The ground trembled for a moment before returning to stillness. The nine-story pagoda, a treasury of knowledge and the crucible for the soul of an entire era, had fulfilled its purpose, sinking eternally into the mountain's depths, taking with it heavenly secrets not meant for the mortal world. All that remained was an empty, moss-covered stone courtyard and two figures, one old and one young, standing amidst a chaotic swirl of emotions.
Old Kinh stared into the void where the pagoda had vanished, his single eye etched with a profound sense of sorrow and loss. To him, that pagoda was not merely a structure; it was the symbol of his clan's vigil, a vigil maintained for hundreds of years.
Tran Kien, however, showed no sorrow. He simply stood there in silence, his hand clutching the "Seed of Legacy" tightly. The jet-black seed, inscribed with golden veins forming the character "TRANSMISSION" (Truyền), radiated a warm, potent life force. He knew the pagoda's disappearance was not an end, but a beginning. His ancestors did not want their descendants to forever wallow in the past. They wanted him to utilize this very legacy to forge a new future.
"Let us go, Elder," Tran Kien said, his voice pulling Old Kinh from his reverie. "We have one final task to accomplish."
Old Kinh nodded. Gathering his emotions, his gaze grew resolute once more. Wordlessly, the two followed the ancient stone path, continuing their ascent toward the summit of Flame Mountain.
The higher they climbed, the more solemn the path became. The dense forests and bizarre demonic beasts were gone. There were only pitch-black volcanic rocks, sitting silently like loyal sentinels. The air was incredibly pristine, and the spiritual energy was so dense that faint, multi-colored wisps could be seen drifting about.
Finally, they reached the summit.
The peak of Flame Mountain was not a jagged crater as one might expect. It was a vast, perfectly flat expanse of land, as if leveled by some invisible, supreme force.
In the very center stood no magnificent, grandiose tomb.
There was only a small earthen mound.
A very ordinary mound, covered in lush green grass, bearing a single, time-worn stone stele devoid of any inscription. Surrounding the mound were nine ancient, towering trees of an unknown species, their luxuriant canopies intertwining to form a natural dome, sheltering the rest of the one who lay beneath.
A simplicity brought to its absolute limit. Yet it exuded a majesty, a harmony with Heaven and Earth that no imperial mausoleum could ever match.
This was the final resting place of the Lac Viet prince, the one who had forsaken a throne to preserve the legacy of an entire civilization.
Upon seeing that mound, Old Kinh could no longer contain himself. Trembling, he dropped to both knees and kowtowed heavily against the hard earth. The tears of an old man who had lived nearly a century, weathering countless storms, now poured forth like rain.
"Prince!" he choked out. "The seventeenth-generation descendant of the Le Clan, Le Kinh... has finally... finally fulfilled the oath of his ancestors! The Chosen One has been brought home!"
Tran Kien stood by, watching in silence. He offered no words of comfort. He knew these were tears of absolute loyalty, of a vigil enduring for centuries. Any words at this moment would be superfluous.
He simply stepped forward, standing before the mound. He did not kneel. He merely bowed deeply—the bow of a descendant honoring a venerable predecessor.
"Respected Ancestor," he murmured. "Please, entrust your mission to this junior."
With that, he did not hesitate for a fraction of a second. Using his own hands, he gently dug out a small layer of soil right atop the mound. The earth here was incredibly fertile, loose, and brimming with life force.
He carefully placed the "Seed of Legacy" into the hollow.
Then, he did something that left Old Kinh utterly dumbfounded. He did not simply cover the seed with soil. He bit his fingertip, squeezing three drops of fresh blood onto the seed.
Three drops of blood carrying Primordial Chaos Qi, carrying the aura of the Dragon Veins, and most importantly, carrying his own indomitable will and oath.
"I, Tran Kien, take this blood as witness," he swore inwardly. "I swear to dedicate this life to protecting the legacy and restoring the glory of Lac Viet. I swear to wield this power to protect the common people and eradicate true evil. If there ever comes a day I violate this oath, may Heaven and Earth obliterate me, forbidding me from reincarnation for all eternity!"
The very instant the oath was forged.
BOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!
The entirety of Flame Island quaked violently! From the exact spot where the seed was planted, an azure pillar of light, overflowing with a majestic, unyielding life force, erupted straight into the azure heavens, piercing the very cloud layer!
The seed, having received Tran Kien's blood and oath, instantly sprouted!
It did not grow into a tree. It grew into roots of golden light. Those roots did not burrow into the earth. They pierced into the void, tearing through space itself, connecting to something formless yet unspeakably vast.
Tran Kien knew they were connecting to the Heart of the Dragon within the secret realm, connecting to the Dragon Veins of Great Viet!
He could feel it. The pitch-black, venomous threads of Marquis Vinh An that had been corroding the Dragon Veins, upon contact with these roots of light, dissolved and were purified like snow encountering the blazing sun. The heart of the dragon was being healed!
And a fraction of the purest energy from the Dragon Vein, flowing through those very roots, surged backward, pouring into Tran Kien's body.
CRACK! CRACK!
The nine-petaled lotus Dao Foundation within his body, nurtured by this stream of pure energy, began to rotate madly. The aura radiating from him skyrocketed at a terrifying velocity.
Peak mid-Foundation Establishment! Late-Foundation Establishment! Peak late-Foundation Establishment!
He was now but a single step away from the Core Formation stage—an entirely new realm, the boundary between mortal and immortal!
The pillar of light slowly retracted. Everything returned to tranquility. The small mound remained a small mound. But Tran Kien knew that something had been fundamentally, eternally altered.
The seed of hope had truly been sown.