The Cunning Treasure Hunter

Chapter 25 Blades Dancing Under the Cherry Blossoms

Time flowed quickly.

The Peak Assembly was only a day away.

For nearly a month, Vera had experienced firsthand the meaning behind Noah's words. Marcus, their eldest brother, was indeed a romanticist.

"The cherry blossoms are particularly beautiful today," said Marcus, gazing at the petals drifting on the wind.

"Pardon?"

"Come, sit here for a while. Let's spend the morning watching the flowers."

Was it because of her, or was he always like this?

Their master, Aiden, was rarely at his secluded hut. Most days, he was absent, leaving Marcus to replace training with lazing about.

"Senior brother, is this really acceptable?" asked Ethan, frowning.

"Ethan, what is it that our swords are meant to depict?"

"...cherry blossoms."

"And how can we hope to depict them properly if we don't observe them carefully?"

"You sound just like Master, senior brother."

Beside them, Noah chuckled. Marcus took it as a compliment.

"I've been trying hard to follow Master's example, after all."

"But how can you improve if you spend all your time like this?"

Despite Ethan's grumbling, Marcus only smiled.

"Wouldn't today's indulgence make tomorrow better?"

"But Noah and I aren't participating in the Peak Assembly, senior brother."

"And yet, Vera and I are," Marcus replied, turning to look at Vera.

She was seated quietly as instructed, her gaze fixed on the falling cherry blossoms. With her legs neatly folded beneath her, she cradled her sword in her arms.

A cherry tree's branches, when broken, revealed sharp ends like a concealed blade. Vera's posture mirrored this—the epitome of stillness and readiness.

"She is a cherry blossom," Marcus thought. Not just when she held her sword, but in every aspect of her life. She embodied the flower, its elegance and resolve.

"To achieve the unity of sword and self... the hallmark of a master," he mused.

Among the disciples of the Mount Suncrest Sect, Vera alone had reached such heights. Her presence exuded a striking duality—sharp like a blade, yet perfumed with the deep, bittersweet fragrance of cherry blossoms.

"Senior brother Marcus, why are you looking at me like that?"

Her soft, delicate voice pulled him from his thoughts. He smiled warmly.

"I was just wondering when I might become like you."

The candid admission startled Noah and Ethan. He was the eldest of the three great disciples, yet he openly acknowledged that his skill fell short of the youngest, Vera.

"...You will surpass me," she said with conviction.

Marcus blinked. Her tone carried certainty, as though she had glimpsed the future.

"Senior brother, you will not only reach where I stand but climb to heights far beyond," she continued, her dark eyes steady.

It wasn't flattery. Her gaze felt like it pierced through his past, observed his present, and glimpsed his future.

"...Thank you."

"...You're worried about yourself?" Ethan asked, his eyes widening in surprise.

With a faint chuckle, Marcus nodded.

"Vera could easily defeat Jace and Dylan, even if they've learned the Nine-Cherry Blossom Sword. But me...?"

Did he have the depth of understanding in the Elegant cherry Sword to stand against it? Could he, who had only followed the forms, truly shatter a technique hailed as the pinnacle of the Mount Suncrest Sect?

He wasn't sure.

He looked down at the sword in his hands.

There was an old saying: one should not wield a blade forged without the sweat and fire of dedication. Had his efforts been enough to earn the blade he now held?

A soft voice broke his thoughts.

"Senior brother, you won't lose," said Vera, standing behind him.

"Even if they've learned the Nine-Cherry Blossom Sword?"

"Yes," she replied without hesitation.

Turning to face her, Marcus saw her standing amid the drifting cherry blossoms, her calm gaze fixed on him.

In her eyes, he saw the will and determination that burned within him.

Forced desperation collapses before an immovable mountain, but not Marcus. Despite countless defeats at her hands, he had risen each time, embraced his limits, and sought guidance—even from someone far younger and smaller than himself.

His resolve was not born of external pressures but of a personal desire to attain something greater.

"An imitation of a true technique will never defeat you, senior brother," Vera said confidently.

"...Do you truly believe that?"

"I do."

Marcus paused, then asked the question that lingered in his mind.

"Have you seen the Nine-Cherry Blossom Sword before?"

"I have," she answered.

"Have you learned it?"

"...I have."

The Nine-Cherry Blossom Sword was a closely guarded secret of the Mount Suncrest Sect, forbidden from being taught to its subsidiary branches. Yet Vera's father, the Black Cherry Swordmaster, had been a man of relentless determination.

He had observed countless matches, imprinted the forms in his mind, and eventually pieced them together. While it lacked the full incantations of the original, the forms were complete.

"...I won't ask how you learned it. I imagine even our master knows by now," said Marcus.

"I merely learned the forms. It's an imitation, nothing more."

But Vera had inherited something far older and more profound—techniques rooted in the Cherry Blossom Falling Technique, an art surpassing even the Nine-Cherry Blossom Sword.

Unlike her father, who had devised clever methods to learn the incomplete sword forms, Vera had mastered them entirely. She knew with certainty that no mere imitation, no matter how refined, could overcome Marcus's unwavering resolve.

"A dance without spirit and intention holds no meaning. Martial arts are no different," she said softly.

"...I see," Marcus murmured.

He turned away from her and toward Ethan, who had just finished stretching.

With a soft rasp, his blade slid free from its sheath.

"Let's meet in the finals, Vera."