Behold! Du Chen, the Divine!

Du Chen gazed at Dus, his surprise palpable. "You can assume the form of *another* individual? Are you not my singular embodiment? How can you possibly mimic someone else's visage? Preposterous!"

Dus's chiseled lips stretched into a lopsided grin, a stiff, almost foolish smile that seemed utterly out of place on his exceptionally handsome face—a countenance unrivaled in its comeliness. "Indeed, I am certain! I can assuredly assume the form of *that* person!"

"Who else might you manifest as?" Du Chen pressed, eagerness lacing his tone. "Could it be Master Grape?!"

Dus tossed his head with an air of smug triumph. "The one I can *also* become is... Du Chen!"

*Thwack!* Du Chen landed a swift palm strike upon Dus's forehead, inexplicably flattening his head. Yet, Dus merely chuckled, a foolish grin spreading across his face, and with a puff of air, reinflated his skull back to its perfect spherical shape. The sight was undeniably uncanny!

"Dus, we are discussing matters of grave importance; cease this prevarication! How can transforming into *me* be considered adopting the form of *another*? Do you take me for a simpleton?!" Du Chen rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"Hmph, you dolt!" Dus retorted, his tone sharp. "I *can* truly become Du Chen... *the* Du Chen!" He stressed the latter name with such profound conviction that his Divine Sense vibrated through Du Chen's mind, leaving his head buzzing.

Du Chen... a sudden realization struck Du Chen like a bolt of lightning, and he understood the profound implications of Dus's words.

Ah, so Dus could indeed manifest his form from a past life! Of course, the very essence of a clone is derived from its progenitor, yet Du Chen possessed *two* distinct visages. One was Francis, his current identity; the other, etched into his very soul, was the legendary thief of his previous existence—the most exalted, the most peerless... thief!

Dus continued, "Do you comprehend now, my somewhat naive Mister Francis? I can embody Du Chen, not merely Francis, whose vessel was once usurped!"

"Hurry! Attempt the transformation at once!" Du Chen urged, his voice laced with unbridled eagerness.

Dus slowly raised his hands, his movements stiff and agonizingly deliberate. His fingers, like sculptors' tools, kneaded at his own face, and his form began its subtle metamorphosis. From a pristine white, his skin gradually deepened to a rich, familiar bronze—a hue both intimate and potent to Du Chen. Simultaneously, his flowing golden hair receded, transforming into a cascade of short, dark, curly locks...

Moments later, a figure materialized before him, one whose very presence sent a tremor through Du Chen's core!

Standing a full seven feet, his limbs were long and exquisitely proportioned, his physique robust and powerful. His palms were delicate and smooth, soft as unblemished jade, yet with knuckles subtly more pronounced than an average man's—a testament to his unparalleled genius within the Clandestine Circles. His chest boasted chiseled pectorals and a formidable eight-pack, each muscle sharply defined, protruding without a hint of ostentation—the undeniable fruit of perpetual, rigorous training. From behind, his musculature appeared almost seamlessly integrated, flowing from his broad shoulders in an unbroken, natural cascade all the way to his inner knees—the epitome of perfection, a living embodiment of the Clandestine Circles' Secret Technique.

Bronze-hued skin, a torso coiled with explosive, primal strength...

His former master, a luminary of the Clandestine Circles from his past life, once quipped, "Du Chen, should you ever err within the hallowed halls of an art museum, immediately shed your raiment and assume a pose upon a pedestal. The responding guards, witnessing your form, will undoubtedly mistake your physique for a masterpiece of sculptural art and proceed to search elsewhere..."

In that moment, Du Chen chuckled, though his mirth quickly soured into a wry, self-deprecating smile—he had recalled the latter half of his master's jest: "...*provided*, of course, that the guards do not glimpse your face, haha!"

A cascade of thick, dark, curly hair framed a face marked by heavy brows, wide-set eyes, and a prominent nose. In essence, while his past life's countenance was far from unsightly, it possessed an undeniable ordinariness, easily lost amidst a bustling crowd—a stark, almost comical mismatch for his divinely sculpted physique.

"Fortuitous it is, that in this current life, I possess a visage of pleasing aesthetics!" Du Chen mused, one hand stroking his own face, the other caressing Dus's. After a moment of poignant reflection, a spark of inspiration ignited within him, and he exclaimed urgently, "Dus, there is one crucial directive you *must* engrave upon your being..."

"From this day forth, whenever you assume the guise of my past self, you shall be known as Du Chen! The paramount deity of the Divine Faith, the very embodiment of Guiding Towards Goodness... *Du Chen, the Divine*!" With a decisive motion, Du Chen plucked a lock of golden hair from his own shoulder, severed it with a blade of condensed ice, and affixed it to Dus's head, subtly altering his appearance to better align with the prevalent aesthetic of the Battle God World.

"Furthermore, you shall also embody that formidable titan who, with but a single strike upon Mount Tianshan, thwarted Philip's Detonation, and the very individual who, within the Auerbach Grand Canyon, subjugated the Composite Aberrant Beasts with a mere utterance..."

"Understood, then! From this day forward, I am *Du Chen, the Divine*!?" Dus responded with an air of nonchalance, then, in a languid drawl, added, "Since I am, by nature, indestructible, consider all your past burdens and misdeeds absorbed into my being!"

