The Cunning Treasure Hunter

Chapter 67 Shadows Ascend the Moonlit Peaks

The Eternal Might of Northern Mount of the Moon Iron Fist Sect

It wasn't a mere name of grandeur.

If the monks of Mount of the Moon unleashed their full killing intent, the resulting calamity would be too horrific to imagine.

The Iron Fist Sect was not merely a collection of monks.

If they designated someone or something as a public enemy, it would be nothing short of a disaster for that entity. And Iron Fist Sect had never, not once in its history, made an unjust public enemy declaration.

Yet among those who had been declared Iron Fist Sect's public enemies, there was one group that had managed to survive without facing annihilation.

The only reason they remained was because no one had ever discovered their true base of operations.

That group was the Bloodshadow Pavilion.

"Master, it has been confirmed. They ascended Mount of the Moon."

"I see... is that so."

"What are your orders?"

It was a deep, moonless night.

The crescent moon had long passed, leaving the sky pitch black. A young Night Reaper knelt before Ezekiel, the sixty-year-old leader of the Bloodshadow Pavilion.

"Let's see..."

The elderly man bent his crooked back further, chuckling to himself.

Iron Fist Sect, is it? Did they think they'd be safe after entering there?

The ones gathered here were not simply the dregs cast aside by Akrest clan. These were individuals who had forsaken their pride as warriors and chosen the ruthless path of assassins.

The Bloodshadow Pavilion was no longer what it had been under the original Sword Master.

Now, it was filled with assassins who had abandoned even the techniques of the Akrest clan.

This was the Second Bloodshadow Pavilion.

Of course, Ezekiel was well aware that the current group fell short of the glory of the original. After all, he himself was a survivor of the True Bloodshadow Pavilion.

'Had my comrades from back then been here, we could have infiltrated Mount of the Moon without issue and killed our target already.'

But there was no harm in testing the waters once.

His gaze swept over the gathered group. Excluding the ones he couldn't afford to lose, he selected one.

"Sev."

"Yes, Master."

A man with a long ponytail stepped forward. Barely twenty years old, his youth showed on his face. Ezekiel knew him well.

A weak-hearted fool.

"Ascend the mountain. Kill the target and return."

"...Understood."

"If you succeed, I'll give you a drop of Celestial Vein Elixir to cure your sister's Blocked Vein Syndrome."

Sev's eyes widened. He immediately bowed, pressing his forehead to the ground.

"You must keep your promise, Master."

"Keh heh heh, have I ever broken a promise?"

"No, I have not seen such a thing."

An intriguing lad.

His internal energy was unusual, and his resolve, forged through years of enduring hardship for his ailing sister, was unwavering.

More than anything, if it concerned his sister, this boy would do anything.

It bothered Ezekiel that this would be his first mission. But then again, what did it matter?

He was just a pawn to be discarded.

"Very well. Go. You have two weeks."

"I obey, Master."

Sev stilled his breath, calming his internal energy.

Even his killing intent and presence scattered like faint mist.

Then, using primitive movements, he began climbing the darkness of Mount of the Moon.

An assassin's job was to kill, not to flaunt martial skills.

With only the bare minimum of energy, he used the Shadow Veil Step to move.

—Swish.

His figure melted seamlessly into the shadows.

The moonless night concealed his movements perfectly.

By the Shadow's Hour, lesser gatekeepers with weak cultivation would inevitably doze off.

With nimble steps, Sev leapt over the wall.

—Ssshh.

Even the sound of his feet touching the ground dissolved into nothingness.

Though he had only trained for three years, Sev displayed a natural aptitude for the Bloodshadow Pavilion's martial arts.

His inherent cold energy harmonized perfectly with their shadowy techniques.

He emptied his mind, moving like a piece of ice drifting on water.

Following the principles of his internal energy cultivation, he channeled his energy from his core. His body temperature dropped, and his presence became nearly undetectable.

With deliberate slowness, he ascended the mountain using the Shadow Veil Step in silence.

He had two weeks. There was no need to rush and risk failure.

With the Breathless Sustenance Technique, he could survive for half a month without food. Morning dew would suffice for water.

Patience was the key. He would wait for the perfect moment.

Finally, he reached the annex where guests were staying.

The once-bustling training grounds, lively in the afternoon, were now deathly still.

Only a small girl sat alone on a tree stump. Your journey continues at empire

'...Small build. Frail body. Long sword. White robes.'

Her description was unmistakable.

Even without considering anything else, there was only one woman on Mount of the Moon.

Sev held his breath and scanned the surroundings.

There were still faint signs of life nearby.

He had two weeks. The perfect moment would come.

