remained.

Though playful and mischievous at times, his heart was upright, and he was fiercely loyal. He would rather die than disobey a direct command.

Reliable? Perhaps not entirely. But untrustworthy? Certainly not. Besides, his swordsmanship was solid, and his youthful exuberance made him well-suited for such a task.

"Ethan."

"Yes! Hooray!"

No further discussion was needed.

Aiden rewarded Ethan's enthusiasm with a firm knock to the head. It didn't change the decision but set the tone.

The sound echoed.

Thud—thud—thud!

Someone was knocking on the grand doors of the Mount Suncrest Sect.

The enormous and solid doors were crafted from Black Wood, paired with a door knocker forged from black iron. Together, their collision produced a sound akin to a small bell tolling.

Slowly, the gates creaked open. The guards stationed there froze at the sight of the visitor.

It was none other than Valen, also known as Flamestrike, the former Head of Heavenly Net Division.

"V-Valen, what brings you to the Mount Suncrest Sect?"

"Is Aria here?"

"If you mean Lady Aria, she resides in the second annex."

"Am I permitted entry?"

The guards exchanged glances before bowing deeply.

Allowing him immediate entry was out of the question. They could not ascertain whether he was a guest or an intruder. But neither could they turn him away.

Was he not one of the legendary Three Greats and Seven Sovereigns, ranked among the Three Greats?

"Would you mind waiting a moment? He will inform Lady Aria and return shortly."

Valen merely nodded.

One of the guards sprinted up the mountain, leaving the other behind to manage the awkward silence. The remaining guard spoke cautiously.

"…If I may be so bold, could I ask a question?"

"Go ahead."

"I was under the impression that Valen still serves as the Head of the Heavenly Net Division. What brings you to the Mount Suncrest Sect?"

The presence of Valen often signaled doom for sects. Entire clans had been erased from the martial world under his command. While such incidents hadn't involved the Nine Great Sects or the Five Noble Clans, numerous mid-sized sects had been wiped out by his blade alone.

His mere presence here suggested that the elite warriors of the Heavenly Net Division might also be nearby. The thought was terrifying.

If the Mount Suncrest Sect were to enter direct conflict with the Heavenly Net Division, or worse, if the Pavilion declared the sect heretical and moved to obliterate it…

The guard felt sweat trickling down his neck, as though he had just glimpsed death itself.

"Your expression betrays your thoughts," Valen said dryly.

"I-I had some grim thoughts…."

"I resigned from my position as the Pavilion Head on my way here. Your concerns are unnecessary."

The guard's face instantly relaxed, a sigh of relief escaping his lips.

"Ah, thank you for clarifying. I apologize for my unwarranted worry."

"…Think nothing of it."

Valen waved dismissively. Normally, such insolence would have earned the guard a blow to the wall. But his son's death seemed to have softened him—or at least made him reflect.

The realization that he was feared across the world weighed heavily. It was a testament to how many lives he had ended without hesitation.

Even so, he could not abandon his quest for vengeance. It would be the last act of violence he allowed himself.

"Now then. The First Stage Tournament should be underway, correct? Is it going well?"

It was a perfunctory question. Valen was aware of the tournament's existence, where Mount Suncrest's young disciples demonstrated their skills in duels.

"The news hasn't fully spread yet, but something remarkable occurred."

"Remarkable?"

"Yes. A young girl named Vera, who joined the sect just a month ago, won the tournament and even defeated the Young Lord of Akrest Clan."