The dilapidated Ironwood boat, after Old Kinh's makeshift patching, resembled a scarred, veteran warrior, doggedly pressing forward. The sky had cleared, and the sea had returned to its gentle disposition, yet this tranquility only served to accentuate the colossal, ash-grey wall of mist towering on the horizon.
It was unlike ordinary mist. It was as dense as cotton, eerily motionless, unaffected by the sea breeze. It stood like a fortress wall erected by nature, or perhaps by some supernatural force, severing the mortal realm from a forgotten land.
"We have arrived," Old Kinh said. His single eye narrowed, the awe within it replaced by profound solemnity and a flicker of absolute resolve. "Beyond that wall of mist lies Flame Mountain."
Tran Kien stood at the bow, his grip tight on his matte-black saber. He could sense it—the spiritual energy here was incredibly chaotic. The air contained not just moisture, but a latent, ancient, and potent aura, equal parts majestic and perilous. He knew this was no natural phenomenon. This was an ancient grand array, utilizing an entire expanse of the sea as its foundation.
"Elder, do we simply sail straight in?" Tran Kien asked.
"There is no other choice," Old Kinh replied. "Compasses are useless here. All conventional navigation methods will be disrupted. The only path... is to follow the heart."
He did not speak idly. He lashed the rudder securely, then retrieved an object from his robes. It was a weathered tortoise shell, faintly engraved with Bagua trigrams. Biting his fingertip, he squeezed a drop of blood onto the shell. This was the most ancient divination method of seafarers, relying on bloodline and intuition to find a path of survival in desperate straits.
The small sailboat slowly, methodically entered the wall of mist. The instant the boat was submerged, the outside world seemingly ceased to exist. The azure sky, the vast sea—all of it vanished. In all eight directions, there was only an endless expanse of ash-grey. There was no sound, no wind, not a single wave. The stillness here was far more terrifying than a raging tempest.
"Steadfast your minds!" Old Kinh bellowed. "This mist possesses the power to bewilder the mind! Do not be deceived by illusions!"
Tran Kien required no reminder. He had already sat down cross-legged, circulating his Primordial Chaos Qi and activating the Solar Essence Guardian fragment. A faint golden halo enveloped the boat, dispelling the freezing aura and keeping their minds lucid.
But the true danger did not stem from illusions.
Rustle... rustle...
From within the dense mist, bizarre sounds echoed, resembling tens of thousands of snakes slithering across the water's surface.
Suddenly, from all four directions, long, sinuous black shadows darted out from the mist, attacking the boat. They were gargantuan sea snakes, their entire bodies pitch-black, their backs lined with razor-sharp fins, and their eyes glowing blood-red. These were no ordinary demonic beasts. They appeared to be coalesced from the mist itself and resentful energy, lacking a truly corporeal form.
"They are 'Mist Soul Snakes'!" Old Kinh cried out in horror. "They are the vengeful spirits of pirates who perished in these waters, transformed by the array into guardian monsters! Do not let them touch you!"
He hurled his harpoon, piercing straight through one of the sea snakes. The harpoon passed effortlessly through its body but inflicted absolutely no damage. The sea snake roared, fiercely whipping its tail, knocking the harpoon away.
Tran Kien knew physical blades were useless against them. He did not draw his saber. He stood up, his hands forming an incantation gesture.
The Primordial Chaos Qi within his body, having fused with the power of heavenly lightning, now possessed not only luminous righteousness but also domineering destruction.
"Lightning Dragon Strike!"
He did not summon true heavenly lightning. He merely condensed his Primordial Chaos Qi into the form of a small silver lightning dragon. With a roar, it plunged into the swarm of sea snakes.
SZZZZZ...!!!
Lightning was the absolute nemesis of all Yin souls and evil entities. The silver lightning dragon tearing into the swarm of Mist Soul Snakes was like a hot knife slicing through butter. Any sea snake touched by it instantly shrieked in agony before dissolving into a wisp of grey smoke.
In a matter of mere breaths, the ferocious swarm of sea snakes was utterly annihilated.
Old Kinh stared at the scene in a stupor, then looked at Tran Kien, his single eye overflowing with shock. This boy... his power... has it grown stronger once more?
Yet the peril was not over. After the sea snakes dissipated, the surrounding mist seemed to grow even denser. Their boat began to spin in place, having completely lost its bearing.
"Disaster," Old Kinh said, looking at the tortoise shell, which had lost its glow. "The array has shifted. We are lost."
Tran Kien slightly furrowed his brows. He knew this was the true trial of the array. It did not kill with martial force; it imprisoned intruders here until they died of exhaustion.
He did not panic. He silently retrieved his ancestral token from his robes.
The green bronze fragment shaped like a spreading Lac bird.
He squeezed a drop of his own blood onto it. The fresh blood, carrying Dragon Qi, was swiftly absorbed.
HUM...
The green bronze fragment abruptly vibrated, radiating a jade-green halo, warm and resolute. The image of the Lac bird upon it seemingly came to life. It did not fly away; it merely tilted its head slightly, its long beak pointing in a single direction, piercing through the dense mist.
"That way!" Tran Kien pointed.
Old Kinh, without a shred of hesitation, instantly manned the rudder, steering the boat in the direction the Lac bird indicated.
The small sailboat, guided by an ancient relic, commenced a new journey through the misty labyrinth. Along the way, they encountered countless other perils: shifting ghost islands, sudden whirlpools, and mind-beguiling songs. But thanks to Old Kinh's experience, Tran Kien's power, and the token's guidance, they overcame them all.
After three days and three nights adrift in a mist where the sun never shone.
On a certain morning, the mist ahead abruptly thinned. A current of warm air, carrying the scent of earth and vegetation, wafted toward them.
And when their boat finally broke completely through the wall of mist...
A colossal, emerald-green island, overflowing with vitality, revealed itself before their eyes.
In the very center of the island stood a majestic, long-extinct volcano, its peak hidden amongst white clouds. At its base lay dense, primeval forests, from which the cries of apes and the calls of birds could occasionally be heard.
Flame Mountain.
They had, at last, reached the forgotten land.