The Cunning Treasure Hunter

Within the Central Plains Northern Branch of the Nomads' Sect, Raymond, the branch leader, sat in his office with a deep frown on his face. The three knots on the cord tied around his waist marked his rank as a Three-Knot Beggar, a mid-tier position within the sect.

He wasn't just troubled by the unexpected visit from Nathaniel Monk and Vera, but more so by the information they had just shared.

"…It seems we should be paying you for this information instead," Raymond muttered with a heavy sigh.

The Nomads' Sect, an organization specializing in intelligence, valued every bit of information. But what he'd just heard left him shaken.

"A brother and sister cast out of the Northern Ice Palace three years ago—now the brother has learned the martial arts of the Bloodshadow Pavilion and attempted an assassination at Mount of the Moon."

"You don't need to pay us for that information, Raymond Benefactor," replied Master Nathaniel calmly.

"Then, is there anything else you wish to know? Within the limits of my authority, I can share other details," Raymond offered.

An Ominous Pattern

Both Vera and Master Nathaniel had many questions.

"This young benefactor has been attacked three times already by those practicing Bloodshadow Pavilion martial arts," said Master Nathaniel.

"Three times?" Raymond's eyes widened. "How are you still alive?"

"I was lucky," Vera replied softly.

"Luck alone wouldn't suffice in such situations…"

"That's not the issue here, Raymond Benefactor. The real question is: who orchestrated these attacks?" Master Nathaniel pointed out, his voice steady.

"Those using Bloodshadow Pavilion martial arts... Hmm…" Raymond scratched his chin, deep in thought.

"Are you sure you don't know anything?" Vera asked, her gaze piercing.

It was hard to believe that Raymond, the branch leader of the Nomads' Sect, wouldn't have at least some knowledge. Even if it wasn't high-level intelligence, he would surely know something.

"…There are rumors," Raymond admitted reluctantly.

Both Vera and Master Nathaniel tilted their heads in curiosity. Rumors? It was rare for a branch leader of the Nomads' Sect to share mere "rumors," given their exceptional intelligence network.

"What kind of rumors?" Vera prompted.

Reluctantly, Raymond began to share.
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"They concern the annihilation of certain clans and sects."

"Homage to Infinite Light." Master Nathaniel tapped his wooden fish, chanting softly at the grim implications.

"It's said that figures dressed in black and using Bloodshadow Pavilion martial arts assassinated family heads or sect leaders, then proceeded to wipe out the entire household," Raymond explained.

A Grim Revelation

The mention of black attire wasn't particularly noteworthy. Many assassins wore black. But the second part—the total annihilation of families and sect members—was far more alarming.

"That's not the work of mere assassins…" Master Nathaniel murmured.

"There are a few beggars who claim to have seen them, but since the information isn't verified, we treat it as a 'rumor,'" Raymond added, visibly uneasy.

"Wait a moment, Raymond Benefactor," Master Nathaniel interrupted. "How could beggars have seen them? Assassins typically work in the shadows."

"That's exactly why we've classified it as a rumor," Raymond replied, perching on the edge of his desk with a troubled look.

He was clearly uncomfortable sharing unverified information. The Nomads' Sect prided itself on the accuracy of its intelligence, and "rumors" were not something they usually entertained.

"The reports suggest that these figures killed the family heads or sect leaders with stealth but then openly massacred everyone else in a frontal assault."

"Everyone? In a frontal assault? Homage to Infinite Light…" Master Nathaniel chanted again, exchanging a grim look with Vera.

Both seemed to have come to a realization.

"Do you two know something?" Raymond asked, sniffing out the scent of valuable information. His instincts told him that these visitors held the key to turning this rumor into confirmed intelligence.

Decisions and Disclosure

"What do you think, Vera Benefactor? Should we tell him?" Master Nathaniel asked.

After a moment of deliberation, Vera nodded. "Yes. I'll tell him."

After the Story

Having heard everything, Raymond looked immensely pleased.

"It's all clear now," he declared, nodding repeatedly. He quickly grabbed a thin brush and began jotting down notes on a sheet of paper.

"With the source of this information being a disciple of Mount Suncrest and its validation by a Iron Fist Sect Monk, this rumor can now be considered verified. There is indeed a group using Bloodshadow Pavilion martial arts to carry out assassinations."

