The valley behind the rebel army's main encampment, the repository for all the provisions and hopes of a hundred-thousand-strong army, was now immersed in a deathly silence. The majority of the elite soldiers had been dispatched to deal with Thiet Phu's "attack" in the West. All that remained was a single Foundation Establishment expert and roughly a hundred guards, patrolling lethargically. They occasionally cast glances toward the distant flames and shouts, harboring both a trace of anxiety and a hint of smugness that they did not have to partake in the slaughter.
They did not know that the Reaper was not in the West. The Reaper was right above their heads.
Tran Kien, having slipped past the guard patrols without a sound, alighted upon the roof of the largest granary as gently as a falling leaf. He showed no haste. He lay flat against the tiles, circulating the Primordial Chaos Qi within his body to conceal his aura entirely. His eyes, glowing in the darkness like a cat's, coldly surveyed the entire defensive layout below. He was calculating. Calculating the most flawless path of retreat.
Burning the provisions was simple. The true problem was how to escape from a colossal military encampment after poking the largest hornet's nest.
At that exact moment, a long, urgent blast from a war horn sounded from the main camp. The remaining Foundation Establishment expert, upon receiving the command, did not hesitate. His figure transformed into a streak of light, streaking straight toward the West to provide reinforcement.
The perfect opportunity had arrived!
Tran Kien hesitated no longer. He did not need a physical spark. He raised his right hand. Within his palm, a small, golden flame flared to life, carrying the righteous, luminous aura of the sun.
But he did not throw it down. He did something else.
"Lac Viet Heavenly Cycle Array - Outer Layer: Unhindered Lac Feathers!"
He did not summon Lac birds to attack. He used the intent of the array to command the wind! A sudden gale, without any prior warning, swept through the valley. It was not a massive storm, but it was incredibly bizarre, blowing in a single, unified direction.
The direction of the dry grass and firewood used for cooking.
Only then did Tran Kien gently release the solar flame from his hand. The tiny flame, upon meeting the dry grass carried by the wind, ignited with a loud WHOOSH. It instantly erupted into a ferocious inferno, transforming into a true fire dragon. Following the path of dry grass Tran Kien had orchestrated with the wind, it plunged straight into the largest granary.
"FIRE! FIRE!!!"
The patrolling guards shrieked in terror. They frantically rushed over to douse the flames.
But it was already too late. The solar flame was no ordinary fire. Imbued with spiritual energy, once it caught onto the oil-soaked dry rations, it could no longer be extinguished.
"BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!"
In mere breaths, an entire row of granaries was engulfed in a sea of fire. The crackling of the blaze echoed ceaselessly. A colossal pillar of black smoke, carrying the acrid scent of charred grain, soared into the heavens, clearly visible from dozens of li away.
"This is bad! Quickly, return to save the provisions!"
In the West, the two Foundation Establishment experts, who were about to encircle Thiet Phu, suddenly saw the pillar of black smoke behind them. Their complexions instantly plummeted. They realized in horror that they had been deceived! The attack here was merely a feint to the East while striking the West!
"Retreat!"
But would Thiet Phu and the Blood Fiend Guards grant them that chance?
"KILL!"
Tran Kien paid no heed to the distant battle. He knew his mission was complete. Exploiting the extreme chaos, his figure moved like a phantom. He did not retreat to the rear; instead, he charged straight ahead, heading directly for the central command tent of the Marquis of Vinh An!
He didn't just want to burn the provisions. He wanted to deliver an even greater gift to the Marquis.
As he drew near, he saw that while the central tent lacked many soldiers, it was enveloped by an invisible layer of restrictive formations, clearly overseen by an array master.
Tran Kien merely sneered. He did not attempt to break the array.
He drew Mong Phong's Army-Breaker Saber. He did not slash at the formation.
He slashed at the commander's banner of the Marquis of Vinh An, flying proudly before the tent!
A wave of Saber Intent, carrying the momentum of the thirty-thousand-strong Tran Bac Army and the indignation of the Dragon Veins, surged forth.
SHIIIING!
The flagpole of pure iron was cleaved cleanly in two. The commander's banner, embroidered with the image of a python—the symbol of the Marquis's power and ambition—fell to the muddy ground with a heavy thud.
"Marquis Vinh An," Tran Kien murmured, his voice as cold as ice. "This is merely the beginning."
Having spoken, without a shred of lingering attachment, he turned around. His frame melted into the night, vanishing without a trace. He left behind a towering sea of fire, a broken commander's banner, and a hundred-thousand-strong army on the verge of starvation and panic.
The East Wind had truly fanned an inextinguishable inferno.