The pungent stench of blood still lingered in the air, mingling with the damp scent of earth and the mossy odor of the ancient banyan tree. The Luong Long waterside, originally bustling with noise and excitement, was now submerged in a deathly silence. The other merchant caravans hastily packed up, driving their horses and carriages away, not wanting to stay in this place of right and wrong for even a moment longer.
The corpse of the Black Panther Guard still lay there, the blood already beginning to dry and darken upon the ochre dirt. Not a single comrade of his came to clean it up; it seemed that to them, he was merely a broken tool, discarded without a shred of pity. This absolute ruthlessness and cold, iron discipline were the things that truly made one shudder.
Tran Kien and Van Tam Thong had returned to the encampment of the Van Bao Merchant Caravan. Van Tam Thong's complexion was incredibly heavy; he paced back and forth ceaselessly, his thick brows tightly knitted.
"This is troublesome," Van Tam Thong muttered. "The Black Dragon Stronghold has always acted with a purpose. Striking so viciously in broad daylight wasn't merely a show of force, but rather to send a message."
"What message?" Tran Kien asked, his gaze still fixed on the black caravan in the distance.
"A message that this waterside, this road, from this moment forth, falls under their jurisdiction," Van Tam Thong replied, his voice sinking. "Just now, they didn't merely kill a subordinate; they were 'clearing' the chessboard, declaring their absolute authority. The batch of goods they are escorting this time must be extremely important."
Tran Kien said nothing, but in his mind, thoughts were racing at lightning speed. Killing someone to establish dominance—an act that seemed like brute force without brains, but was actually a masterful chess move. It displayed their power while instilling fear, preventing other caravans from traveling the same route. This Old Demon Black Dragon was indeed not a simple character.
Exactly as Van Tam Thong had predicted, after most of the other caravans had departed, a Black Panther Guard from the black caravan approached them. Without a word, he threw a black wooden token onto the ground, carved with a silver centipede. It was an action that served as both a command and a bestowed favor: Scram, and be grateful that we haven't killed you.
The guards of the Van Bao caravan were all infuriated, their hands tightly gripping their weapons. But Van Tam Thong raised his hand to stop them. He knew that any conflict at this moment would only lead to a loss.
"Pack up our belongings, we are moving out," Van Tam Thong ordered.
But just as they prepared to roll out, the caravan of the Black Dragon Stronghold also began to move. They didn't forge ahead; instead, they moved slowly, maintaining a distance neither too far nor too close, parallel to the main road. This was no longer a warning; it was surveillance, a blatant act of provocation. They were like a pack of wolves silently stalking their prey—not pouncing immediately, but letting the prey feel the looming presence of death, slowly grinding away its will.
"They are probing," Tran Kien suddenly spoke up, his gaze sharp as a knife. "They want to see our reaction. If we speed up to flee, they will assume we are weak and attack immediately. If we stop to confront them, they will achieve their goal of instigating a conflict. Whichever path we choose, we will fall into a passive state."
"Then, in your opinion, what should we do?" Van Tam Thong nodded, his expression growing even gloomier.
Tran Kien looked at the map, then surveyed the surrounding terrain. He pointed to a small path branching off into a dense forest. "Where does this path lead?"
Van Tam Thong followed his finger and frowned slightly. "That is the old road, leading through a marshland called the 'Nightcry Swamp'. Legend has it that the miasma there is incredibly heavy, with many demonic beasts lurking within. For nearly a hundred years, no one has traveled through it. It is too dangerous."
"Precisely because it is dangerous, it might be our path to survival," Tran Kien stated decisively. "If we continue on the main road, we will sooner or later be intercepted and attacked. But if we suddenly turn into the Nightcry Swamp, their plan will be completely derailed. Furthermore, in a complex environment like a swamp, their large numbers and rigid formation will become a burden. Conversely, with fewer people, we will be more agile. On this chessboard, we must create a new chessboard of our own."
Van Tam Thong looked deeply into Tran Kien's eyes, shaken to his core. This decisiveness and strategic vision—it was truly unbelievable that it came from a fifteen-year-old youth. He took a deep breath, then issued the command: "Hear my order! Everyone, turn to the eastern path, advance into the Nightcry Swamp!"
This order shocked all the guards, but Van Tam Thong's prestige was deeply rooted in their hearts. Though they didn't understand, they obeyed immediately. The Van Bao caravan abruptly changed direction, abandoning the smooth main road and advancing onto the rugged dirt path.
Behind them, the Black Panther Guards' caravan also immediately came to a halt. Their commander, a figure clad in black armor with a crimson feather attached to his helm, raised his hand. He looked towards the gloomy forest the Van Bao caravan had just entered. Beneath his iron mask, his eyes narrowed, flashing with a cruel and intrigued light.
"Interesting. Not only does the prey not flee, but it dares to willingly jump into an even larger trap. Order the entire squad to follow closely. I want to see what tricks these merchants can play in that swamp."
A bloodless pursuit had begun. The very first formation Tran Kien truly had to face in his life was not a formation laid down by spiritual energy, but a strategic setup formed by human hearts and the terrain. And on this chessboard of life and death, the price for a single wrong move was not merely silver or gold, but the lives of everyone present.