The Cunning Treasure Hunter

Chapter 129 The Forbidden Path

Great Master Thorne could feel his life force slowly fading away. It was as if death itself was creeping closer.

Gradually, the immense power that once filled his muscles and bones was dissipating, like a dying ember growing cold and lifeless. His frail body, once brimming with internal strength, was now nothing more than that of an ordinary old man.

But he had no regrets. Even as acupuncture needles pierced his entire body, even as his trembling hand rested on Vera's small back... He could feel the warmth returning to her frail, delicate frame.

The more his internal energy dissolved and transformed into innate true energy, the more it flowed into her, reviving her weakened body. In this small and fragile child, the flames of life were reigniting.

And that was enough.

"...This is madness."

Immortal Pharmacist couldn't even ask if Great Master Thorne was okay. He couldn't afford to lose focus in the middle of such a delicate process.

This was a forbidden technique—one that transferred not only internal energy but also innate true energy to another. A single misstep in breathing could ruin everything.

Watching from the sidelines, Jordan felt the same sense of unease. Even though he wasn't directly observing the process, he could feel it. The once-dominant presence of Great Master Thorne was steadily waning.

Although his aging body had not been entirely sustained by internal energy alone, it was undeniable— His overwhelming and powerful aura was no longer there.

Now, he was nothing more than a wise and knowledgeable old man.

His vast knowledge, wisdom, and enlightenment were still invaluable. But Great Master Thorne had not gained the world's respect and reverence merely for his intellect and character.

It was his unparalleled martial prowess—the kind that rivaled the mightiest warriors, second only to the legendary Sword Master. That supreme martial strength was the source of his dominance.

But now, it was gone.

From this moment forward, Great Master Thorne was merely an aged scholar filled with insights and understanding.

At the Everstone Clan's main gate, Aiden stood, fully prepared to depart.

Aria gazed up at him silently, while behind her stood Vivian, the grand matriarch of the Everstone Clan.

Their leader, Edwin, was bedridden. So was Caleb, the guardian warrior.

Meanwhile, the Celestial Sword Sect had dispatched its people.

Now, the only matter left to settle was Mount Suncrest Sect.

"Are you truly leaving?"

Aria bit her lip as she asked.

Aiden nodded.

"Great Master Thorne must have his own reasons. I will return to Mount Suncrest Sect."

"But Vera is your disciple, Aiden."

"I know that. But I do not believe that Great Master would harm my disciple."

He looked down at Aria calmly. She, too, knew this deep down.

However, something about Great Master Thorne unsettled her. She had a gut feeling—that he would stop at nothing to achieve his goal.

"...What do you think he's planning?"

"How should I know?"

"Vera used up all of her innate true energy. There is nothing left but death. No matter how skilled Immortal Pharmacist may be, this..."

Her worry was evident.

Aiden understood her concerns well. His Great Master had always been extreme. Especially when it came to exceptional young talents.

Thinking back, it was Great Master Thorne who had persuaded the sect leader to bring Vera, the "Celestial Blade Star," into Mount Suncrest Sect.

It was also Great Master Thorne who personally arranged an official match to wrest Dylan and Jace from Aetheris.

"...Didn't Immortal Pharmacist also mend Jordan's shattered core?"

"But that time, they had the Great Heavenly Pill. Now, there's nothing..."

"If Great Master says to trust him, I will. The same goes for Immortal Pharmacist. If anyone can do the impossible, it's him."

That was the problem—

Vivian, who had been quietly watching behind Aria, finally spoke.

However, Magnus's gaze was no longer fixed on his disciple. Instead, he was staring at that accursed left arm.

Even a weak, untalented disciple like Aetheris could wield such power. What if he himself were to claim it?

Perhaps, he could transcend the walls of the Supreme Realm.

It had already been years since he hit the ceiling of peak-level martial arts.

If he could break past that barrier and ascend to the next level...

He would be unstoppable.

"...But not yet."

He needed to observe further.

Magnus was no fool who would recklessly seize something without knowing whether it was wings or falling leaves.

For now, Aetheris was the perfect living test subject.

After thoroughly testing everything on his disciple... Then, and only then, would he claim it for himself.

That would be the safest path.

At that moment, Magnus should have realized something.

He had already crossed the forbidden line.

He had reached a point where he could kill his own disciple without hesitation, where he would shatter the sacred bond between master and student, where Mount Suncrest Sect's strict code of conduct meant nothing to him anymore.

He should have recognized that all of this was the cursed artifact's sinister influence.

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But he failed to see it. And he had missed his chance.

Gideon had assigned him to Aetheris, believing that he would not succumb to such temptation.

Yet, in the end, Magnus had fallen victim to his own greed.

Slowly, he dragged Aetheris by the nape and tossed him into a sealed chamber.

The chamber was fortified with charms, chains, and woven ropes, tightly bound to prevent escape.

A set of purified silver acupuncture needles had been meticulously placed to protect Aetheris's vital points—his core heart, and head.

But it was uncertain how long these protective measures would last.

Who knew when the demonic energy would seep into the very symbols meant to ward it off?

And sure enough—

As soon as the door shut, a desperate voice echoed from within.

"L-leader! I was wrong...! I was wrong...! Please! Let me out! Let me out...!"

Inside the chamber, Aetheris was plagued by hallucinations.

A voice—one he could not identify.

A sinister whisper, persistently luring him toward the path of heresy.

And that voice only grew stronger in darkness.

Stronger at night.

And strongest in a sealed, pitch-black prison like this one.

But Magnus did not open the door.

No matter how much Aetheris begged and screamed about hearing voices, he ignored him.

Both Gideon and Magnus dismissed it as nothing more than a hallucination—a weakness of the mind, nothing more.

What they had failed to realize...

Was that even if it was not the Young Leader's head—

The fragmented flesh of his body still carried the power of the Demonic Cult's unholy god.