The Cunning Treasure Hunter

A sword inherently possesses a sense of aura, and martial artists are particularly sensitive to this.

That was why Sev dulled the blade of his sword. Only the very tip of the blade remained sharp, honed to perfection.

Crouching low, he carefully planted one hand on the ground to brace himself for a spring. His other hand angled the sword forward, its tip aimed precisely at the chest of the small, oblivious girl sitting beyond the bushes.

'...All for Elise.'

If it had been a rare, incurable condition like Nine Sound Vein Disorder, he might have given up.

Even if it had been an innate affliction, something she was born with, he could have accepted it.

But it wasn't.

This was a created affliction, the result of special martial arts that had deliberately sealed her meridians. The bitterly cold energy twisted her blood vessels and constricted her heart.

The only cure was a source of extreme energy—something as rare as the Eternal Flame Lotus Core, or at least a seven-leaf Seven-Leaf Mountain.

But such treasures were beyond reach, their price astronomical.

That was why Sev had joined the Akrest Clan, becoming a warrior. It was also why he stepped into the Bloodshadow Pavilion, unhesitatingly choosing a darker path for the promise of greater rewards.

He had resolved himself to kill.

Even if the target was a fragile, tiny girl.

'...I'm sorry.'

In a single breath, he summoned his internal energy, his body surging forward as his foot pushed off the ground with precision.

From the shadows of the bushes, he became a fleeting phantom—a figure blurred and indistinct.

His blade shot forward, aimed straight for the girl's chest.

The Killing Blade: Death's Wail

The final, deadly art of the Killing Blade.

A technique so ruthless that its victims would only wail in despair as ghosts after their deaths. The ultimate move of this feared style unfurled from Sev's hands.

Yet, at that exact moment, his eyes locked with hers.

A pair of eyes deep and boundless, reflecting nothing and everything at once.

They seemed to pierce through his very being, unearthing every secret, every pain, every bitter memory he thought buried.

Sadness. Resentment. Desperation.

His blade remained steady, but for the briefest instant, his resolve faltered.

—CLANG!

The soot-darkened blade of his sword was deflected.

With one simple motion—a fluid draw of her blade still within its scabbard—the girl redirected Sev's killing strike.

In that instant, Sev knew something was gravely wrong.

'She shouldn't have been able to react unless she knew beforehand!'

Cold sweat trickled down his back.

How had she predicted his hiding spot? How could she deflect a fatal technique so effortlessly?

"...That spot was unnaturally quiet," the girl said, as if answering his unspoken question.

With a soft swoosh, she unsheathed her sword entirely.

It was long compared to her small stature, its blade narrow and black, glimmering faintly with an iridescent hue. Adorning the blade were constellations,the constellations of the Thirty-Eight Heavenly Stars, etched in intricate patterns.

Pointing her blade at him, her profound gaze pierced the darkness as she continued.

"Everywhere else, I heard the sounds of rabbits hopping, insects crawling, and snakes slithering. But where you hid... it was silent."

That was when Sev realized his mistake.

He had stayed too long in the same spot.

One or two days might not have been noticeable, but nearly a week?

No matter how much he suppressed his presence, animals instinctively avoided the area where he crouched.

Had he reached the pinnacle of stealth, perhaps even animals would be fooled, but Sev's Breathless Sustenance Technique was far from that level.

To deduce his location based on such an oversight?

Even though she had defeated the Akrest Clan's Young Master, this level of observation was far beyond what one would expect from a fourteen-year-old girl.

"...Impressive."

With a resigned sigh, Sev spoke for the first time.

He had no illusions about surviving this encounter.

The girl before him had slain Kieran, a sub-leader of the Bloodshadow Pavilion, cutting him down with ease. If this turned into a direct confrontation, he had no chance.

But if he was going to die, he would gamble everything on his final strike—even if it meant his death was a foregone conclusion.

"Stop. If you go any further, I will cut you down," she warned, her voice low and steady.

But Sev paid her no heed.

He had reasons to risk his life—reasons he couldn't abandon, even in the face of certain death.

"I must kill you."

"...Why?" she asked.

Through the mask covering his face, Vera saw the conflict in his eyes.

Even as his blade moved toward her, hesitation clouded his gaze.

His blade did not waver.

But his heart did.

A Clash of Frozen Fates

Wherever the blade is aimed, its intent inevitably becomes known.

The man before her had his reasons—perhaps valid, perhaps not. But whatever the reason, it wasn't enough for Vera to ignore the fact that he had come to kill her.

Still, Vera wasn't an unfeeling girl, incapable of listening to another's story. This man hadn't yet lost everything. He wasn't yet a target of her vengeance.

