The moment Tran Kien's hand touched the cold surface of the bronze drum, the entirety of the colossal Crystal Palace seemed to grind to a halt. The flow of time, of space, and of Spiritual Qi—all of it froze in a single, sacred instant.
"OMMM...M...M...M!!!"
A deep, resonant drumbeat—struck by no human hand, but echoing on its own accord from the very depths of history's soul—rang out. This drumbeat carried no killing intent; instead, it bore the tragic, heroic majesty of a people who had spent thousands of years building and defending their nation.
A blinding light erupted from the bronze drum, completely enveloping Tran Kien. It was not golden, nor was it azure. It was a primordial, chaotic color.
Old Whale was shoved far away by a gentle yet irresistible force, left only to gaze in horror at the scene unfolding before him.
Within the light, Tran Kien felt no pain. He felt as though he had melted, fusing into one with the bronze drum, and with an entire civilization.
Tens of thousands, millions of images, memories, and profound knowledge that did not belong to him surged into his Divine Soul like a torrential flood.
He saw the image of the Hung Kings standing atop the peak of Mount Nghia Linh, looking down upon their brocade-like lands and rivers. He saw the greatest Shamans observing Heaven and Earth, the stars, and creating earth-shattering array formations.
He saw the tales of the "extraordinary individuals," exceptional people who had forged history. He saw Ly Ong Trong, possessing a body of copper and skin of iron, his prestige shaking the entire North. He saw Tu Dao Hanh, an enlightened Zen Master capable of shedding his mortal coil for reincarnation, utilizing Buddhist Dharma to deliver all sentient beings. He even saw heroines like Ba Trieu, riding an elephant into battle, her heroic spirit piercing the heavens.
This was not merely the inheritance of an array formation. This was the inheritance of a nation's very "Soul"! The entirety of its history, culture, indomitable spirit, strategic wisdom, and even the agonies and prides of the Lac Viet people spanning thousands of years, in this very instant, were all fused into his soul.
The Primordial Chaos Qi within his body, guided by this monumental stream of knowledge, began to circulate on its own along a completely new trajectory—the flawless trajectory of the Lac Viet Heavenly Cycle Array.
The Core: Solar Essence Guardian was no longer just a mark upon his forehead. It had fused with his Dao Foundation, transforming his chaotic Golden Core into a miniature sun, radiating a light that was luminous, righteous, and indomitable.
The Middle Layer: Hundred Viet Coral fused into his bloodline. Every single drop of blood, every single muscle fiber brimmed with vitality, carrying the creative will and diligence of farmers and craftsmen.
And the Outer Layer: Unhindered Lac Feathers merged with his Divine Sense, causing his soul to become free and ethereal, capable of effortlessly harmonizing with Heaven and Earth, and all creation.
"BOOOOOOMMMMM!!!"
His cultivation base, having already condensed a Golden Core, erupted once more!
Early Golden Core Realm! Peak Early Golden Core Realm! Mid Golden Core Realm!
Terrifying power flooded every inch of his body. Yet Tran Kien did not lose his way. His state of mind, having experienced the journey of an entire nation, had long since transcended the scope of an ordinary cultivator. He resembled a sovereign emperor, calmly accepting the return of power that rightfully belonged to him.
When the final stream of light fused into his body, Tran Kien slowly opened his eyes.
Within his eyes, there was no longer the composure of a youth. There was the vicissitude and wisdom of one who had lived through thousands of years of history.
He said nothing. He merely reached out and gently patted the surface of the drum.
The colossal bronze drum, having completed its mission of inheritance, began to vibrate, and then slowly, very slowly... transformed into countless specks of light, dissipating into the air. It was no longer a tangible object. It had become a part of Tran Kien.
"Descendant," the voice of the Shaman rang out for the final time, feeble yet utterly serene. "Our mission has ended. The path ahead, you must walk alone. Remember: protect, do not destroy. Create, do not conquer. Use this power to bring peace to the common people..."
The voice slowly faded away.
"Rumble... rumble... rumble..."
The entirety of the grand Crystal Palace began to shake violently. Cracks appeared on the crystal dome above. The coral palaces began to collapse. The sanctuary, having fulfilled its final purpose, was also nearing its end.
"Move, quickly!" Old Whale roared.
Tran Kien showed no fear. He looked at his companion, then smiled faintly.
"There is no need to run."
He merely gave his sleeve a light flick. An invisible force, gentle yet irresistible, enveloped them both. The space around them distorted. In a mere blink of an eye, they had vanished from the collapsing palace, reappearing on the deck of the black ship.
Outside, the entire Crystal Palace was slowly sinking to the bottom of the sea, returning to dust. The Sea Dragon Guards aboard the ship watched the scene in terror.
Tran Kien did not look back. He merely raised his head, gazing toward the distant expanse of the sea.
"Weigh anchor," he commanded, his voice placid yet carrying an undeniable majesty. "We return."