The primordial, chaotic light enveloping Tran Kien did not persist for long. It was akin to the blink of an eye, but within that blink, he had lived through an entire millennium.
When the final stream of light fully fused into his body, and the whispers of the last Shaman faded into the void, Tran Kien slowly opened his eyes.
The world in his vision was completely different.
He could see the flow of spiritual qi and hear the whispers of history. The entirety of the knowledge, the absolute essence of a civilization, had been deeply carved into his Divine Soul. He didn't just know how to deploy the Lac Viet Heavenly Cycle Array; he understood why it had been created in such a manner. Each layer of the array was a distillation of the nation's spirit: the indomitable will against natural disasters, the boundless creativity in daily life, and the unflinching courage in the face of foreign invasion. This power was not meant for destruction, but for protection.
"Rumble... rumble... rumble..."
The entirety of the grand Crystal Palace, having fulfilled its mission of inheritance, began to shake violently. Colossal cracks appeared on the crystal dome above, and seawater from outside began to leak in. The white coral palaces began to collapse. The sanctuary was meeting its end.
"Move, quickly!" Old Whale roared, frantically preparing to carve out a bloody path of escape.
But Tran Kien showed no fear. He looked at his companion, then smiled faintly—a smile carrying confidence and the vicissitudes of ages.
"There is no need to run."
He performed no complex gestures. He merely gently raised his hand, his palm facing the chaotic space.
A single thought was transmitted.
"Core: Solar Essence Guardian - Open!"
Instantly, from within his body, a miniature golden sun flew out, hovering above the two of them. It radiated a warm halo of light, not blinding at all, enveloping them. The leaking seawater, upon touching this halo, automatically parted to the sides. The colossal coral boulders falling from above, upon nearing the halo, slowed down, then gently slid to the side.
This was no longer passive defense. This was "control." He was using his very own will to "Protect" to create a domain of absolute safety.
Old Whale was utterly astounded by this divine spectacle.
"Let us go," Tran Kien said.
He did not use a teleportation divine ability. He merely walked leisurely, and the protective halo moved with him, carving a safe path through the rubble. They strolled casually through the collapsing palaces and the corridors being swallowed by seawater, as if they were taking a walk in their own courtyard.
When they stepped out of the main doors of the Crystal Palace, the entire citadel had nearly completely sunk to the seabed. The Sea Dragon Guards aboard the black ship watched the scene in terror, their hearts filled with extreme anxiety.
At that exact moment, from beneath the water's surface, a golden sphere of light slowly ascended, containing two silhouettes without a single drop of water on them.
The sphere of light gently landed on the deck. Tran Kien withdrew the array.
"Exalted Lord!" Barbarian Bull and everyone else dropped to one knee in unison, their eyes brimming with fanatical zeal and veneration. They didn't know what had transpired below, but they could sense that their Exalted Lord had undergone a complete metamorphosis.
Tran Kien did not look back at the sinking sanctuary. He knew the true legacy no longer lay there. It lay within him.
He raised his head, gazing toward the distant expanse of the sea, the direction of the mainland.
"Weigh anchor," he commanded, his voice placid yet carrying an undeniable majesty. "We return."
The journey back was no longer an escape.
The black ship, bearing the character "TRAN," made no effort to conceal its tracks. It righteously cleaved through the waves, gliding across the sea's surface. Any pirate crew, no matter how ferocious, upon seeing that black banner from afar, hastily made way; not a single one dared to approach.
Tran Kien spent the majority of his time within the ship's cabin. He did not cultivate. He was doing something else.
He brought out the rare and precious mineral ores he had gathered. Using his own Primordial Chaos Qi and the solar flames within his body as a furnace, and utilizing the Saber Intent - A Thousand Hammers, A Hundred Refinements as a hammer, he was reforging his saber.
The old, matte-black saber was melted down, fusing with countless heavenly materials and earthly treasures. Gradually, an entirely new saber took form. The blade remained pitch-black, but it was as profound as the night sky. Its edge was no longer blatantly sharp; instead, it was restrained to the absolute extreme. Along the blade, natural golden veins formed the image of a coiling Lac dragon, alongside glittering stars.
He gave it a name.
"Lac Hong."
Derived from the bloodline of Lord Lac Long Quan, and from the Red River (Hong Ha) of their lands.
As they neared the mainland, a messenger bird from Duke Dinh Quoc's Estate found them. Inside was a secret missive from Uncle Sword, who had returned to the capital earlier.
The contents were incredibly brief: Marquis Vinh An could no longer sit still. He had allied with the remnants of the Black Dragon Stronghold and several demonic sects, using the pretext of "eradicating heretical demons" to rebel and besiege the imperial capital. Duke Dinh Quoc was struggling to hold the line. The situation is dire!
Tran Kien silently burned the letter to ashes. Within his profound eyes, there was no anxiety, only a blazing inferno.
He stepped out onto the prow, gripping the newly forged Lac Hong Saber in his hand.
"Hear my command!" his voice rang out, echoing across the sea.
"Maximum speed!"
"Target: Thang Long Imperial Capital!"
"The time has come," he murmured, "to let this entire world know... the true master of this land... has returned."