The night in the Thang Long Imperial Capital finally passed, leaving behind a chaotic battlefield at the Six Gates, a blood-soaked Palace of Gathered Elegance, and countless violent undercurrents churning fiercely within the hearts of every faction.
Early the next morning, two earth-shattering pieces of news were simultaneously broadcasted, once again shaking the entire capital.
The first news: Vice Minister of Personnel Vuong Tung, a major criminal in the Gathering Treasures Pavilion case, had been silenced by assassins sent by Marquis Vinh An, who infiltrated the grand prison. However, the entire group of assassins, including a Foundation Establishment stage expert, had fallen into Tao Chinh's trap and were completely annihilated. Though Marquis Vinh An's Estate succeeded in silencing the witness, they had personally left behind an undeniable fox's tail.
The second news was even more heaven-shaking. The Palace of Gathered Elegance, the residence of Commandery Princess Lam Vy, had also been attacked by assassins. Trinh Cong, a retainer of Duke Dingguo's Estate, was grievously wounded, but at the moment of life and death, a mysterious youth named Tran Kien appeared, slaughtering nearly all the assassins with a single blade. Ultimately, the Chief Eunuch of the Inner Palace, Grandmaster Phap Chan, personally stepped forward, suppressing the leader with Buddhist dharma and taking the Commandery Princess to the Temple of Peaceful Joy for "protection."
The two pieces of news, linked together, painted a glaringly clear picture. Marquis Vinh An, devoid of any scruples, dared to strike even within the Imperial Palace!
The entire capital was in an uproar. The Imperial Censors continuously submitted memorials, demanding the Emperor conduct a thorough investigation. Duke Dingguo's Estate remained terrifyingly silent, but anyone could sense that a true tempest was about to descend.
And the name Tran Kien, once again, became the focal point of it all. Who was he? Where did he come from? Why did he repeatedly appear at the most crucial moments, stirring up the entire chessboard?
While the entire capital searched frantically for "Tran Kien," the man in question had already melted like a drop of water into the vast ocean, vanishing without a trace.
One day later, at a small ferry crossing over a hundred li away from the capital.
A boatman wearing a conical hat and coarse brown robes, with swarthy skin, was slowly rowing a boat downstream. He looked unremarkable, just like thousands of other boatmen on this river.
That boatman was none other than Tran Kien.
After leaving the Imperial Palace, he had not immediately left the capital. He spent the night hiding in the most complex alleyways, erasing every trace. In the early morning, he disguised himself as a completely different person, blending into the flow of refugees displaced by a fire to leisurely exit the city. The stratagem of "The Golden Cicada Sheds Its Shell" had once again been executed with flawless perfection.
He did not head north toward the City of Chaos. He knew that place would undoubtedly be monitored by Marquis Vinh An's men. Nor did he head west toward the Lam Capital.
He headed south. A direction no one could have anticipated.
The small boat drifted lazily. Tran Kien sat there, grasping the oars, but his mind wandered far away. On the chessboard of the Imperial Capital, he had done everything he could. He had saved Lam Vy, dealt a heavy blow to Marquis Vinh An, and successfully sown the seeds of suspicion, muddying the entire pool. The rest would be left for the true chess masters, Duke Dingguo and Tao Chinh, to navigate themselves.
His role as "Ve Nhan" had concluded. His role as "Tran Kien" also had to temporarily disappear. Now, he returned to his most primordial identity: a nameless rogue cultivator of the martial world.
But this time, his objective was no longer flight.
He retrieved an object from his robes.
The ancient Shamanic map. Under the sunlight, the Shamanic runes upon it seemed to emit a faint, hazy glow.
After inheriting the heart of the dragon, his connection to the Lac Viet relics had become incredibly profound. He no longer needed to go to the Lam Capital. He could sense that, across the vast lands of Great Viet, there were other places faintly resonating with the legacy within his body.
He closed his eyes, using his Divine Sense to connect with the map. Within his mind, a hazy image manifested.
A vast, expansive sea. And in the middle of that sea lay an island shrouded in eternal mist. Upon the island stood an extinct volcano, and seemingly, deep within its bowels, something was calling out to him.
He recalled the texts he had read in the Pavilion of Ten Thousand Tomes. He remembered the legend of Mai An Tiem, the tale of the watermelon. A deserted island, a fierce will to survive, and extraordinary creativity.
He also remembered the records regarding the Hung Kings, how they once sent men sailing out into the great sea, seeking new lands and new powers.
The Great Sea...
A new direction, a new objective, formed within his mind.
The Imperial Capital was a chessboard of power and schemes. The Martial World was a chessboard of strength and grudges. Then the Great Sea would be a chessboard of freedom, of exploration, and of the trials brought forth by Nature herself.
Tran Kien opened his eyes. His gaze no longer looked back toward the Imperial Capital. He looked toward the distant horizon in the south, where this river would empty into the great sea.
In his heart, the heavy burden of conspiracies was gone. In its place was a soaring heroism, an endless anticipation.
He began to row faster. The tiny boat glided across the river, carrying a seed of the Lac Viet legacy, heading toward a world vastly more expansive and mysterious.
A new chapter of his journey had truly begun.