The chessboard at Lam Kinh concluded faster than anyone could have imagined. Following the apocalyptic tail flick of the golden dragon, not a single faction dared to approach the peak of Mount Lam. News of the Dragon Vein's wrath, and of a mysterious inheritor of the Lac Viet heritage stepping into the world, swept through the cultivation realm of Thanh Province like a world-shaking hurricane, causing horrifying shockwaves.
Upon fleeing back to his sect in sheer panic, the Sixth Elder of the Azure Cloud Sect immediately entered secluded meditation, refusing to see anyone. At the same time, he issued a strict decree forbidding any disciple from stepping foot near Lam Kinh. The Black Dragon Stronghold suffered the most disastrous losses; not only had they lost two Vice Stronghold Masters, but nearly half of their elite experts had been wiped out. They were forced to temporarily pull back their forces and lick their wounds. The meticulous game of chess set up by the Marquis of Vinh An ultimately ended with his own pawns slaughtering each other, only to be completely swept away by an irresistible force.
Atop Mount Lam, after seeing off Ly Tin, Trinh Cong, and Lam Vy, only Tran Kien remained. The storm had passed, returning this sacred land to its inherent tranquility.
"Have you truly made your decision?" Uncle Sword, who had yet to depart, asked. His profound gaze rested on the youth before him. "You will not return to the imperial capital with us? With the recognition of the Dragon Vein and the backing of Duke Dingguo's Estate, your path would be much smoother."
"A path that is too smooth will only dull the edge of the blade," Tran Kien replied, his voice calm and steady. He had completely mastered his early Foundation Establishment cultivation base; his aura was fully restrained, making him look no different from an ordinary mortal. "The Marquis of Vinh An is like a venomous snake hiding in the royal court. I need enough strength to sever the snake's head with a single strike, not just slash its body and suffer a fatal counterattack. I need tempering."
Uncle Sword fell silent. He knew that this youth no longer needed his protection. He had his own path, his own goals, and the iron will to see them through.
"The City of Chaos is a place where dragons and snakes mingle, a land without laws," Uncle Sword offered his final words of advice. "There, the hearts of men are more sinister than the magical beasts in the deep forests. Remember this one thing: never reveal your true trump card unless it is a matter of life and death."
"Junior will engrave this in his heart," Tran Kien bowed his head. "Uncle Sword, take care!"
With that, he turned around without the slightest hesitation. His figure blended into the mountain's shadows and vanished into the dense forest.
Uncle Sword stood there, watching the boy's back until it completely disappeared. He let out a soft sigh, then smiled.
"With such an inheritor for the Lac Viet Heritage... perhaps the glorious era of the ancestors... is truly about to return."
Tran Kien's journey began.
This time, he was no longer prey on the run. He was a hunter seeking out new trials.
He did not travel fast. He skirted the edges of the Endless Mountain Range, heading north. As he walked, he cultivated, sensing the changes in Heaven and Earth.
After inheriting the Heart of the Dragon, his connection with the Dai Viet Dragon Vein deepened day by day. He could feel the "breath" of the earth beneath his feet. He knew where spiritual energy was abundant and where the land was barren. He could even sense the joys and sorrows of all creation. This comprehension allowed his "Heavenly Cycle Qi Guiding" technique to progress at an astonishing speed. The Primordial Chaos Qi within his body grew increasingly pure, and his Foundation Establishment Dao Foundation grew firmer by the day.
He also constantly tempered his saber arts. He didn't just practice forms; he used his saber to chop wood, to hunt magical beasts, to carve stone. His Saber Intent—the Hundred-Forged Heavenly Hammer—became increasingly restrained. Every strike he unleashed no longer carried heaven-shaking momentum, but rather an extreme, deadly precision. He was learning how to control his power, rather than letting the power control him.
After more than a grueling month of crossing forests and streams, a bizarre city finally appeared in the distance.
It was not as majestic as Thanh Province City, nor as solemn as Lam Kinh. It looked like a giant monster haphazardly cobbled together from countless fragments. Sections of the city walls were built from bluestone, others from red brick, and some were merely makeshift wooden palisades. There was no name plaque above the city gates; only the massive skull of a magical beast hung there, its empty eye sockets staring down at the flow of people entering and exiting.
This was the City of Chaos.
The air here was overflowing with chaos, violence, and a maddening sense of freedom. He watched a cultivator purchase a magical artifact, only to be immediately ambushed and robbed by another group; a bloody battle erupted right in the middle of the street. There were no city guards, no one to intervene. The strong lived, and the weak died. It was as simple as that.
Tran Kien pulled the hood of his cloak lower, concealing his face, and quietly blended into the crowd. He hadn't come here to cause trouble. He came to gather information, to temper himself, and to find a few things.
He made his way to the largest flea market in the city. Here, everything under the sun was sold: from magical artifacts, medicinal pills, and fragmented cultivation manuals, to objects of unknown origin excavated from ancient tombs.
As he was strolling, the Sun Spirit Guardian fragment within his robes suddenly let out a faint vibration.
Tran Kien froze. He immediately looked toward the source of the resonance.
At a dilapidated stall, a disheveled old man with a head of messy white hair and a long beard was selling a pile of scrap bronze. Among the items was a fragment shaped like a Lac bird, identical to Lam Vy's pottery shard, except this one was forged from green bronze.
Tran Kien's heart skipped a beat. Another fragment of the heritage!
But just as he was about to step forward, a large, meaty hand covered in gold rings beat him to it, snatching the fragment up.
"Old man, how much for this thing?" a gruff voice barked.
Tran Kien looked up. The speaker was a short, fat, middle-aged man in brocade robes, his face greasy, looking every bit the part of an arrogant nouveau riche. However, the aura radiating from his body was not weak in the least—he was at the peak of the Qi Condensation Realm.
"Fifty low-grade spirit stones, no bargaining," the old stall owner replied lazily.
"What? Fifty spirit stones for a piece of scrap bronze? Are you a bandit, old man?" the fat man glared.
Right at that moment, another cold voice rang out from behind Tran Kien.
"If he doesn't want it, I'll take it. I offer one hundred."
Tran Kien turned his head. The one who spoke was an emaciated youth in black robes, his eyes as gloomy and sinister as a venomous snake. His aura... belonged to the Black Dragon Stronghold!
A Lac Viet relic had just appeared, and it had instantly drawn the attention of two different powers.
Tran Kien frowned slightly. It seems this City of Chaos is far more interesting than I thought.
A new game of chess had already begun.