Uncle Sword's flute melody had ceased long ago, but its lingering echoes seemed to still resound over the river's surface. The slash from Tran Kien that had cleaved a deep trench upon the water had also closed, but the shock it left in the hearts of Trinh Cong and Lam Vy remained. They looked at Tran Kien with completely different eyes. It was no longer the gaze meant for a benefactor or a protector, but a gaze meant for a rising star.
The small skiff glided forward for another day. The river began to widen, the current flowing more swiftly. On both banks, the desolate wilderness was replaced by prosperous fishing villages and boundless mulberry fields. The number of passing vessels also grew increasingly bustling. They could see massive merchant ships flying the banners of trading consortiums, small fishing boats of local fishermen, and magnificent, exquisitely decorated pavilion-ships of noble clans.
As dusk fell once more, dyeing a corner of the western sky in a brilliant orange-red, a massive citadel, towering and majestic, finally appeared ahead.
Compared to Thanh Chau City, this citadel was many times larger and more magnificent. The city walls towered like a man-made mountain range, constructed from polished black boulders that reflected a cold, impenetrable light under the setting sun. Atop the walls, war banners fluttered, blotting out the sky. Squads of soldiers in gleaming armor patrolled ceaselessly with long halberds in hand, their imposing auras surging to the heavens.
This was Kinh Chau, one of the most vital strongholds in the west of Dai Viet, the final gateway before entering the historic lands of Lam Kinh.
The boat did not approach the main city gates; instead, it turned into a minor tributary, heading toward a private dock located in a more secluded area. Though this port was not large, the vessels moving in and out were all swift, agile warships manned by armored soldiers bearing the insignia of the Duke of Dinh Quoc's Estate.
"We have arrived," Uncle Sword said. He stood up, and his aura underwent a subtle transformation. The aloof and carefree bearing of a fisherman vanished, replaced by the imposing, razor-sharp majesty of a military general.
The moment the small skiff docked, a general clad in silver armor was already waiting. Seeing Uncle Sword, the general immediately dropped to one knee, his voice filled with deep reverence: "Subordinate Ly Tin greets Uncle Sword! Everything has been arranged."
"Rise," Uncle Sword nodded. "What is the situation?"
"Reporting to Uncle, it is exactly as you predicted," Ly Tin stood and reported. "Marquis Vinh An's men have cast a net over all the main roads leading to Lam Kinh. They have even colluded with Black Hawk Keep, a local jianghu faction, to guard the hidden trails. It seems... our movements have been exposed."
Hearing this, Trinh Cong and Lam Vy's expressions grew tense. They hadn't expected the enemy to act so swiftly and ruthlessly.
Uncle Sword, however, did not show the slightest surprise. He merely gave a cold snort. "A pack of hounds that only know how to sniff around. Let's go; we will speak inside."
Ly Tin led the four into a discreet manor situated right near the docks. It looked ordinary from the outside, but inside, the security was incredibly tight; experts from the Duke of Dinh Quoc's Estate were stationed everywhere.
After taking their seats in a secret chamber, Ly Tin brought out a detailed military map and unrolled it on the table.
"Uncle Sword, this is the map of the region surrounding Lam Kinh. These red dots signify the locations where we have discovered the eyes and ears of Marquis Vinh An and Black Hawk Keep. They have practically sealed off the entire region. If we wish to safely escort the Young Miss to Lam Kinh, I fear it will be extremely difficult."
Trinh Cong and Lam Vy looked at the map, densely dotted with red marks, and their hearts could not help but sink.
But Tran Kien, having observed in silence, suddenly spoke up.
"It is not difficult," he said, his voice calm. "It is utterly impossible."
All eyes turned toward him. Ly Tin looked at this unfamiliar youth, a trace of doubt in his eyes.
Tran Kien did not flinch. He stepped forward and pointed at the map. "Look here," he analyzed, his train of thought clear and incisive. "These red dots are all situated at highly strategic chokepoints: crossroads, ferry crossings, narrow gorges... They are not merely for surveillance; they are meticulously calculated ambush points. The moment we step onto any of these paths, we will instantly be discovered and besieged."
He then pointed to a large blank space on the map, a desolate mountainous region devoid of red dots. "And this area might seem safe, but it is an even greater trap. This is the Hundred Beasts Mountain, renowned for its countless ferocious demonic beasts. They don't need to post guards here because they know that entering this place is akin to suicide."
"Then what are you proposing..." Uncle Sword looked at him, a gleam of interest in his eyes.
"I mean to say," Tran Kien replied, "Every path we could possibly think of has already been anticipated by the enemy. We cannot use conventional methods to cross. We must forge a new path. A path that no one could possibly foresee."
"Let's hear it," Uncle Sword encouraged.
Tran Kien looked at the map, recalling the historical and geographical knowledge he had read. He remembered a battle recorded in the Complete Annals of Dai Viet, where a general employed a bold stratagem to break through an enemy's encirclement.
He took a deep breath, then pointed at a large river on the map.
"This river is known as the No Giang. The current is turbulent, and the banks are sheer cliffs; ordinary vessels cannot pass. Precisely because of this, Marquis Vinh An would certainly not station men to guard it."
"You intend for us to take the river route?" Ly Tin frowned. "Impossible! There is a section of the No Giang called 'Dragon Gate Gorge'; the riverbed is narrow, and the whirlpools look as if they could swallow anything. Even a Foundation Establishment cultivator wouldn't dare fly over it casually, let alone navigate it by boat."
"An ordinary boat won't do," Tran Kien said, a confident light shining in his eyes. "But what if it's a raft made from the lightest wood, combined with a simple wind-propulsion formation? We don't need to fight the current. We just need to ride it. The speed of the raging water will be our best tool to break through the encirclement as swiftly as possible. Though perilous, it is our only path of survival."
The secret chamber descended into silence. Ly Tin, Trinh Cong, and even Lam Vy looked at Tran Kien in astonishment. The plan was too bold, too mad, but when pondered upon, it made absolute sense.
Uncle Sword remained silent for a long time before suddenly bursting into laughter.
"Excellent! What a brilliant 'borrowing the water to push the boat' stratagem! Tran Kien, my boy, you truly bring me one surprise after another. Very well! It is decided!"
He turned to Ly Tin. "Prepare the lightest Iron Fir wood and fetch a Formation Master. Within three days, I want a raft capable of crossing the Dragon Gate Gorge!"
"Understood!" Ly Tin accepted the order.
The plan was set. Tran Kien knew that a new trial, a battle against the ferocious forces of nature, awaited him. Yet, within his heart, there was no fear. There was only anticipation. He wanted to see if his Blade Intent — A Thousand Hammers, A Hundred Refinements — when facing the torrential currents of the No Giang, could cleave out a true path of survival.