"CRACK!!!"
The crisp, shattering sound of the colossal conch shell echoed throughout the strait, like a thunderclap marking the collapse of the Ghost Gates. The entire sound and illusion array blanketing the area instantly vanished. The phantoms of the Resentful Soul Archers let out one final shriek before transforming into grey smoke, dissipating into the air. The three colossal Black Water Profound Turtles, having lost the array's support, let out roars of unwillingness before slowly diving deep into the pitch-black seabed, vanishing without a trace.
The battle had ended. The black fleet successfully pierced through the second gate, advancing into the core waters of the Black Water Ghost Domain. Cheers of victory rose from the warships, but were quickly suppressed by an anxious silence.
Every gaze converged upon a single silhouette staggering upon the surface of the water.
"Pugh!"
Tran Kien coughed up another mouthful of fresh blood, his complexion as ashen as paper. His frame trembled violently, the Primordial Chaos Qi within his body as chaotic as a storm. He had successfully shattered the Array Heart, but the price paid was incredibly steep. The final soul attack from the conch shell, though mostly deflected by using his own soul, still left residual shockwaves that acted like ten thousand venomous needles, piercing deep into his Sea of Consciousness and causing his soul to agonize as if being torn apart.
"Tran Kien!"
A figure in green robes glided over like the wind, without a shred of hesitation, flying out from the flagship and gently catching his staggering form. It was Uncle Sword.
"You were too reckless," he said, his voice solemn. A remarkably gentle and pure Sword Intent transmitted from his palm, acting like a cool spring stream, slowly soothing Tran Kien's chaotic Divine Soul. "Injuries to the Divine Soul are no small matter. If not treated in time, they will leave permanent hidden perils."
"I am fine..." Tran Kien shook his head, a weak smile curling the corners of his mouth.
He was brought back to the flagship Lac Hong by Uncle Sword. The news of the Exalted Lord being injured instantly turned the celebratory atmosphere heavy. Thiet Phu, Ly Tin, and Old Whale hurried over, their eyes filled with worry.
"Exalted Lord!"
"I am fine," Tran Kien waved his hand, struggling to stand firm. He would not allow himself to appear weak before his army. "It is merely an over-expenditure of energy; a little rest will suffice. Pass down the command: inspect the damages and repair the ships. The true enemy still lies ahead."
The composure of their commander instantly steadied the hearts of the troops. The fleet did not linger for long. After a cursory cleanup, they continued forward.
The path beyond the Ghost Gates held no beguiling songs or colossal demonic turtles. There was only a deathly silence. The ink-black water, still as a mirror, held not a single ripple, yet harbored an indescribable peril.
As the fleet fully exited the strait, a colossal, pitch-black island standing tall amidst the sea completely revealed itself before their eyes.
The Sacred City.
It was far more majestic and terrifying than they had imagined. The entire island resembled a slumbering leviathan, forged from jet-black volcanic rock. There were no sandy beaches around the island, only sheer cliffs eroded by ocean waves into bizarre shapes. Atop those cliffs were no trees, but rather hundreds, thousands of colossal "Black Water Divine Cannons," their pitch-black, gloomy muzzles aimed directly at the sea, ready to unleash annihilating strikes at any moment. On the ocean surface surrounding the island, the two remaining Black Water Flood Dragons patrolled, their Golden Core Realm gazes cold and vicious.
And right in the center of the island, atop the highest peak, the black jade palace stood silent and mysterious, like the eye of a demon, coldly observing the intruders.
"This... this is not an island," Ly Tin, a general who had spent his life on the battlefield, muttered in horror. "This is a fortress! A flawlessly constructed military fortress!"
A frontal assault would be tantamount to suicide.
Within the cabin of the flagship Lac Hong, Tran Kien sat cross-legged; his face was still pale, but much more stable. Before him sat Uncle Sword, Old Whale, Thiet Phu, and Ly Tin. The atmosphere was incredibly solemn.
"The situation is clear," Tran Kien was the first to speak. "The enemy occupies all the geographical advantages. Our fleet cannot possibly approach the shore. Any frontal assault would merely be a suicide mission."
"Then what must we do?" Thiet Phu asked. "Should we lay siege and cut off their supplies?"
"Futile," Old Whale shook his head. "This island is self-sustaining. Furthermore, we do not have much time. The enemy has surely sent word back to the capital. The Marquis of Vinh An and the other factions will not sit idly by."
Everyone sank back into silence. They had reached a dead end.
At that exact moment, Tran Kien offered a faint smile. "Everyone," he said, his voice calm. "Have you ever heard of the stratagem 'Using oneself as bait to lure the dragon from its lair'?"
Everyone was stunned.
"Does the Exalted Lord mean..."
"Indeed," Tran Kien nodded, a mad decisiveness flashing in his eyes. "The strongest enemy is the mysterious master of the Sacred City. But he also has a weakness. His greatest weakness is his arrogance, and his covetous desire for the Lac Viet legacy upon my body."
"I," he said, "shall infiltrate the island alone."
"ABSOLUTELY NOT!" The other four objected in unison. "Exalted Lord, you are injured! Doing so is no different from throwing your life away!"
"This is the only way," Tran Kien said resolutely. "My appearance on the island will be the ultimate provocation to him. A dragon will never allow an ant to crawl into its territory. He will definitely not be able to sit still; he will personally lead his most elite experts out to capture me."
"And once the dragon has left its lair," he looked toward Uncle Sword and the other three. "Its nest will be at its most vulnerable."
"Your mission is not to attack the coastal fortresses. It is to exploit that very moment to use your maximum speed to infiltrate the palace atop the mountain! Your objective is not to kill. It is to destroy the main Array Heart controlling the island's entire defensive system! As long as you destroy it, those Black Water Divine Cannons will be nothing more than a pile of scrap iron!"
An incredibly audacious plan. A life-and-death gamble. Using himself as bait to forge an opportunity for his comrades.
"But..."
"No 'buts'," Tran Kien stood up. "This is a command."
He gave no one the chance to argue further. He exited the cabin and stood at the prow.
Lam Vy was already standing there, having waited for him for some time. She said nothing, merely silently handing him her Lac bird token. "My mother said it can protect the one it acknowledges."
Tran Kien accepted it, giving a faint nod. "Rest assured. I will return."
With that, he did not use a small skiff. He merely took a single step. His frame, like a falling leaf, gently landed upon the ink-black sea, gliding across the water without a single ripple toward the death-filled island. A solitary figure, facing an entire fortress.
Atop the Sacred City, within the black jade palace. The mysterious master sat upon a throne forged of white bone, coldly observing everything through a water mirror.
"Foolishness, or confidence?" his ancient voice echoed. "It matters not. Once you set foot upon this island, your soul... shall belong to me."