The sea, dyed in the colors of dusk, was preternaturally tranquil. This silence was even heavier than the roaring tempest from before. Over a thousand pirates, the most ferocious wolves of the sea, were still kneeling on one knee upon the decks, bowing their heads before the silhouette of a youth. Their former overlord was dead, and according to the ironclad rules of the sea, the strong would become the new king.
"PAYING RESPECTS TO THE NEW KING!!!"
The resonant, unified shout still echoed somewhere amidst the crashing waves.
Tran Kien stood upon the deck of the largest warship, his hand still gripping the matte-black saber. He showed no signs of the smugness or joy typical of one who had just acquired towering authority. In his heart, there was only a complex swirl of emotions and a burden that had suddenly descended upon him.
He had merely wanted to reclaim the legacy and walk his own path. But destiny seemed fond of playing tricks, time and time again pushing him into the center of vortexes he could never have anticipated. The burden of the Lac Viet inheritor, the responsibility to the young miss of Duke Dingguo's Estate, and now, the throne as the New King of Flood Dragon Island.
Old Kinh staggered onto the warship, standing beside him. He looked at the kneeling pirates, then at Tran Kien, his single eye unable to conceal his anxiety. "Lord... this..."
Tran Kien gave a faint nod, signaling for the old man to be at ease. He knew that refusing at this moment was not a wise choice. These pirates were like a pack of starving wolves that had lost their alpha; without a new king strong enough to suppress them, they would instantly tear each other apart, turning this entire sea into a purgatory.
Furthermore, he realized that this was not merely a burden, but a stroke of serendipity. A serendipity that could help him execute far grander schemes in the future.
He took a deep breath of the briny sea air. He did not look at the pirates. His gaze fell upon the corpse of the Black Flood Dragon King.
"Rise, all of you," he spoke, his voice not loud, yet carrying an undeniable majesty that transmitted clearly into the ears of every single person.
The pirates slowly stood up, yet still dared not raise their heads.
"The Black Flood Dragon King," Tran Kien said, "though an enemy, was a true man who dared to act and dared to bear the consequences. He lost, and he used his death to preserve his honor. He is worthy of respect."
"Men," he ordered, "prepare the most solemn burial at sea for the former Island Master. Fetch the finest jugs of wine and the best beast skins. Our Flood Dragon Island does not mistreat the deceased."
The very first command of the new king was not to divide the spoils of war, nor was it a display of dominance. It was to arrange a burial for the very enemy he had just slain.
This action caused all the pirates, even those Vice Island Masters harboring their own ulterior motives, to freeze in astonishment. In their eyes, alongside their fear, a glimmer of reverence had appeared. This New King seemingly possessed an entirely different bearing and magnanimity.
After the sea burial was concluded, Tran Kien said nothing more. He issued only a second command.
"Weigh anchor. Return to Flood Dragon Island."
The return journey lasted three days. During these three days, Tran Kien did not rest for a single moment. He summoned all the Vice Island Masters and the most prominent captains onto the main warship—not for a banquet, but for an interrogation.
He inquired about the structure of Flood Dragon Island, its population, its sources of income, its internal conflicts, and its surrounding enemies. He listened more than he spoke. His profound eyes seemed capable of seeing straight through the human heart. Those who initially harbored intentions to lie, upon meeting that gaze, unconsciously found themselves blurting out the truth.
He quickly grasped that Flood Dragon Island, though mighty, was in reality just a loose alliance of various pirate gangs, suppressed by the Black Flood Dragon King's absolute martial prowess. Among the Vice Island Masters, there was constant infighting and friction. Their primary source of income came from plundering merchant vessels, committing countless atrocities. It was a multi-headed monster—powerful, yet incredibly chaotic.
On the fourth day, when Flood Dragon Island—an impregnable island constructed like a fortress upon the sea—appeared in the distance, Tran Kien finally gathered everyone upon the deck.
"I know," he projected his voice, "that you follow me because you fear my strength. You think that I will be just like the Black Flood Dragon King, using martial force to rule and to revel in luxury."
