"Come forth and meet your end!"
Tran Kien's roar, carrying a righteous and luminous battle-will that remained untainted by the sky-piercing maleficence, reverberated throughout the Black Water Ghost Domain. He was no longer the hunted prey; he had overturned the chessboard and become the hunter.
In the heavens, Uncle Sword and the Master of the Sacred City were locked in a confrontation, their staggering momentum causing space itself to warp and twist. Below upon the sea, the Blood Fiend Guards and Sea Dragon Guards, led by Thiet Phu, were frantically slaughtering the three heavily wounded Black Water Flood Dragons. The entire battlefield had tilted decisively to one side.
The Master of the Sacred City—the black-robed old man—witnessed this scene, and his eerily smooth face finally contorted with true rage. He knew his plan of encirclement and annihilation had utterly collapsed.
"Excellent! Bravo for a descendant of Lac Viet!" he bellowed, his voice vibrating directly within the Divine Soul. "But do you truly believe that with a few petty schemes and a single Sword Cultivator, you can triumph over my Sacred Dynasty?"
He no longer paid any heed to Uncle Sword. He knew that the true enemy, the greatest threat, was Tran Kien. His figure flickered, breaking free from Uncle Sword's lock, and he lunged toward Tran Kien like a hawk swooping down upon a rabbit.
"Your opponent is me!" Uncle Sword roared, preparing to give chase.
"Uncle Sword!" Tran Kien cried out. "This is my battle! Please, have faith in me!"
He glanced toward the fleet.
"Thiet Phu! Unleash everything to eradicate those vile beasts! Leave nothing behind!"
He intended to stand alone, facing a mid-stage Golden Core expert in a direct confrontation!
Uncle Sword froze, but seeing the absolute confidence and indomitable will within Tran Kien's eyes, he ceased his pursuit. He trusted this boy.
Tran Kien took a deep breath. The Primordial Chaos Qi within his chaotic Golden Core surged like a torrential river. He had no intention of defending. He charged forward to meet the most powerful foe he had ever faced.
"Arrogant!" The black-robed old man sneered. He raised a withered hand, and countless phantoms and resentful wraiths from the previous river of resentment manifested once more, forming a colossal demonic hand that clawed down toward Tran Kien.
"Myriad Soul Heaven-Devouring Hand!"
Yet, facing such wicked demonic arts, Tran Kien merely let out a cold laugh. He did not use saber techniques; he used an array.
"Lac Viet Heavenly Cycle Array — Core: Solar Essence Guardian!"
He needed no bronze drum, nor did he need to lay a foundation. He used himself as the Array Heart! The sun-star mark on his forehead erupted with a magnificent golden halo. An illusory sun, carrying a righteous and luminous aura, manifested behind his back, radiating infinite light.
The moment the colossal demonic hand touched the solar radiance, it let out a marrow-chilling shriek. Incalculable resentful souls within were purified, and the black miasma disintegrated like snow meeting a blazing sun. Before the demonic hand could even reach Tran Kien, its power had been weakened by more than seventy percent.
"BREAK!" Tran Kien roared.
He swung the Lac Hong Saber, delivering a slash imbued with his Saber Intent — A Thousand Hammers, A Hundred Refinements. The golden saber-qi, overbearing and unstoppable, easily cleaved the weakened demonic hand into pieces.
"How can this be?!" The black-robed old man was horrified. "You... you have already fully inherited the legacy?"
He did not know that after inheriting the totality of knowledge within the Crystal Palace, Tran Kien's enlightenment regarding the Lac Viet Heavenly Cycle Array had reached a brand-new realm. He was now capable of unleashing a portion of its true, primordial might.
"Today," Tran Kien spoke, his voice as sharp as clashing iron, "I shall use the true legacy of my ancestors to wash away the defilement of a traitor like you!"
He gave his opponent no opening. His frame moved like a phantom as he lunged. This time, he did not use only one layer of the array.
"Unhindered Lac Feathers!"
His movement technique suddenly became ethereal and unpredictable, like soaring Lac birds. Hundreds, thousands of his afterimages manifested simultaneously, attacking the old man from every conceivable direction. Each shadow swung a blade carrying the tempering will of the forge.
"Mere parlor tricks!" the old man bellowed. He could not distinguish between the real and the false. He could only channel his full demonic power to form a dense shield of black qi, enveloping his entire body.
But in that exact moment, the true Tran Kien appeared silently right above his head.
"Hundred Viet Coral!"
He did not slash; he thrust. A downward strike from above. Yet the tip of the blade carried no killing intent. Instead, it bore an overwhelming surge of vitality, like a seed bursting into life.
This was his newest enlightenment. Power was not merely for destruction; it was for creation, for life! To sinister and yin-cold demonic arts, this pure surge of vitality was the most fatal of poisons!
Puchi!
The tip of the Lac Hong Saber easily pierced through the shield of black qi, stabbing straight into the crown of the black-robed old man's head.
"NOOOOOOOO!!!"
The old man let out one final shriek of despair. The demonic arts within him, upon being invaded by that pure surge of vitality, completely collapsed into chaos. His body, which had been sustained for a millennium, began to disintegrate—not into destruction, but into "transcendence."
"Descendant of Lac Viet..." a final sliver of his consciousness echoed. "You have won... but do not celebrate too early... the Sacred Dynasty... shall never... disappear..."
With those words, his body turned entirely to ash, vanishing into the air. All that remained was a pitch-black Golden Core, covered in cracks, which fell toward the sea.
Tran Kien caught the demonic core and, without hesitation, used his Primordial Chaos Qi to seal it.
Simultaneously, the battle below concluded. The three Black Water Flood Dragons were finally slain by the Blood Fiend and Sea Dragon Guards under the command of Uncle Sword and Thiet Phu.
Tran Kien descended onto the black ship, his face slightly pale. A grand battle had finally reached its end.
He looked toward the island of the Sacred City, now masterless, and then toward the distant mainland. He knew this was not the end. When one Master of the Sacred City fell, others would surely appear. The game with the Sacred Dynasty had only just truly begun.
But he was no longer afraid. For he knew he was not alone. He had comrades who believed in him, and the magnificent legacy of an entire nation standing behind him.
"Clear the battlefield," he commanded, his voice now bearing the true majesty of a sovereign. "We... return."