"And they're targeting this young benefactor right here," Master Nathaniel added, his gaze resting on Vera.

Even after hearing everything, it still didn't make sense.

Why were they so fixated on her?

The Shadow of Manipulation

Vera tilted her head slightly. "I still don't understand why they're targeting me."

"The sharpest stones attract the most hammers," Master Nathaniel said softly. "Your brilliance has likely provoked someone's jealousy."

Vera shrugged, unfazed. She understood this wasn't her fault.

Raymond, observing her quietly, had already pieced together the picture. This girl was none other than Vera of Mount Suncrest.

A prodigy who, just a month after joining, had won the Peak Assembly, summoned sword energy at the age of fourteen, and defeated the Akrest Clan's Young Master in a resounding victory.

Having her indebted to him would certainly not be a bad thing.

"Finding the unnoticed and confirming the known are two different matters. Leave it to us. This time, the Nomads' Sect will move on your behalf," Raymond declared.

"What?" Vera's eyes widened in surprise. She hadn't expected them to take such proactive action.

"Is there anything else we can do for you?" Raymond asked.

"…Perhaps we may soon discover their base or gathering point."

"If you inform us, we'll monitor their movements closely."

"Thank you," Vera said, bowing deeply in gratitude. Her composed demeanor and maturity belied her young age.

Raymond, ever respectful, returned her gesture with a fist salute. "I will assign you one of my messenger birds. Whistle, and it will come to you. Attach your message to its ankle, and it will return to me."

"Thank you for your consideration," Vera replied sincerely.

The Bloodshadow Pavilion's Safehouse

Meanwhile, at a Bloodshadow Pavilion safehouse in the The Central Plains Branch, Ezekiel, the leader of the sect, sat with an irritated expression.

"So, the mission failed?"

"Yes, Master. It seems so," replied one of the assassins.

He had expected failure. Success on a first kill was almost unheard of. Only someone born under a Celestial Blade Star or blessed with extraordinary talent could achieve such a feat.

But Sev was neither.

A sheltered branch descendant of the Northern Ice Palace, his upbringing had left him unprepared for the harshness of assassination. Hesitation was inevitable, and hesitation meant failure.

A failed assassin who couldn't even end his own life? Such a liability needed to be dealt with.

"Who will take care of it?" Ezekiel asked coldly.

"Take care of… what, Master?"

"Silence Sev. What if he reveals the location of this safehouse?"

The Akrest Clan's shadow organization operated with utmost secrecy. The greatest safeguard was not their protective arrays but the simple fact that their existence was unknown. The moment such a location was exposed, it became vulnerable.

"Has Sev regained consciousness yet?"

"No, Master. He's been unconscious for two days."

"Then kill him within two days. He's physically resilient, so he'll likely wake on the fourth day."

He scanned the room, his gaze landing on his subordinates. None volunteered. It wasn't cowardice—it was calculation.

The task was nearly impossible. Sev was held in the Iron Fist Sect Temple, deep within a secluded annex and surrounded by patrolling monks. After Sev's failure, Iron Fist Sect's vigilance had been heightened, making infiltration almost impossible.

"Who will do it?" he asked again, his voice sharp.

Finally, a man in his late thirties stepped forward with a sly grin. "Master, I have a plan."

"Speak."

"Why bother infiltrating? We simply send Sev a letter. He'll crawl out on his own."

Ezekiel's lips curled into a sinister smile. "True. But only under one condition."

He gestured for paper and a brush. "Bring me two sheets. One letter will be for Sev. The other is for the caretaker of the Bright Peace Safehouse."

"Bright Peace Safehouse?" one of the assassins asked, puzzled.

With a faint smile, Ezekiel explained, "That's where his precious little sister is being held."

The Bright Peace Safehouse

Bright Peace, home to the Akrest Clan's Headquarters, was a place bustling with activity. The Bloodshadow Pavilion, however, operated discreetly in its shadows, keeping their safehouse hidden.

Elise, Sev's sister, was imprisoned there. The Bloodshadow Pavilion knew how to apply pressure. A captive sibling wasn't just a hostage—it was leverage.

"He knows," Ezekiel said, his voice dripping with malice. "He must know by now that she'll need medicine soon."

The second letter wasn't meant for Sev. It was destined for those watching over Elise, a reminder that the game had just begun.