After three days and three nights of imprisonment within an endless expanse of mist, the sensation of setting foot upon solid ground, of breathing in fresh air carrying the scent of earth and vegetation, truly felt like a rebirth.
The small black sailboat, having fulfilled its purpose, was hauled by Old Kinh and Tran Kien into a secluded cove, concealed by reefs and wild foliage. This place would serve as their final fallback point, their sole route of retreat.
"Tread carefully," Old Kinh advised, his single eye scanning their surroundings with deep vigilance. "This place has been isolated from the outside world for several millennia. No one knows what creatures might be hiding within those dense jungles."
Tran Kien nodded. He could sense it as well. The spiritual energy upon this island was incredibly abundant and pristine, yet it harbored a primordial, ancient aura unlike anywhere else he had ever been. This was a primitive world, an otherworldly paradise untouched by human interference.
They did not head straight toward the extinct volcano at the center. Based on Old Kinh's experience, the more critical the location, the tighter its defenses would be. The first priority was to scout and find a safe path.
Following the coastline, they entered a dense forest at the foot of the mountain. The trees here were all colossal ancients, their girth requiring five or six men to embrace. Their luxuriant canopies blotted out the sun, rendering the forest as gloomy by day as it would be at twilight. The ground was blanketed by a thick layer of rotting leaves, amidst which the white bones of unidentified beasts could occasionally be seen.
Tran Kien took the vanguard, his matte-black saber already drawn. Every step he took was incredibly light, yet he remained perpetually in a state of combat readiness. His mid-Foundation Establishment cultivation and the Primordial Chaos Qi fused with lightning bestowed upon him a tremendous confidence.
After traveling roughly a li, they abruptly halted.
Ahead, in a clearing, a herd of sika deer was leisurely grazing. But these were no ordinary deer. Their fur was not yellow, but silver-white. Atop the forehead of each sprouted a small, jade-like horn, radiating a faint spiritual glow. This was the "Moonlight Deer", a docile spiritual beast of legend, long extinct in the outside world.
But what caused them to stop was not the herd of deer. It was what lay beside them. A colossal tiger, its entire body covered in snow-white fur, bearing a golden character for "King" (王) upon its forehead, lay there lazily licking its razor-sharp claws. It was a "White Tiger of the Golden Eye", a demonic beast whose strength had reached at least the late-Foundation Establishment stage.
For such a ferocious demonic beast to coexist peacefully alongside a herd of docile spiritual beasts... this scene utterly contradicted the laws of nature.
"Do not disturb it," Old Kinh whispered. "There is a bizarre equilibrium here. It is likely the influence of the prince's array formation."
They carefully bypassed the clearing, not daring to make a single sound.
They continued deeper inside. The further they went, the more bizarre the creatures they encountered: monkeys with golden fur, and colossal pythons bearing crests like roosters. They were all exceptionally rare demonic beasts and spiritual beasts, yet they coexisted harmoniously in an incredibly unique ecosystem.
After half a day's journey, they found a small, winding path paved with moss-covered bluestones. This path was clearly man-made, twisting its way up the mountainside.
"Follow it," Old Kinh said. "This is likely the path leading to the tomb."
The stone path was incredibly long and steep. After two sichen of travel, they finally emerged from the dense forest. Ahead lay a vast courtyard, built directly into the side of the mountain.
And right in the center of the courtyard stood a majestic, ancient nine-story pagoda. Constructed entirely of black volcanic rock, each tier was carved with exquisite reliefs depicting the lives of the Hung Kings, from the creation of heaven and earth to the repelling of foreign invaders. A solemn, tragic aura radiated from the pagoda, evoking a profound, subconscious reverence.
"This is no tomb," Tran Kien murmured. "This is an ancestral temple."
But just as they stepped forward, from either side of the pagoda, two silhouettes abruptly materialized, blocking their path.
They were not the living, nor were they Bronze Warriors.
They were two stone statues.
One depicted a civil official grasping a writing brush. The other depicted a martial official wielding a battle-axe. They looked utterly mundane.
Yet, as Tran Kien and Old Kinh drew near, the two statues abruptly snapped their eyes open!
Two beams of light, one black and one white, shot forth from their eyes.
CRACK! CRACK!
Their stone exteriors shattered, revealing bodies forged from an unknown jade—one black, one white—radiating incredibly potent auras.
"Who dares to trespass upon the prince's sacred ground?!" the two statues spoke in unison. Their voices lacked all emotion, sounding like stones grinding against each other.
"They are 'Yin-Yang Stone Statues'!" Old Kinh cried out in horror. "The highest tier of guardian puppets, forged from Yin-Yang Jade! They can absorb the spiritual energy of Heaven and Earth to self-repair. The strength of each is no less than that of a peak Foundation Establishment expert!"
The two puppets wasted no breath on idle words. The civil official statue, the Yin Statue, raised its black jade brush and drew a stroke through the air. A character for "Imprison" (囚) formed of Yin-Malice Qi instantly materialized, transforming into an energy cage that plummeted straight toward them.
The martial official statue, the Yang Statue, unleashed a roar. Heaving its white jade battle-axe, carrying the domineering gale of Yang-Firmness Qi, it cleaved straight down!
An offensive and a defensive strike, coordinating with flawless perfection!
"You handle the one with the axe! I'll take the one with the brush!" Old Kinh roared, refusing to retreat. His single eye flashed with a glint of madness. He drew a finely crafted steel harpoon and, mustering every ounce of his life's strength, lunged straight toward the Yang Statue.
Tran Kien knew this was an unavoidable battle. He did not draw his saber. He knew that against these lifeless puppets, conventional saber arts would be largely ineffective.
He raised both hands. In his left hand, a sparkling sliver of silver lightning manifested. In his right hand, a golden flame, carrying the aura of the grand sun, flared to life.
The power of heavenly lightning and the power of the grand sun. Two of the most purely Yang, domineering energies in the world.
"Come!" he bellowed, devoid of a shred of fear, charging headlong toward the descending black energy cage.
The battle to protect the sacred ground, and the very first trial upon Flame Mountain, had officially erupted.