"What could you possibly do, even if I tell you?" she asked coldly.

"I can't say until I know the truth," the man replied, his voice steady despite the tension in the air.

"...Raised as the cherished prodigy of the Bloomspire Sect, could you even begin to understand?" Vera's tone was sharp, though her words were spoken with a calmness that belied their sting.

She sighed, lowering her blade but not her guard. Her gaze bore into the man as she spoke.

"...My father was beheaded before my very eyes," she began.

The tip of the man's sword trembled.
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"My mother was burned alive."

Her words struck him like a blow. His gaze faltered, and his blade, once aimed so fiercely at her, wavered.

But Vera didn't stop.

"Since that day, I've dreamed of it every night. I know it is a Heart Demon, but I cannot let it go. It is the only way I can remember them."

"...But—"

"—You hesitated," she interrupted. "So I'll ask you: why must you kill me?"

The Assassin's Hesitation

He had hesitated. It was true.

Even as he watched from the bushes for days, even as he prepared his strike, something had held him back.

The image of her overlapped with someone else.

Three years ago, his sister had been fourteen—the same age as this girl—when she had fallen gravely ill. She had been cast aside, her once-vibrant and healthy demeanor replaced by frailty.

Even now, in this moment, her image haunted him.

But his sister's condition—her Blocked Vein Syndrome—was beyond cure, even with Celestial Vein Elixir.

"There's nothing you can do," he said, his voice trembling with a mix of despair and resolve.

The sword in his hand began to freeze. The soot that coated the blade cracked and flaked away, revealing a frosty sheen beneath. Each breath he exhaled came out as a cloud of white mist.

No longer merely Sev, the man revealed his true identity: Sev, a cast-off branch of the Northern Ice Palace and the forgotten kin of its palace lord.

Breaking his vow never to use his original martial arts, he channeled his inner energy.

Snowy Heaven Ice Art.

A wave of icy energy surged through the blade, chilling the surrounding air. Though he was only at the entry stage of mastery, the frosty aura enveloped his sword with a dim, ominous glow.

"If I kill you, I can save my sister."

Frost formed on the mask covering his face, cracking and falling away. The intense cold radiating from his body made his intentions clear—this was his final strike.

He knew he wouldn't survive, but survival was never his goal. Killing this girl would secure a single drop of Celestial Vein Elixir for his sister, granting her another six months of life.

The Radiance of the Falling Blossom Sword

"I've heard of the Northern Ice Palace and its techniques," Vera said, her tone unflinching as she raised her blade—the Falling Blossom Sword.

The constellations etched into the blade, representing the constellations of the Thirty-Eight Heavenly Stars, began to shimmer. As her inner energy flowed into the sword, the dark blade erupted with dazzling light, its brilliance cutting through the cold night.

The frigid aura of the Snowy Heaven Ice Art—representing eternal stasis, the freezing of all things into an unchanging, unyielding form—clashed with the radiant brilliance of the Falling Blossom Sword.

Yet, to her, his frozen might was no more than a fleeting shadow against her blade.

Her eyes gleamed in the darkness, reflecting the light of the North Star's Breaking Light as her internal energy surged. Her flowing black hair shimmered with the power coursing through her veins.

She knew the assassin's code—failure would mean his own death.

To capture him, she would have to knock him unconscious in a single move, leaving him no opportunity for resistance. She needed answers. Why had he come for her? Who had sent him?

"This," the man muttered, "is a true sword aura…"

"You say I can do nothing, but I have many questions to ask you," Vera replied, pointing her blade directly at him. Though her aura was overwhelming, it carried no killing intent.

Even so, Sev felt a crushing pressure as her presence bore down on him.

Unyielding Snow Cherry Branch

"Unyielding Snow Cherry Branch," she whispered, initiating the second form of the Nine Heavens cherry Blossom Sword.

The radiant sword light pierced through the icy storm. Her blade moved with the elegance of a cherry branch enduring the harshest blizzard.

The frigid air parted as the Falling Blossom Sword sliced forward, its radiance cutting through the night like a meteor.

In an instant, the clash of blades rang out. The dim glow of Sev's frosty sword was shattered along with the blade itself, scattering into countless fragments.

"...How?" he gasped.

Before he could comprehend what had happened, her sword shifted, executing the first form of the cherry Blossom Sword: Blossoming Spring.

Her blade rose in a graceful arc, striking his chin with the flat of the blade.

THWACK!

The resounding impact echoed as if the sword had struck a bell.

Sev's body lifted off the ground before he collapsed unconscious, his form crumpling like a puppet with its strings cut.

The fight was over.