One month after the night the Black Dragon Stronghold was bathed in blood, the City of Chaos had completely changed. The chaotic aftermath had settled, but the newly established order made people feel even more stifled.
The three-legged stalemate of the great factions was no more. The Phantom Shadow Pavilion, after receiving the Vô Sect's "gift," had completely withdrawn, ignoring worldly affairs. The Crazy Sand Gang and the Black Dragon Stronghold were history. The entirety of the City of Chaos, from the most luxurious gambling dens to the filthiest alleyways, silently rested under the control of an invisible shadow.
The Vô Sect.
No one knew who their Lord was; no one knew where their headquarters lay. People only knew that the Nameless Tavern had become the unofficial center of power, and Thiet Phu, the former chieftain of the Black Wind Stronghold, was now the spokesperson for this mysterious faction. The new rules put in place were not brutal, but they were incredibly strict. Those who obeyed were granted peace. Those who resisted vanished.
The City of Chaos, for the first time in hundreds of years, had a true king. A king who remained hidden in the shadows.
Within the safe house in the blacksmithing district, Tran Kien stood before a bronze mirror. He no longer wore the black cloak or the bamboo hat. He had reverted to his true appearance—a handsome youth with eyes as bright as stars, yet his aura had completely transformed. The immaturity had vanished, replaced by a composure as profound as the vast sea.
After a month of rest and consolidation, his mid-stage Foundation Establishment cultivation base was completely stabilized. The nine-petaled lotus Dao Foundation within his body grew increasingly corporeal, and his Primordial Chaos Qi circulated harmoniously, moving entirely according to his will.
"Lord, everything has been arranged properly."
Thiet Phu stood respectfully behind him. He had been completely subdued, not just by strength, but by the strategy and vision of this young master.
"Good," Tran Kien nodded. "Once I leave, I entrust everything here to you. Remember, the goal of the Vô Sect is not to play hegemon in this tiny City of Chaos. Our goal is the entirety of Dai Viet."
"This subordinate shall engrave it in his heart!"
Tran Kien said nothing more. He had sown the seeds. Those seeds would take root and grow on their own, awaiting the day he returned. He turned around, donning the ordinary robes of a mortal scholar. He did not carry his saber on his back; he only carried a simple cloth bundle. The dull black saber and the Lac Viet relics had all been stored within a bag of holding.
He departed through the secret underground tunnel, leaving no words of farewell and no traces behind. The Faceless Lord, the new king of the City of Chaos, having just ascended his throne, had once again silently vanished into the void.
The journey southward this time was completely different. Tran Kien no longer had to flee. He walked on the official road, blending into the crowd. He looked like a poor scholar traveling to the Imperial Capital to take the examinations. He walked neither too fast nor too slow, observing the changing landscapes and feeling the breath of the Dragon Veins beneath his feet.
The closer he got to the Imperial Capital, the more bustling and prosperous the atmosphere became. Passing through villages and market towns, he heard countless stories.
He heard that after the uproar in the Lam Capital, Marquis Vinh An was furious. He dispatched investigators everywhere, yet ultimately failed to find the true culprit. The war between Marquis Vinh An's Estate and Duke Dinh Quoc's Estate grew increasingly fierce, escalating from schemes in the shadows to open confrontations within the Imperial Court.
He also heard that the young miss of Duke Dinh Quoc's Estate, Trinh Lam Vy, upon returning, was conferred the title of Commandery Princess. However, she was "requested" by the Emperor to remain in the palace for "tutelage"—essentially a form of house arrest, a chess move by the monarch to balance power and restrain both factions.
And he heard that the name Tran Kien, after shaking Kinh Phong Ridge, had once again mysteriously vanished, becoming a legend in the martial world, his story embellished into countless fantastical tales by the masses.
Tran Kien listened to it all in silence, his heart completely unruffled. The chessboard in the Imperial Capital was far more complex and perilous than he had imagined. He knew that with the identity of "Tran Kien," he could not step onto it. He needed a new identity, a new path to enter the very eye of the storm.
After more than a month of travel, the towering and majestic Thang Long Imperial Capital finally appeared in the distance. Its massive, moss-covered ancient walls carried the mark of a thousand years of history. The stream of people flowing into the city was as dense as a river.
Tran Kien did not rush into the city. He found a small teahouse on the outskirts where scholars often gathered. He sat there, quietly sipping tea and reading. He was waiting for an opportunity.
And that opportunity arrived.
He heard news that in three days, the Imperial Court would hold a special examination. It was not to select a top scholar for the civil bureaucracy, but to select "Strategists" for The Six Gates (Lục Phiến Môn)—the special imperial agency dedicated to investigating major cases. This examination did not require a noble background or a high cultivation base; it required only one thing: intellect and strategy.
Tran Kien smiled faintly.
Was this not the exact path the heavens had laid out for him?
He could not use "martial" means to openly enter the Imperial Capital. Therefore, he would use "scholarly" means. He would use his own strategy to become the most unexpected chess piece on this grand board. The stratagem of "Deceiving the Heavens to Cross the Sea"—using the most public, legitimate identity to conceal his true objective.
Three days later, at the examination grounds in the eastern part of the Imperial Capital.
A scholar clad in plain blue robes, possessing refined features but eyes as profound as the sea, quietly stepped inside. In his hands, he carried only a writing brush and an inkstone.
On the registration ledger, he wrote down two characters.
Not Tran Kien.
But Ve Nhan.
Taking Elder Ve's surname to remember his grace. Taking the character "Nhan" (Benevolence/Humanity) to remind himself that no matter which path he walked, he must never forget his roots as a human.
The wind had truly blown toward the Imperial Capital. And a new chess piece, bearing a new name, was silently placed upon the most complex and perilous political chessboard in all of Dai Viet.