The aftermath of the battle at the Sacred City brought a close to a chapter filled with demons and millennium-old conspiracies. The Black Water Ghost Domain, following the soul dissipation of the final Master of the Sacred City, was no longer shrouded in its former gloom. The ink-black mists dissipated, returning to these waters the azure clarity and the warm radiance of Heaven and Earth.
The black fleet, bearing the majestic character "VO" (Formless), did not pause to gather the spoils of war. Under the absolute command of Tran Kien, they immediately weighed anchor and hoisted their sails, carrying the momentum of victors as they cleaved through the waves and lunged toward the North.
Their target: The Thang Long Imperial Capital.
This journey back was no longer an escape or a tentative probe. It was a conquest.
Aboard the flagship, the atmosphere was incredibly solemn. Tran Kien did not revel in the joy of triumph. He spent the vast majority of his time within his cabin—on one hand, consolidating his newly attained Mid-stage Golden Core Realm; on the other, digesting the totality of knowledge and memories inherited from the Crystal Palace and the soul fragment of the Sacred City's Master.
He finally understood. The "Sacred Dynasty" was no mere demonic faction. They were a collective of extremist cultivators, descendants of Imperial Preceptors and Grand Magi from preceding eras. In their pursuit of the path to eternal life and absolute power, they had strayed into darkness. The Marquis of Vinh An was merely a puppet chosen for this current age. Their objective was not merely to topple the court, but to utilize the Dragon Veins of all Dai Viet as a sacrifice in a wicked ritual, enabling their slumbering ancient monsters to achieve rebirth through possession.
A chessboard spanning a millennium. Tran Kien clenched his fist tightly. He knew the enemy he faced was not just an overbearing official, but a phantom of history.
"Exalted Lord," Thiet Phu entered, holding a nautical chart. "We have completed half the journey. We expect to reach the mouth of the Hong Ha River in ten days. However... our eyes and ears in the southern ports report that the Marquis's naval forces have begun to move. They have blockaded nearly all the primary waterways leading to the capital."
"I see," Tran Kien nodded, showing not a hint of surprise. "A dog driven into a corner will always snap its jaws blindly."
"Then do we need to take a detour, Lord?"
"There is no need," Tran Kien shook his head. "Time waits for no one. The capital is in chaos; Duke Dinh Quoc and Tao Chinh surely cannot hold out for long. We must use our maximum speed to return."
He stood and approached the chart. "Does Vinh An truly believe that blocking the river is enough to stop us? He has forgotten that our battlefield does not lie solely upon the water's surface."
He pointed to a small, remote port named "Van Don." "Though small, this is one of the oldest trading ports of Dai Viet. It possesses secret mountain paths that merchants once used to evade taxes, leading directly to the west of the capital."
"Thiet Phu," he commanded. "Take ten of the most elite Blood Fiend Guards and Old Whale. Leave the ship tonight. Use a small skiff to head to Van Don ahead of us. Your mission is not combat, but preparation. Procure swift horses and dry rations. Most importantly, contact the Formless Sect's intelligence network there to grasp every movement along the mountain roads."
"As for us," he looked toward the remaining warriors. "We shall continue straight ahead. We shall put on a grand performance for the Marquis of Vinh An."
This was the classic stratagem: "Openly repairing the plank roads while secretly crossing through Chencang."
Five days later, at the mouth of the Hong Ha River.
A formidable naval fleet of the Marquis of Vinh An, banners blotting the sky, had laid out an iron-clad battle formation, waiting for the prey to deliver itself into the net. The commanding general, a trusted confidant of the Marquis's Estate, stood at the prow with a look of extreme smugness.
But he waited and waited, yet the silhouette of the black fleet never appeared.
Just then, a sentry rushed over. "R-reporting, General! To the East... a small boat is approaching, flying a black banner with the character 'VO'!"
"What? A single boat?" The general was stunned. He hurriedly looked in that direction. Sure enough, a small skiff was advancing arrogantly toward their fleet, a lone horse of the sea. Upon the boat stood a single figure clad in a black cloak.
"Arrogant! Daring to look down upon our grand army like this?" The general's face turned livid. "Hear my command! Capture him alive! I wish to see if this legendary Faceless Exalted Lord truly possesses three heads and six arms!"
Dozens of warships immediately split off, forming an encirclement as they lunged toward the small boat.
But as they drew near, they were horrified to discover that the one standing on the boat was not a youth. It was a straw effigy, draped in a black cloak! And upon the mast, beside the "VO" banner, hung another object.
A severed head. The head of the Foundation Establishment Protector who had been struck down by heavenly lightning at the To Lich River crossing!
"Something is wrong! We've been tricked!" the general roared in terror. "Their true objective isn't here! Return to the capital immediately!"
But it was already too late.
Simultaneously, hundreds of miles to the West, a cavalry unit of nearly fifty men—clad in pitch-black armor without insignia—had, like a whirlwind, silently made landfall at Van Don. Day and night without rest, they followed the secret paths, charging straight toward the Thang Long Imperial Capital. Leading them was Tran Kien.
The wind had truly blown toward the capital. This time, it did not come from the river.
It came from the enemy's rear.