The north wind in Tran Bac City continued to howl, carrying the biting chill of the border and the lingering scent of extinguished war-fires. Yet the one who should have remained to bask in the glory of victory had, like a phantom, silently vanished into the night, leaving not a single trace.
Tran Kien did not travel south. That route held too many eyes, ears, and snares. Following the secret patrol routes of the Tran Bac Army, he headed west, beginning a ten-thousand-li journey toward the southwest—toward the mystical Seven Mountains.
This was no longer an escape. This was a journey with a purpose.
He did not travel with haste. He moved like a true wandering martial artist, sometimes walking, sometimes hitching rides on merchant caravans. He no longer concealed his identity to an extreme degree. He displayed an aura of the early Foundation Establishment Realm—just enough to deter those with ill intent from causing trouble, but not prominent enough to attract the attention of major factions.
The journey lasted for three entire months. For Tran Kien, these three months were a process of settling the mind and undergoing a second metamorphosis.
He passed through bustling cities and prosperous villages. He didn't just walk; he observed and listened. He heard the common folk speak of their lives and daily worries. He saw how the political power struggle in the capital had begun to affect even these distant lands. Taxes grew heavier; officials grew more tyrannical. In his heart, the responsibility of the inheritor of the Dragon Veins grew even heavier.
He also cultivated ceaselessly. Every night, whether in a dilapidated inn or a desolate forest, he meditated. The Primordial Chaos Qi within his body grew increasingly pure; his Foundation Establishment Dao Foundation grew increasingly stable. He did not attempt to break through; he compressed, compressed, and compressed further. He wanted his foundation to be so solid that nothing could shake it.
He did not use the Army-Breaker Saber gifted by Mong Phong. He only used his own matte-black saber. He wasn't merely practicing saber techniques; he was "nurturing" the saber. He used his very state of mind, his very will, to fuse with the blade, making it a part of his soul.
After three grueling months, the surrounding scenery had completely changed. Gone was the aridity of the north, replaced by the lush, prosperous greenery of the south. The air was warm and humid, carrying the scent of rivers and fruit trees.
He had arrived at the region of the Seven Mountains.
The Seven Mountains (Thất Sơn) was a highly unique mountainous region. The seven peaks were not overly tall, but they stood majestic and imposing amidst a vast plain, like seven divine generals guarding the land. Legend had it that the spiritual qi here was abundant, making it the secluded sanctuary of countless extraordinary individuals and strange hermits who cared not for worldly affairs.
Tran Kien sought out the largest town at the foot of the mountains, named "Seven Mountains Town" (Thất Sơn Trấn). The population here was not solely Dai Viet people; there were also Champa and Khmer inhabitants, creating an incredibly diverse and unique culture.
He found an inn and settled there. He did not rush up the mountain. He knew that in mystical places like this, clues were rarely found on the peaks; they were hidden within the stories of the common folk at the base.
He spent a week lingering in teahouses, places where old farmers and hunters gathered. He did not ask directly about the "Sacred Dynasty." He only listened.
And he heard it.
"Have you all heard?" an old hunter lowered his voice, his face full of fear. "Strange things have been happening atop Forbidden Mountain (Cấm Sơn) lately. For the past few nights, exactly at the hour of the Rat (midnight), an eerie emerald-green light has been shining from the peak, and the faint sound of sutra chanting can be heard."
"It's just those Daoists from the 'Sacred Gate,' isn't it?" another interjected. "They appeared in this region about a year ago. They claim to be from the legendary 'Sacred Dynasty,' saying they came here to reclaim the sacred sanctuary of their ancestors. They heal the sick and the poor, and they've punished a few tyrannical landlords, so many ignorant folks believe in them."
Sacred Gate! Sacred Dynasty!
Tran Kien's heart gave a fierce throb. He had found the right place!
"But," the old hunter continued, his voice trembling, "things have been strange lately. A few young hunters from the village went up the mountain out of curiosity, and none have returned. Some say they saw them being captured by the people of the Sacred Gate and taken into a secret cave on the peak."
A perfect facade. Using good deeds to win the hearts of the people, while committing shady acts in the shadows. This was exactly the modus operandi of hypocrites.
Tran Kien listened no further. He had obtained all the information he needed. He quietly placed a few copper coins on the table and left the teahouse.
That night.
Tran Kien did not remain in the town. Alone, with a single saber, he silently headed toward the highest, most majestic peak in the Seven Mountains range.
Forbidden Mountain.
The nocturnal mountain breeze swept through the dense forests, carrying the rustling of leaves and the chirping of insects. The moonlight was obscured by the thick canopy, making the mountain path even more gloomy and eerie.
Tran Kien moved like a phantom. The Primordial Chaos Qi within his body was restrained to the absolute minimum. He did not take the worn trails. He scaled the cliffs, taking paths only apes could traverse.
As he neared the peak, he suddenly halted.
He sensed it. There was an array formation ahead. A simple beguilement array, but deployed with exquisite skill, perfectly harmonizing with the natural terrain. An ordinary person walking in would only walk in circles, never finding the exit.
Tran Kien merely smiled coldly. To him, the inheritor of the complete Lac Viet Heavenly Cycle Array, this low-grade Soul-Beguiling Array was no different from child's play.
He did not break the array. Doing so would "beat the grass to startle the snake."
He simply slipped through the weakest array nodes, without making a sound, stepping inside.
After passing through the array, an open clearing appeared. Right in the center was a pitch-black cave, its depths unfathomable. Guarding the entrance were two men in grey robes holding swords. Both exuded the aura of the late Qi Condensation Realm.
And from within the cave, a familiar, Yin-cold aura seeped out, accompanied by the monotonous chanting of sutras.
It was indeed them.
Tran Kien did not rush in. He quietly concealed himself within a bush, completely restraining his aura.
He was waiting. Waiting for the optimal moment. Waiting to see exactly what ghostly tricks this so-called "Sacred Gate" was playing. The dagger had, once again, been drawn, ready to deliver a fatal strike.