The play within the central command tent had reached its finale, but its echoes were only just beginning to ripple outward. Mong Phong, the veteran general who had spent his entire life believing only in the power of the blade, had for the first time bowed his head before the strategy of a young scholar. Yet, that bow was not one of humiliation; it was one of profound admiration and a newly kindled hope.
The stratagem of "Luring the snake out of its hole" had been an absolute success. However, Tran Kien knew that this was merely the opening move upon the chessboard of the borders. The serpent of the Black Wind Tribe had been startled, but the true enemy was the venomous python, Marquis Vinh An, lurking in the distant imperial capital. He required a grander snare.
That night, within the Army Inspector's manor—a humble yet secluded residence.
Tran Kien did not rest. He was interrogating the messenger of Marquis Vinh An. This man, after being surrendered by the Black Wind Tribe and witnessing the spectacle of the "Mountain God's Wrath," had suffered a total mental collapse. He divulged everything.
Marquis Vinh An's plan was even more ruthless than Tran Kien had imagined. He had not merely supplied weapons to the Black Wind Tribe; he had promised them that, once the deed was done, he would cede three northern provinces to them as a feoffment. He would allow them to establish their own sovereign nation—a permanent thorn embedded in the back of Dai Viet.
Treason! A crime warranting the extermination of nine generations! Tran Kien clenched his fist, a sliver of cold killing intent flickering in his eyes.
He did not kill the messenger. He knew this chess piece still possessed value.
"Do you wish to live?" Tran Kien asked, his voice devoid of emotion.
"I do! I do! I beg the Great Lord for mercy!"
"Very well," Tran Kien nodded. "I shall grant you a chance. You will 'escape' from this place and return to your master. But as for how you report... you will follow my words exactly."
He leaned close to the messenger's ear, whispering his plan. As he listened, the messenger's face turned ashen, his eyes brimming with terror. This stratagem was too insidious!
Two days later, a piece of "confidential" intelligence was transmitted from Tran Bac City.
Army Inspector Tran Kien, due to a profound disagreement with Great General Mong Phong, has been stripped of all authority and placed under house arrest. Mong Phong, after subduing the Black Wind Tribe, has become incomparably arrogant, dismissing the barbarians as mere fools and neglecting his defenses. Simultaneously, the messenger of Marquis Vinh An "luckily" exploited a lapse in security, escaped the dungeon, and fled south with vital information.
The plays of "Playing hard to get" and "Deceiving the heavens to cross the sea" were performed to perfection.
When the escaped messenger returned to the capital, bearing a meticulously detailed report (penned by Tran Kien himself) regarding the "internal strife" and "neglected defenses" of the Tran Bac Army, Marquis Vinh An threw his head back and laughed.
"Even the Heavens aid me! Mong Phong is but a boorish warrior, possessing brawn but no brains. That Army Inspector Tran Kien may have some talent, but he is too green, lacking the wisdom to handle interpersonal affairs. This is a golden opportunity!"
He immediately dispatched men to secretly supply a massive quantity of weapons, grain, and even a few low-grade magical artifacts to a barbarian tribe even more powerful and ferocious than the Black Wind Tribe—the Blood Wolf Tribe. Simultaneously, he sent a secret edict.
The order was simple: The Tran Bac Army is weakened and rife with internal conflict. This is the optimal moment to strike. As long as you can seize Tran Bac City, the three northern provinces shall be yours!
The fierce tiger, blinded by the scent of succulent prey, was step by step walking into the waiting snare.
Meanwhile, within Tran Bac City.
The entire army, under Mong Phong's command and Tran Kien's arrangement, no longer displayed any sign of neglect. They were silently preparing for the greatest battle seen in a decade.
The finest weapons were polished. The sturdiest shields were reinforced. Hidden traps and defensive mechanisms that had long been abandoned were covertly repaired.
Tran Kien did not merely sit in his tent plotting. He personally visited every military camp. He did not speak of high-level military theory; instead, he used his profound insights into the tempering of the body from the Iron Piercing manual to instruct the soldiers on how to exert force and dodge effectively to minimize casualties. He utilized his Primordial Chaos Qi to secretly augment their arrows and blades, making them peerlessly sharp and resilient.
He was no longer just an Army Inspector. He had become the soul of the entire army. The respect the thirty thousand soldiers of the Tran Bac Army held for him was no longer a matter of obligation; it was true veneration.
Ten days later.
On a night without moon or stars, the enemy's war horns suddenly resounded from the distance. The very earth began to tremble.
"REPORT!!!" A sentry rushed into the central command tent. "Great General! Army Inspector! The Blood Wolf Tribe... they have mobilized their entire force! Over fifty thousand warriors are launching a massive assault upon Tran Bac City!"
The atmosphere in the tent instantly turned taut.
Yet, Mong Phong and his vice generals showed not a shred of panic. They merely looked toward the young scholar who was calmly sipping tea to the side.
Tran Kien slowly set down his teacup. He stood up and walked to the military sandbox.
"The fish has taken the bait," he said, his voice not loud, yet carrying a chilling, iron-clad conviction.
He picked up a crimson command flag and slammed it down onto the model of Tran Bac City.
"Pass down my command," he said, his gaze as sharp as a blade. "Seal the city gates. Prepare to meet the enemy."
"This game of the borders," he murmured, "the time has come... to bring it to an end."