"But you are mistaken."
"From today onward," he declared, his voice as resounding as striking iron. "Flood Dragon Island shall have new rules. My rules."
"Rule number one: It is absolutely forbidden to attack and plunder the merchant vessels and fishing villages of the Great Viet people. Any who violate this shall be killed without mercy!"
These words exploded like a bomb amidst the crowd. No plundering? Then how were they, as pirates, supposed to survive?
"Silence!" Tran Kien let out a low, thunderous roar. The Primordial Chaos Qi of his peak late Foundation Establishment stage erupted; the terrifying coercive pressure instantly silenced all the whispering and murmuring.
"I said we will not rob the poor commoners; I did not say there is nothing to rob," he sneered coldly. "This sea is vast; is there a shortage of other vicious pirate gangs? Is there a shortage of smuggling vessels belonging to corrupt and avaricious officials? We shall no longer be mere pirates. We shall be the overlords of the sea. We will rob the wicked and punish the treacherous. You will still have wine to drink, meat to eat, and wealth to divide among yourselves. But it will be clean wealth, unstained by the blood of the innocent."
"Rule number two: All seized spoils of war must be centralized and managed by Old Kinh here," he pointed to the one-eyed old man standing beside him. "Seven parts shall be used to rebuild Flood Dragon Island, forge weapons, and train soldiers. The remaining three parts shall be divided equally among everyone based on merit, regardless of rank."
"And the final rule," Tran Kien's gaze became as sharp as a blade. "I shall establish an elite army, to be named the 'Sea Dragon Guard'. I will personally train them. Anyone, so long as they possess sufficient capability and absolute loyalty, may join. The Sea Dragon Guard shall be our core force, the sharpest saber of Flood Dragon Island."
Three new rules. A complete reformation. It struck directly at the interests and deeply ingrained habits of this pirate horde.
"On what basis?!" a burly Vice Island Master with a thick, curled beard could no longer hold back and roared. "We are accustomed to being free and unfettered! On what basis must we submit to the arrangements of a wet-behind-the-ears brat like you?!"
This was the first act of defiance. Everyone held their breath, watching to see how the New King would handle it.
Tran Kien did not get angry in the slightest. He merely looked quietly at the bearded man.
"What is your name?"
"Your father is Man Nguu!"
"Very well, Man Nguu," Tran Kien nodded. "You speak quite reasonably. Here, rules are determined by fists. I will give you an opportunity."
He drew his matte-black saber and plunged it straight into the wooden deck. "You and I shall fight a match. If you can force me to pull this saber from the wood, I will retract these rules and return Flood Dragon Island to you all. But if you cannot..."
"Then I'll take your dog life!" Man Nguu roared. His early Foundation Establishment stage cultivation erupted as he charged toward Tran Kien. He did not use a weapon. He used his bare hands, executing an incredibly domineering fist art.
Yet, facing him, Tran Kien did not move an inch.
He merely raised a single finger.
At the tip of that finger, a tiny sliver of silver lightning danced.
Using that very finger, he tapped lightly forward.
An incredibly simple technique. Yet, it harbored an unimaginable speed and precision.
Thwip.
Tran Kien's finger accurately struck an acupoint on Man Nguu's shoulder. The entirety of the Vice Island Master's domineering fist momentum instantly disintegrated. His entire right arm immediately went limp and numb, bereft of a single ounce of strength.
He froze, standing petrified in place.
Tran Kien did not stop. His figure moved like a phantom, gliding past Man Nguu. His five fingers struck out in rapid succession, accurately hitting five major acupoints on the man's body.
Thud.
Man Nguu, a Foundation Establishment giant, collapsed heavily onto the deck without a sound. His entire body convulsed, completely paralyzed, leaving only his bulging eyes overflowing with absolute terror.
Tran Kien retracted his hand and turned around, facing the entire fleet.
"Who else," he spoke out. His voice was not loud, yet it weighed down like a massive glacier upon the soul of every single pirate.
"Does anyone else have any objections?"
The entire sea plunged into a dead, suffocating silence.