When the people of Mount of the Moon dispersed, and even the young monks stopped moving...

That moment of absolute stillness would be his time to strike.

A Day in Iron Fist Sect

Life in Iron Fist Sect wasn't much different from Mount Suncrest.

The monks woke at dawn, offering their prayers to the Buddha before eating breakfast. Mornings and afternoons were spent training endlessly, interrupted only by lunch. The evenings were lighter, with some time to unwind before dinner.

For outsiders like Vera and Ethan, there was no need to adhere to such a rigid schedule. No one woke them in the mornings or insisted they join the monks' routine.

Despite this freedom, Vera rose early every day, fetching water for Marcus without fail. In contrast, Ethan was a habitual late sleeper, staying in bed until lunch before wandering the grounds of Mount of the Moon until sunset. Then, he would spar enthusiastically with the monks in the training yard.

Nathaniel rarely interfered with the sparring, unless Arther participated. For reasons no one dared question, Arther was strictly prohibited from engaging in duels. Neither Vera nor Ethan felt the need to pry into the matter.

Tonight was another such peaceful night.

"You're still out here?"

"Oh, Ethan Senior Brother, why haven't you gone to rest?"

"Is Marcus Senior Brother the only one allowed to be your senior? I'm your senior too, you know. Seeing you like this makes me worried."

With a playful tone, Ethan plopped down next to Vera.

Although only a year older than Vera, Ethan was already fifteen and had a palm's height advantage over him.

"I'm here because Marcus Senior Brother is inside," Vera replied.

"What, are you worried someone might try to kill him again? You're always so tense."

"...It's not impossible," Vera muttered.

Perhaps it was the shared dangers they had faced or just the time spent together, but Ethan could sense how Vera's speech toward him had softened. At first, it had been rigidly formal, almost cutting. Now, it was gentler.

"Well, then, I'll protect Marcus Senior Brother tonight," Ethan declared, leaping to his feet dramatically. He drew his sword with a flourish.

"...You, Senior Brother?"

"Why do I feel like you're mocking me?"

"That's not my intention, but…"

Ethan chuckled, sheathing his sword and pulling out a fan from his robe. He began fanning Vera with exaggerated care.

"You don't have to, Senior Brother. You must be tired."

"And you're not? You're drenched in cold sweat."

Vera blinked. He hadn't expected Ethan to notice such a detail.

"I was monitoring the surroundings for any signs of danger," Vera admitted.

"So you're really standing guard in case an assassin comes again?"

"They failed once. Another attempt is inevitable."

Ethan tilted his head. "If they want revenge, they'd target you, not Marcus Senior Brother."

"If I were the assassin, I'd take Marcus Senior Brother hostage."

"Ah, true. You're pretty clever…"

Vera sat upright, scanning his surroundings again. Still, he sensed nothing.

But he didn't trust his instincts entirely. After all, when a Bloodshadow Pavilion assassin had attacked before, he hadn't noticed until it was too late.

"What's with all these stones at your feet?" Ethan asked.

"Watch closely, Senior Brother. They serve a purpose."

With a subtle application of internal energy, Vera nudged one of the stones with his foot.

—Whoosh!

The pebble shot into the nearby bushes. Silence followed.

Vera repeated the process several times, sending stones in various directions until he exhaled in relief.

"You're really…."

"No assassin would hide in a place where they could be so easily discovered."

"You're thorough, I'll give you that. Oh, right. Are you coming down the mountain tomorrow?"

"Why do you ask, Senior Brother?"

Ethan blinked, then sighed. "The others and I are heading to the base of Mount of the Moon tomorrow."

"Have a safe trip, Senior Brother. I'll stay here."

At fifteen, Ethan was at an age where running around and playing came naturally.

Vera shrugged as if the idea didn't interest him.

"You're really staying here?"

"Someone has to remain by Marcus Senior Brother's side."

"Doesn't Nathaniel take good care of him?"

"Even so, it's good to have someone nearby for convenience."

Ethan mulled it over before nodding. "Alright. Though Marcus Senior Brother has been walking around more these days."

"Still… I worry."

Ethan understood. After all, Marcus had thrown himself into danger and been gravely injured for Vera's sake. That kind of debt wasn't easy to forget.

"I'll bring back some snacks for you and Marcus Senior Brother on the way," he said, standing up.

"Good night, Senior Brother."

"Yeah, sleep well."

And with that, Ethan left.

Near the annex where Marcus lay resting, the night grew silent.

As everyone went to bed early, eagerly anticipating tomorrow's outing, the quiet assassin known as Sev unsheathed his soot-darkened blade from the bushes.