The clear, resonant chime of the temple bell, though melodious, carried the crushing weight of a thousand mountains. It seemed capable of washing away all killing intent and resentment within the main hall of the Palace of Gathered Elegance.
The towering killing intent erupting from Tran Kien, upon making contact with the benevolent, tranquil aura radiating from the old monk, involuntarily softened by several fractions. The matte-black saber raised high, primed to deliver a sure-kill cleave, froze in mid-air.
He stared in horror at the old monk draped in a golden kasaya. The old man simply stood there, grasping a wooden Zen staff, his countenance benevolent, devoid of the slightest fluctuation of spiritual energy. Yet, Tran Kien sensed a peril far greater than when he had faced Ly Thuan or Xich Vu. It was not the danger of sheer power, but the peril of a fathomless, bottomless lake. It felt as though his every action, his every thought, was completely seen through by those benevolent eyes.
The lead assassin, having just escaped certain death, paused in a momentary stupor before a glint of mad hope flashed in his eyes. Without a shred of hesitation, he abandoned his target. His figure, like a bat, darted straight toward the doors, intending to exploit the old monk's appearance to flee.
But he had severely underestimated this Chief Eunuch of the Inner Palace.
The old monk did not move. He merely let out a soft sigh.
"Amitabha. Almsgiver, you have forged a karma of sins; why do you still refuse to turn back to the shore?"
He gently raised the Zen staff in his hand and lightly tapped it against the ground.
Clang.
It was not a loud noise, yet it struck directly into the soul like the tolling of an ancient bell. The assassin, sprinting at a terrifying velocity, suddenly stiffened in mid-air, as if bound by an invisible force. His eyes bulged perfectly round, and from his seven orifices, streams of pitch-black blood simultaneously flowed. His divine soul had been shattered into pieces by this single tap.
Thud.
His corpse plummeted to the ground without a sound, concluding a lifetime of slaughter.
A single move! Slaying a mid-Foundation Establishment expert silently and tracelessly!
The entire main hall plunged into a deathly silence. Trinh Cong, who was nearly exhausted, stared blankly at the scene, a boundless awe welling up within his heart. Lam Vy, terrified, hurriedly shrank behind her grandfather's back.
Tran Kien retracted his saber, his entire body tense, circulating his Primordial Chaos Qi to its absolute limit. This old monk's strength was terrifying to the extreme!
The old monk paid no heed to the corpse at his feet. He slowly turned around, his benevolent eyes looking toward the trio. His gaze swept past Trinh Cong, swept past Lam Vy, and finally, came to rest upon Tran Kien.
"This old monk is Phap Chan, temporarily overseeing the small temple within the Imperial Palace," he said, his voice remaining gentle. "Tonight, a disturbance occurred at the Palace of Gathered Elegance, startling even the Holy Majesty. This old monk was ordered to come and investigate."
"Paying respects to Grandmaster Phap Chan," Trinh Cong hastily clasped his hands, struggling to bow despite his heavy injuries. "This old man is a retainer of Duke Dingguo's Estate, escorting the Young Lady into the palace. I never expected to encounter the assassins of Marquis Vinh An..."
"The affairs of Marquis Vinh An and Duke Dingguo are matters of the Imperial Court. They shall be jointly investigated by Tao Chinh of the Six Gates and the Three Judicial Ministries," Grandmaster Phap Chan interrupted. "But for the Young Lady, holding a body of jade and gold, to encounter peril within the solemnity of the inner palace—this is a dereliction of duty on the part of the imperial clan. From now on, the Young Lady shall temporarily relocate to this old monk's Temple of Peaceful Joy to recuperate. There, not even a single fly shall be able to slip in."
This was an offer of protection, but also a form of house arrest far stricter than before. He was acting on behalf of the Emperor, removing Lam Vy from the chessboard of the two warring factions.
Trinh Cong dared not object; he could only bow his head in gratitude.
Finally, Grandmaster Phap Chan's gaze once again fell upon Tran Kien. Those benevolent eyes seemingly pierced through flesh and bone, peering straight into the Primordial Chaos Qi, into the Dragon Veins, and into the Lac Viet legacy within the youth's body.
"As for this young almsgiver here," he spoke unhurriedly. "Bearing supreme peerless arts, possessing extraordinary cultivation at such a young age. Though the killing intent upon you is heavy, your heart harbors the righteous Qi of the Dragon Veins. Truly a bizarre and remarkable figure."
Tran Kien remained silent, his heart shaken. He saw through it!
"This imperial court is a place of power struggles, a pool of muddy water whose bottom cannot be seen," Grandmaster Phap Chan continued, his voice ethereal. "It is not a suitable place for a True Dragon like you, almsgiver. This old monk's advice consists of only six words: 'Take one step back, the sea is vast and the sky is boundless.'"
It was a warning, but also a pointer. He was tacitly stating that he would not expose the youth's identity, advising him to leave this vortex.
Right at that moment, from the corridor outside, the rapid sound of footsteps and clashing armor rang out. The Imperial Guards had finally arrived.
Tran Kien knew his moment had come.
He uttered no superfluous words. He merely clasped his hands, bowing deeply toward Grandmaster Phap Chan.
Then, while everyone, including the sole surviving assassin, was drawn by the arrival of the Imperial Guards, his figure flickered. He did not charge out the main doors. He darted toward a side window, shattering it, and like a panther of the night, leaped onto the eaves, gliding through the darkness and vanishing without a trace.
Grandmaster Phap Chan gazed in the direction he vanished, a complex glint flashing within his benevolent eyes. He had absolutely no intention of stopping him.
"Amitabha," he softly chanted a Buddhist moniker. "The wind has truly begun to rise. I wonder where this True Dragon will ultimately fly..."
After leaving the Imperial Palace, Tran Kien did not halt. Utilizing his absolute top speed, he glided across the rooftops of the capital, heading in a single direction.
The manor of Strategist Ve Nhan.
He knew that after tonight, the identity of "Tran Kien" would undoubtedly send shockwaves once more. Marquis Vinh An would become even more frenzied. Duke Dingguo's Estate and Tao Chinh would also spare no effort in searching for him. He could no longer continue using this identity.
He had to vanish. Vanish once again.
Upon returning to the manor, he packed nothing. He merely took out paper and brush, hastily writing two letters. One was addressed to Tao Chinh, stating that "Ve Nhan" felt his talents were lacking and unsuited for officialdom, requesting to resign and return to his hometown to live in seclusion. The other, written in cipher, was sent to Thiet Phu in the City of Chaos, issuing several new commands.
Having done all this, without a shred of hesitation, he changed back into ordinary clothes, erasing every trace of his presence. He took one last look at the Thang Long Imperial Capital; his eyes held no lingering attachments.
On the chessboard of the Imperial Capital, he had done all he could. He had saved Lam Vy, dealt a heavy blow to Marquis Vinh An, and forged a new equilibrium. The rest would have to be played out by the other chess masters themselves.
Now, it was time for him to return to his own path.
The path to seeking the remaining fragments of the Lac Viet legacy. And the path to building a true faction in the shadows, a power mighty enough to overturn the entire chessboard.
Tran Kien, Ve Nhan, or Faceless. He silently merged into the stream of people preparing to leave the city at the break of dawn.
Once again, he became a nameless rogue cultivator of the martial world.
But this time, his objective was no longer flight.
It was conquest.