BOOM!!!
An earth-shattering explosion echoed throughout the gorge, drowning out even the furious roaring of the No Giang. The Iron Fir raft—their sole beacon of hope, a masterpiece of intellect and painstaking effort—exploded into countless splinters beneath the very blade of its creator.
Five silhouettes were blasted into the air by the violent shockwave, tossed like autumn leaves in a tempest, before plummeting straight into the bone-chilling depths of the No Giang.
Atop the cliff, Xich Vu and his entire retinue of subordinates were utterly stupefied. The vicious smirk on Xich Vu's face froze, instantly replaced by an expression of profound bewilderment and utter disbelief. He had calculated everything. He had anticipated that they would take the river route and had meticulously laid down a perfect, inescapable net of heaven and earth. He had already prepared the script to savor the despair of his prey.
Yet, never in his wildest dreams could he have imagined that his prey would personally obliterate their sole path to survival.
"Madness! They have all gone mad!" a Black Panther Guard stammered. "Are they committing suicide?"
"No... that's not it!" Xich Vu suddenly roared, a flash of absolute terror igniting in his eyes as a sudden realization struck him. "He isn't committing suicide! He wants to..."
But it was already too late.
Down below, the whirlpools churned violently, white foam smashing against the cliff walls. The five figures had been swallowed by the ferocious torrent; in the blink of an eye, not a single trace of them remained.
"Fire! Loose the arrows!!!" Xich Vu issued a maddened command. "Shred the entire surface of this river! I refuse to believe they can survive!"
Dozens of pitch-black, poisoned bolts shrieked through the air, descending like a rain of death. They pierced into the water with rapid thwips, creating countless ripples. But it was entirely futile. The current of the No Giang was simply too torrential; anything that fell into it would be swept away in an instant.
Beneath the surface, the world was an entirely different realm. The water was freezing, pitch-black, and violently turbulent. The tearing force of the underwater whirlpools was enough to crush fine steel.
Tran Kien, at the exact moment he hit the water, did not panic in the slightest. He mobilized the very last wisps of Primordial Chaos Qi within his body—not to fight the current, but to stabilize his form and decelerate his descent. Simultaneously, he roared one final command before the waters completely engulfed him: "HOLD YOUR BREATH! DIVE DEEPER!"
Water rushed into his mouth and nose; a suffocating, freezing sensation instantly assaulted him. Yet, Tran Kien's iron-like will did not waver. Forcing his eyes open in the murky torrent, he quickly located the flailing silhouette of Lam Vy nearby. He swam toward her, his hand clamping like a vice around her wrist. With his other hand, he drew his half-shattered matte black blade and viciously stabbed it into a crevice in the riverbed, anchoring them both against the raging tide.
Lam Vy was terrified; instinct drove her to struggle, desperate to swim to the surface. But Tran Kien utilized a faint strand of Divine Sense, transmitting a single, resounding thought directly into her mind: Trust me!
He had no time to explain. He could only bank on the absolute trust they had forged. Fortunately, despite her terror, Lam Vy sensed the unyielding resolve in Tran Kien's gaze. She ceased her struggling, forcing herself to hold her breath.
Elsewhere, Uncle Sword was even calmer. The moment he submerged, he conjured a fragile vacuum sphere using his Sword Intent, enveloping Trinh Cong and Ly Tin to prevent them from drowning. However, his Sword Intent was not omnipotent. Under the terrifying hydrostatic pressure of the river, the vacuum sphere trembled violently, seemingly on the verge of shattering at any moment.
Uncle Sword's gaze pierced through the chaotic waters, locking onto Tran Kien. He saw the youth's actions. And instantly, he understood.
This brat... his intent lies neither in the heavens nor on the earth. His path to survival... lies at the very bottom!
Uncle Sword did not hesitate for a split second. Using his Sword Intent to manipulate the vacuum sphere, he did not ascend; instead, he dove even deeper, heading straight toward Tran Kien.
Seeing that Uncle Sword had grasped his intentions, Tran Kien breathed a mental sigh of relief. He pointed toward the base of the left cliff.
There, hidden beneath layers of green moss and submerged boulders, lay a pitch-black crevice. It wasn't large, barely wide enough for a single person to squeeze through. Unless one possessed an astoundingly perceptive gaze and was already at the very bottom of the riverbed, it would be absolutely impossible to discover.
This was the path of survival that Tran Kien had gambled his very life upon!
This idea had not been born from nowhere. It stemmed from the legend of the "Mountain Lord and Water Lord" he had once read. The Water Lord summoned the floods, and the Mountain Lord raised the peaks. That was the mindset of direct confrontation. However, in an obscure unofficial history, he had read a little-known variant of the tale. Legend had it that beneath the foot of Mount Tan Vien, there existed a secret subterranean waterway leading directly to the vast sea—the true escape route the Mountain Lord utilized when his strength was thoroughly exhausted.
When the waters rise, one does not necessarily have to climb higher. One can choose to dive deeper!
He had gambled that this ferocious No Giang harbored a similar path. A hidden escape route carved by nature, or perhaps by some ancient predecessor. And he had won the gamble.
He signaled to Uncle Sword. Uncle Sword understood immediately. He maneuvered the vacuum sphere, guiding Trinh Cong and Ly Tin to squeeze into the crevice first. Tran Kien then pulled Lam Vy along, following closely behind.
Inside the crevice lay a pitch-black underwater tunnel. The currents here were no longer violent, replaced by an eerie, profound stillness.
The moment all five of them were inside, Uncle Sword turned around. He looked back at the entrance of the tunnel, where poisoned bolts were still raining down into the waters. His gaze turned icy.
He raised his wooden sword.
"Sword Intent - Seal!"
An invisible yet peerlessly sharp strand of Sword Intent surged forth—not to attack, but to manipulate. That Sword Intent cleaved right into a massive boulder situated near the tunnel entrance.
BOOM!
A muffled rumble echoed underwater. The massive boulder, severed from the cliff face, slowly tumbled down, perfectly sealing the entrance to the tunnel.
Within, they were completely engulfed in darkness and absolute silence.
High above on the cliff, Xich Vu stared at the river surface, which had been shredded by hundreds of bolts. Yet, not a single corpse surfaced. The unbridled fury in his heart was gradually replaced by a terrifying, icy dread.
"Reporting!" a subordinate rushed over hastily. "Commander, we have found the corpses of a few of Marquis Vinh An's men and... a mangled piece of Trinh Cong's corpse downstream."
Xich Vu said nothing. He knew full well that those were merely fake corpses prepared by the Duke of Dinh Quoc's Estate to deceive the masses.
He stared fixedly at the raging No Giang. Survive the explosion of the raft? Survive a rain of poisoned bolts? Survive the violent torrents of the Dragon Gate Gorge? Impossible. Unless...
Unless their true path was never on the surface of the water to begin with.
Xich Vu suddenly let out a roar like a wounded beast. He had been tricked again! Led by the nose by that little brat once more!
"SEARCH! DIVE DOWN AND SEARCH FOR ME!" he issued a maddened order. "Even if you have to turn this entire riverbed upside down, you must find that secret passage!"
But the No Giang was deep and unfathomably ferocious. How could one easily locate a tiny crevice at the very bottom?
The inescapable net of heaven and earth that he had so proudly cast had, in the end, netted nothing but emptiness... and a profound humiliation that could never be washed away.