The desolate, ancient voice of the array's guardian will faded into the mist, leaving behind an absolute silence and solemnity. The broad path forged through the sea of mist resembled an invitation, a welcoming embrace echoing from the ancient past.
Tran Kien stood at the bow of the ship, wordless. He merely bowed his head slightly, a gesture of respect for the nameless predecessor who had used their very soul to safeguard the legacy for three millennia.
"Let us proceed," he ordered, his voice steady.
The black warship no longer required the wind. A formless, gentle aura emanated from the mist, softly cradling the vessel and propelling it to glide smoothly across the placid water.
The thirty members of the Sea Dragon Guard stood upon the deck. Though they were men accustomed to blood and death, treading this sacred path, their eyes could not conceal their reverence and awe.
They glided between two towering walls of mist that reached into the azure sky. Within the fog, they could faintly discern the silhouettes of countless Mist Soul Snakes and gargantuan sea monsters. But they were no longer ferocious. They merely drifted silently in the mist, like sentinels standing at attention, bowing their heads before the true master of this sea.
After about half a sichen, the ship finally cleared the path of mist. A current of warm, fresh air, carrying the scent of wildflowers and vegetation, rushed to meet them. A colossal, emerald-green island, overflowing with vitality, revealed itself before their eyes.
Flame Mountain.
It was even more majestic and beautiful than Tran Kien remembered. Expanses of fine white sand stretched out, dotted with towering coconut palms. The seawater here was crystal clear, revealing multi-colored coral reefs and schools of fish swimming freely. Deeper inland lay pristine, emerald-green primeval forests, from which the melodious songs of birds and the distant calls of apes could occasionally be heard. And right in the center of the island stood the extinct volcano, imposing and majestic, its peak veiled in billowing white clouds, resembling a slumbering king.
This was no dead land. This was an earthly paradise, a perfectly preserved world completely unsullied by the outside realm.
"All hands ashore," Tran Kien commanded. "Find a secluded location to make camp. Hunting or felling trees here without my explicit order is strictly forbidden."
"Understood!"
The thirty subordinates swiftly and methodically sprang into action. They hauled the ship into a small cove, then began setting up camp and posting sentries. Every action was incredibly cautious, as if afraid to disturb the tranquility of the island.
Tran Kien did not linger. Accompanied by Old Kinh, he began venturing deeper inland. He was following the guidance of the Seed of Legacy. The seed within his body vibrated gently, pointing out the direction.
They passed through the forest where various spiritual and demonic beasts coexisted peacefully. This time, upon seeing Tran Kien, the Moonlight Deer did not flee in fear; instead, they approached curiously, gently nudging his hand with their small jade horns. The massive White Tiger of the Golden Eye merely raised its head lazily, gave him a glance, and laid back down. In its eyes, there was no hostility, only an acknowledgment.
"They... they all recognize you," Old Kinh marveled.
"They are not recognizing me," Tran Kien replied. "They are recognizing the aura of the Dragon Vein, the aura of the true master of this island."
They continued onward, eventually arriving at the familiar stone courtyard before the ancient pagoda. The pagoda was gone, leaving only an empty expanse of land. But Tran Kien knew it hadn't vanished. It was merely hiding, waiting.
He didn't stop. He walked straight to the small earthen mound, the resting place of the Lac Viet prince. The grass upon the grave was still a vibrant green. The nine ancient, towering trees still stood there, casting their protective shade.
Tran Kien stood before the grave, silently bowing his head. He said nothing. But Old Kinh could sense a silent communion taking place between the living and the departed, between two generations separated by millennia yet sharing the same destiny.
A long while later, Tran Kien finally raised his head. His gaze shifted toward the peak of the extinct volcano.
"Let us go, Elder. The final path lies up there."
They began to ascend the mountain. The path to the summit of Flame Mountain possessed no stairs; it consisted only of jagged volcanic rocks. But to the two of them, it was as flat as a paved road.
As they neared the summit, they saw a cavern. It was no natural cave. The entrance had been carved into the shape of a colossal dragon's gaping maw, majestic and archaic. An aura, scorching yet incredibly pure, radiated from within.
"The true tomb is likely inside," Old Kinh said, his voice trembling slightly.
Tran Kien did not reply. He could feel it—the resonance of the legacy fragments within his body had become fiercely intense. What he sought was right behind these doors.
Without a shred of hesitation, he was the first to step into the dragon's maw.
The interior was not a dark tunnel. It was a space illuminated by crimson crystals embedded in the stone walls. The deeper they ventured, the higher the temperature rose.
Finally, they entered a gargantuan grand hall situated deep within the bowels of the volcano.
In the very center of the grand hall lay a churning lake of magma, radiating a blazing red light. But bizarrely, this magma emitted no foul odor of sulfur; instead, it exuded an incredibly pure, fire-attribute spiritual energy.
And right in the middle of that magma lake sat a stone pedestal.
Upon the stone pedestal, an object lay in silence, having absorbed the essence of the earth's fire for thousands of years.
It was the final metal fragment. Its entire body was a blazing, fiery red, shaped into a sixteen-pointed star.
The Core: Solar Essence Guardian!
The final fragment of the most fundamental array layer had revealed itself.