The Cunning Treasure Hunter-Chapter 152: Shadows Beneath the Silent Sun

Other disciples or descendants of different sects were of no concern. However, a few among them remained in memory.

For example, those who brought glory to Suncrest five years ago. Among the most promising young talents of their generation, he was hailed as the strongest, surpassing even the geniuses of Celestial Sword Sect and the Iron Fist Sect.

Today marked the end of Kael's secluded training. Gideon recalled this fact.

"...It's the day when a strange one comes out."

"A strange one?"

The Young Sect Leader narrowed his eyes and leaned against the railing, gazing toward the distant Blooming Peak Pavilion.

"Yeah. His personality is odd, his way of speaking is weird… but his swordsmanship is undeniable."

"That makes me quite curious."

"You're not planning to rush over and start a swordfight, are you?"

Upon seeing Gideon's anxious gaze, the Young Sect Leader suddenly burst into laughter—so much so that Gideon's expression twisted with displeasure.

"…Why are you laughing like that?"

"You know, you have a habit of underestimating me."

The Young Sect Leader slowly rose from the railing. A pitch-black aura seeped from his entire being, so intense that even in the darkness of the night, it was clearly visible. It was an absolute darkness, consuming even the moonlight.

A void so complete that any mortal mind would go mad from its presence.

"Listen, Sect Leader. I am the Young Sect Leader of Suncrest. I'm not some foolish, reckless monkey that jumps around wildly."

"…I know that."

"If you knew, you wouldn't speak like that. You should be grateful for my boundless generosity. Maybe it's because you have that disciple's face, but you seem terribly out of place."

The Young Sect Leader slowly placed his hand on the hilt of his Cherry Blossom Sword.

At that moment, Gideon realized it.

There was no guarantee of victory against this man.

Even when he had only one arm, Gideon never believed he could defeat him easily.

But now… his legs. His legs were the problem.

'…Just how much strength has he regained?'

He was controlling that vast, abyssal demonic energy so precisely that it did not leak even a speck beyond his body.

It was as if he had wrapped his entire being in sword energy.

A level of technique so refined that it was terrifying.

"…Not amusing."

But he could not allow himself to be belittled.

Gideon narrowed his eyes and responded coldly.

The Young Sect Leader smirked, then withdrew his hand from the sword's hilt.

He turned his gaze toward Blooming Peak Pavilion and spoke.

"I wasn't trying to be amusing."

"It seems you are underestimating me as well."

"And what makes you say that?"

"…This is Suncrest. I am the Sect Leader of Suncrest."

The Young Sect Leader's lips curled into a smirk once again.

At that moment, Gideon felt it again—the unease that had stolen his sleep.

A profound, distant dread.

The sense that something was slipping through his grasp…

"Why are you smiling like that?"

"Because I feel like it."

Yet in the end, Gideon never found out why.

Why the Young Sect Leader laughed. What he was thinking. And… what was happening in Suncrest.

Blooming Peak Pavilion, Second Floor.

Beyond the open window, Vera gazed at the moon.

He knew that he had been sent inside to rest, yet how could he sleep?

How many among those who had led Suncrest were mere pawns of the Demonic Cult ?

How many 'true' members of Suncrest remained?

Among the Third Generation Disciples, how many…?

"Haa…"

The more he thought, the heavier his sighs became.

He knew there was no answer. He had already confessed this very thought to his master.

But the human heart is not so easily swayed by reason. Even when the mind understands, the heart struggles to let go.

If things unfolded as predicted, Suncrest would have to be burned to the ground and rebuilt from its ashes.

…To be honest, Suncrest had done nothing when Bloomspire Sect was annihilated.

Not a single emissary was sent to help when his family fell, when he was sold off as a servant.

One could argue that it wouldn't matter if such a sect crumbled and burned.

But… he had grown too attached.

To Aiden, Marcus, Jace, Dylan, Ethan, Noah.

To Damien, the Grand Elder he rarely saw but deeply respected.

And most of all, to Great Master Thorne, his master who had given him everything.

