The cave atop Mount Lam was pitch-black and unfathomably deep. The air within was not damp like ordinary caves; rather, it was dry, carrying an ancient, solemn aura that made one's soul involuntarily tremble in reverence.
Tran Kien walked in front, his footsteps steady, without the slightest hesitation. His courage and madness seemed to have infected even the Sixth Elder. The Azure Cloud Sect elder, a mighty expert at the peak of Foundation Establishment, gave a cold snort after a momentary daze and followed. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword, his divine sense spreading out in all directions, vigilant to the extreme. The handsome youth hurriedly tailed his master, his eyes holding both disdain and a trace of curiosity.
Uncle Sword and the other three stood outside, their heartstrings pulled taut. They could not fathom what Tran Kien intended to do. Inviting a tiger into his own home was no different from courting death.
When Tran Kien, the Sixth Elder, and his disciple had completely stepped into the darkness of the cave...
"BOOM!!!"
A dull, heavy sound, weighty as a thousand catties, suddenly resounded. At the cave entrance, where there had been no door, a massive stone door suddenly descended from above, slamming shut, completely severing the inner world from the outside. Upon the stone door, countless ancient Shamanic runes flared with brilliant light before extinguishing into nothingness.
"Not good!" Ly Tin cried out in shock, swinging his sword to strike. But his sword blade, upon touching the stone door, was like slashing into the void, passing straight through without causing any damage whatsoever.
"Don't waste your strength," Uncle Sword stopped him, his expression exceptionally solemn. "This is a spatial restriction. Once activated, unless the people inside walk out themselves, no one else can enter."
All they could do now was wait.
Inside the cave.
The darkness only existed for a fleeting moment. Immediately after the stone door closed, the surrounding space suddenly lit up.
They were no longer in a cramped cave. Surrounding them was a boundless expanse, twinkling with starlight, as if they were standing amidst a silver galaxy. Beneath their feet was not earth or stone, but a path paved with white jade, leading to an ancient altar suspended in mid-air.
Upon the altar sat a blurry, indistinct figure. The figure exuded no aura whatsoever, yet possessed a majesty that forced one to bow their head in submission.
"This... this is a 'Trial of the Heart'!" the Sixth Elder cried out in horror. He was a man of profound knowledge and instantly recognized this place. This was not a physical space, but a mental realm born of intent, a place used to test the minds and Dao hearts of Cultivators.
"Welcome, descendants," an ancient voice—not that of the Dragon Guardian, but a different voice, benevolent yet brimming with unquestionable might—echoed throughout the void. "I am but a remnant will of the last Shaman. I have been here, waiting for those qualified to inherit the legacy."
The blurry figure slowly raised a hand.
"This place does not test your cultivation base, nor does it measure your martial prowess. This place tests only one thing: the 'Heart'."
"You have come here, all for the Lac Viet Heritage. Then let me see what it is that you truly desire deep within your souls."
Having spoken, the blurry figure vanished.
The space surrounding the three suddenly distorted.
The handsome youth from the Azure Cloud Sect was the first to fall into the illusion. He found himself standing on the sect's tournament arena. Below, thousands of fellow disciples were chanting his name. His opponent was none other than Tran Kien. He easily crushed Tran Kien underfoot, winning the Sixth Elder's praise, and was taken in by the Sect Patriarch as a legacy disciple, his path forward boundlessly wide. The arrogance and jealousy in his heart had conjured the most beautiful of dreams. He immersed himself within it, a smug smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
Next was the Sixth Elder.
His illusion was even grander. He saw himself obtaining the entirety of the Lac Viet Heritage, comprehending the Lac Viet Heavenly Cycle Array. He used it to slay the Sect Patriarch, becoming the paramount leader of the Azure Cloud Sect. Then, he unified the entire Righteous Path, annihilated the Black Dragon Stronghold, and became the absolute overlord of all Thanh Province. Finally, he found the path to ascension, achieving eternal immortality. His boundless ambition and lust for power had twisted into an inescapable illusion. He stood there, tilting his head back to roar with laughter, completely lost to his desires.
Only Tran Kien remained.
He stood there, his eyes closed. He knew the trial had arrived. He did not resist. He opened his mind.
His illusion manifested.
It was not a scene of him becoming the supreme hegemon of the world. Nor was it a scene of him restoring the glory of Lac Viet.
It was incredibly ordinary.
He found himself in a small, cozy home. His father and mother, people he only vaguely remembered through scattered memories, were sitting there, smiling kindly at him. Lam Vy, no longer a burdened noble lady, wore ordinary clothes, happily setting the table for a warm meal. Elder Ve and Uncle Sword sat by a chessboard, carefree and at ease. There was no striving or scheming, no slaughter, no heavy burdens of responsibility. There was only peace and happiness.
This was... the deepest dream hidden within his heart.
A highly seductive voice whispered in his ear. "Enough, Tran Kien. You have done enough. You have taken your revenge; you have reclaimed the heritage. Now is the time to rest. Stay here, and enjoy the happiness you so rightfully deserve."
Tran Kien trembled slightly. His hands clenched into tight fists. This temptation was far more terrifying than any life-or-death crisis.
But then, he remembered his oath. He remembered the images of the starving and suffering mortals in King Hung's illusion. He remembered the pitch-black aura eroding the Dai Viet Dragon Vein belonging to the Marquis of Vinh An. He remembered the heavy responsibility entrusted to him by the ancestors.
"No," he muttered.
"This happiness is very beautiful," he said, his voice trembling yet incomparably resolute. "But it is not real. It is built upon evasion."
He snapped his eyes open. Within those eyes, there was no lingering attachment, only an iron-willed determination.
"If my own personal happiness must be exchanged for the suffering of the common people, if my peace must come at the cost of my ancestors' legacy fading into oblivion, then I," he roared, his voice echoing like thunder across the mental realm. "WOULD RATHER NOT HAVE IT!"
He drew his matte black saber.
Saber Intent—Hundred-Forged Heavenly Hammer!
He did not slash at any enemy.
He slashed directly at the illusion of happiness before him!
"CRACK!!!"
The peaceful world shattered like a fragile mirror. His parents, Lam Vy, Elder Ve, Uncle Sword... all transformed into fragments and vanished into the void.
The space returned to the twinkling brilliance of the silver galaxy.
The Sixth Elder and his disciple were still immersed in their respective dreams, completely oblivious to reality.
The blurry figure of the Shaman appeared once more upon the altar. This time, his voice held no strict majesty, but rather an overwhelming satisfaction and boundless joy.
"Excellent! What an excellent 'would rather not have it'! Your heart is not blinded by power, nor weakened by false happiness. You do not merely wish to inherit strength, but also to shoulder the weight of responsibility. Descendant, you..."
"...are completely worthy."
With those words, from the altar, a true path of light manifested—no longer an illusion—leading straight to an ancient stone door in the back. That door slowly opened, revealing a surge of draconic aura so pure and majestic it defied imagination.
The Heart of the Dragon was right behind that door.
And what of the Sixth Elder and his disciple? A beam of light shone down from the altar, enveloping them. Their figures slowly began to fade away.
"Those whose hearts are impure shall be banished from the holy land, and shall forget all they have seen here," the Shaman's voice echoed one last time. "This is the ancestors' final mercy upon you."
Tran Kien paid them no more mind.
He turned to look at the wide-open stone door.
He knew that his long journey had, at long last, reached its final destination.