The pitch-black sea was as still as a colossal shroud. Tran Kien glided over the water without a ripple; every footstep was as light as a feather yet contained the steadfastness of a mountain. Behind him, the black fleet had pulled back, merging into the mist, lying in wait. Ahead loomed the towering Sacred City island, a true slumbering sea monster.
The closer he drew, the more distinctly he felt the dense evil energy radiating from the island. This aura was not merely yin-cold; it carried a corrosive, decaying nature, seemingly capable of gnawing at the life force of all creation. Not a single fish dared to approach the surrounding waters. The jet-black, barren cliffs, devoid of a single blade of grass, looked like sun-bleached bones.
When his feet truly stepped onto the island's volcanic rock, a bone-chilling coldness transmitted from the earth. He felt the circulation of the Primordial Chaos Qi within his body become somewhat sluggish. He knew that this entire island had been altered by a grand Shamanic array, transformed into a veritable death zone.
He did not halt. He knew he had to create a disturbance large enough to lure the dragon from its cave. His gaze swept the area, stopping at the nearest Black Water Divine Cannon. This colossal cannon rested upon a sturdy stone pedestal, its pitch-black muzzle resembling the maw of a monster, its barrel covered in wicked Shamanic runes. Surrounding it stood a squad of ten Evil Spirit Guards—black-armored puppets with emerald-green flames dancing in their eyes, standing watch.
Tran Kien did not hesitate for a moment. His figure moved like a phantom, silently hugging the rocks, approaching from behind. His Divine Soul was still injured; he could not engage in a prolonged battle. He had to strike with lightning speed.
When he was less than ten zhang away, one of the Evil Spirit Guards seemed to sense something and snapped its head around. But it was too late.
Swish!
The Lac Hong Saber had already been drawn. A streak of blade-light, devoid of any heaven-shaking momentum, thin as a strand of silk, sliced through the air. The Evil Spirit Guard's emerald flames widened in shock as its head silently fell to the ground. Only then did the remaining guards discover the threat in horror. But would Tran Kien grant them an opportunity?
"Unhindered Lac Feathers!"
His movement technique became incredibly ethereal and unpredictable. Dozens of his afterimages manifested simultaneously, lunging into the Evil Spirit Guards' formation from all directions. The saber-light flashed like a meteor shower. In the span of a mere three breaths, ten Evil Spirit Guards—puppets at the Foundation Establishment Realm—had been hacked to pieces.
Tran Kien did not stop. He charged straight for the Black Water Divine Cannon. He did not slash at the barrel. He used the pommel of his saber to viciously smash into the energy-supplying Array Heart at its rear.
"BOOOOOOM!!!"
A massive explosion rang out. The sturdy divine cannon detonated from within, reduced to a pile of scrap iron.
Atop the Sacred City, within the black jade palace, the mysterious master sitting upon the throne abruptly snapped his eyes open. The composure on his face vanished, replaced by a chilling rage.
"Excellent! Bravo for a courageous mouse!" He could not have anticipated that his prey would not only refuse to flee, but would actively attack his defensive systems. This was a blatant provocation.
"Shadow Guards!" he roared.
From the shadows of the palace, ten black silhouettes dropped to one knee without a sound. Their auras were far more terrifying than the Shadow Guards of Marquis Vinh An.
"Follow me," he stood up. "We are going to catch a mouse."
The dragon had truly been lured from its lair.
Aboard the black fleet, Uncle Sword, who had been continuously observing with his Divine Sense, saw the explosion on the island and his gaze instantly turned sharp. "The time has come!"
He wasted no words. "Thiet Phu, Ly Tin! Lead the elites! Target: the palace atop the mountain! Old Whale, Trinh Cong, Lam Vy! Remain to guard the ships and provide ranged support!"
"UNDERSTOOD!"
Over thirty of the most elite shadows, personally led by Uncle Sword, silently departed the flagship. They did not use boats. They glided across the water, hugging the hidden path behind the cliffs that Tran Kien had pointed out, beginning their infiltration into the enemy's lair.
Tran Kien, having destroyed the divine cannon, showed no intention of fleeing. He stood there amidst the ruins, quietly regulating his breath. He knew the true prey was arriving.
Before long, an earth-shattering coercive pressure descended from the mountain peak. The master of the Sacred City, bringing along ten Shadow Guards, swooped down like hawks, surrounding him.
"The bait has been cast," he muttered, fresh blood trickling from the corner of his mouth due to his recent exertion. "Now, I only hope... my hunters are fast enough."