"…Is there really no other way?"

As Vera murmured, a rustling sound came from behind him.

It was Dylan.

With her wide, curious eyes, she silently watched Vera, who sat on the windowsill.

As Vera slowly turned his head, his gaze met Dylan's.

"Sister, why aren't you asleep…?"

"No, I was sleeping. Until… you started radiating sword energy and lighting up the training ground like a beacon."

With a shrug, Dylan eventually sat up.

Vera let out a bitter smile and nodded.

It seemed that he had woken up when the lights of Blooming Peak Pavilion began to turn on one by one. He still hadn't managed to fall asleep.

"You should get some rest."

"Look who's talking. What about you? What were you brooding over outside? And who did you fight this time before coming back here to sigh like that?"

"The details... Master will probably explain them tomorrow..."

"That's not what I mean. I want to hear your story."

Dylan threw off her blanket and, still in her nightwear, scooted closer.

Vera blinked in mild surprise.

It was unexpected.

Dylan was trying to bear the weight of his burdens with him. Whether she fully understood the gravity of the situation or not, she was willing to share it.

Vera met her gaze and finally spoke.

"If you hear my story, you will suffer as much as I do. Just as I am suffering now."

"They say even a thin piece of paper is easier to lift when held together. Pain, too, should be shared."

Dylan shrugged and moved even closer. Vera, instinctively uncomfortable, pulled back slightly.

It wasn't that Dylan's approach itself was burdensome. Nor was it the fact that she wanted to listen to his troubles.

What weighed on him, what truly scared him, was... the possibility that she would sink with him. That she wouldn't be able to ignore it, nor solve it, but instead, be swallowed whole by his struggles.

"I don't believe in that saying. It only makes two people suffer instead of one."

"...Anyway!"

Even as he rejected her, Dylan continued to stare at him, her gaze sharp. Then, with a deep sigh, she spoke again.

"Why do you always try to shoulder everything alone?"

"I didn't. I already told Master."

"And I'm not allowed to know?"

Vera hesitated for a moment before shaking his head firmly.

Dylan pouted, disappointment clear in her expression.

Even then, Vera simply shrugged.

"Sister."

"What? What now? You won't tell me anything anyway."

"If it's something you truly need to know, Master will tell you."

After some thought, Vera reached out and took Dylan's hand.

Her eyes widened in surprise.

"Trust me. If it's something you must know, I will tell you."

"...Fine. Fine."

Dylan quickly pulled her hand away, exhaling deeply. Then, without warning, she pulled Vera into a tight hug.

Vera, though startled, simply patted her back.

"You really do try to bear everything on your own."

"Do I?"

"Yeah. You do. You could at least share some of the burden with your senior and fellow disciples."

Vera let out a small sigh and relaxed in her embrace.

It would be nice if he could.

But some things were better left unknown.

If this were just about his personal revenge, he wouldn't have hesitated to share. But it was no longer a matter of simple vengeance.

No, from the beginning, it never had been.

His enemy wasn't just some common criminal. His enemy was the architect of the current system, the one who ruled above all.

If a man wished to kill a king, it was no longer called revenge.

It was called treason.

And if one sought to kill the LEADER OF THE MARTIAL UNITY...

How was that any different?

"It's just a personal matter. Thinking too much about it will only lead to dark thoughts."

"...Is that so?"

"It is."

And so, Vera told Dylan a lie.

The truth was the opposite.

It was precisely because it wasn't just a personal matter that he couldn't tell her.

After all...

He was preparing for a bloodbath.

Jace and Dylan knew the truth of their past.

They had never aspired to become martial artists. They had only learned how to wield a sword to make a living. They had talent, so they were dragged into this world.

If he told them his true intentions, they would be caught up in it.

They would be forced into a battle they never wanted, locked into a war they never chose.

Vera knew that even if Jace and Dylan decided to leave Suncrest today, he wouldn't blame them.

There was no longer a master forcing them to learn martial arts.

No one was torturing them every month, trying to extract talent from where there was none.