***

Perhaps it was the assurance Bairu had offered on the Pontiff's behalf, but that night, the four white-robed women did not return to cause trouble. The following morning, Du Chen emerged from the Precious Lotus Scripture, cradling Beibei. Standing by the window, he observed that while white clouds still drifted near Turco Port, they lacked a certain splendor—the ethereal Cloud Banner had vanished!

"They ran away! The bad people took all those poor sisters and ran!" Beibei complained from Du Chen's arms, gazing up at him with a pout. "Papa said if they tried to steal Beibei, Papa would steal *everything* from their whole family and leave them with bare bottoms!" The little one pounded on Du Chen's chest, her lips pursed. "Beibei doesn't want that old hag's belongings anymore. Papa, can you just steal back all those poor sisters instead?"

Du Chen gently patted his daughter, his gaze fixed on the direction where the Cloud Banner had once flown. A loving smile graced his lips. "My darling, 'Cast a long line to catch a big fish!' Do you remember that saying I taught you in our mother tongue?"

The little one nodded, her large eyes blinking mischievously. A wicked grin spread across her face. "Beibei knows! That saying means the same as the one in beastmen tongue—'The swine of Long Whip Pasture are not yet ready for the feast, for they are not fat enough!'"

"Indeed, my treasure, you are truly brilliant! And utterly adorable!" Du Chen chuckled warmly, gently pinching her nose. "Then Papa shall teach you another saying: 'A master strategist achieves victory in a single, decisive stroke!'"

"Mm-hmm, Beibei understands! This saying means a clever thief steals only once, but that one theft leaves the victim haunted forever! Right, Papa?"

Du Chen's smile softened further into one of profound affection, a thought blooming in his mind: for this little imp, the ancient adage, 'to embrace a scoundrel as a paternal figure,' was surely coined with her specifically in mind...

"Brother, the vessel is prepared! We may embark!" Mas's booming voice shattered the idyllic moment of father-daughter bonding.

Ever since the Eye of Heaven Forest on Silvermoon Island had devolved into a frigid battleground between the Papal Curia and the Dragon Clan, all adjacent maritime routes had been summarily sealed by two great and noble deities. Now, only the solitary route from Turco Port remained open to Silvermoon Island. Yet, even this sole passage was starkly deserted. Across the azure expanse, only two golden three-masted schooners, separated by a mere ten nautical miles, cleaved through the waves.

The leading vessel, adorned with a billowing white cloud, was Bairu's conveyance, awaiting the arrival of the Divine Envoys. The trailing ship, naturally, was Mas's, brought forth to welcome Du Chen.

Du Chen, cradling his daughter, stood on the deck, ostensibly admiring the seascape. In truth, his eyes were keenly fixed on the Divine Envoys' ship, which had departed Turco Port ahead of them. Nearby, Andy lay sprawled on the deck, lost in slumber, while Deboning stood sentinel beneath the mast, arms crossed. His eyes were half-closed, his entire being radiating a chilling aura, cold as a slab of frozen steel, as if at any moment he might shatter into an explosion of deadly, icy shrapnel.

Not far from the main mast, Mas covertly observed Deboning. He couldn't fathom it; he had encountered this formidable expert over a year ago on Mount Tianshan. Even then, Deboning had far surpassed him in skill, yet his presence had never before instilled such a profound sense of dread, preventing Mas from even meeting his gaze directly.

What cataclysmic transformation had wrought such immense advancement in such a remarkably brief span of time!?

Deboning, naturally aware of Mas's scrutiny, allowed a cold smirk to ghost across his lips, his aura intensifying further. Yet, inwardly, he recalled his young master's directive: "Deboning, once we depart Turco Port, you need not restrain yourself. Unleash an aura comparable to that of a Titled Battle God. The more potent your display, the greater leverage I shall possess in my negotiations with the Pontiff!"

"The guiding principle for this expedition to the Eye of Heaven Forest is to remain courteous and principled, yet absolutely unyielding! For we represent *Du Chen, the Divine*!"

As these thoughts coursed through his mind, Deboning suddenly perceived a violent fluctuation of aura emanating from the southeastern sky. His gaze flickered to his young master at the ship's bow. Du Chen, already alerted by Beibei, lifted his head slightly, his eyes sweeping across the heavens.

One red, one blue, one green!

The clouds in the sky churned and parted, and from the dissipated white expanse, three colossal dragons, each dozens of meters in length, descended!

These three behemoths soared from the direction of Silvermoon Island, their powerful wings scattering clouds as they advanced. Yet, as they neared the Divine Envoys' vessel, they paused abruptly, offering a curious nod of acknowledgment. Then, they split into two formations, deftly circumventing the Cloud Banner, before charting a direct course towards Du Chen's ship!

Du Chen did not recognize these three gargantuan beasts, but Beibei, nestled in his arms, offered a swift identification: "Papa, those are the three Mother Tyrant Dragons from the Misty Forest!"

"The Dragon Clan, already!?" Du Chen exclaimed, turning to call out, "Brook, temper your aura! It would be most impolitic to startle these three ladies!"

If these esteemed ladies were to be frightened witless, how could Du Chen possibly discern their true intentions?

In response to his command, the crimson dragon glided gracefully from the heavens. As it alighted upon the deck, it shed its monstrous form, revealing an uncomely woman in the midst of draping herself with a scarlet veil. It was none other than Jennifer, the eldest of the three sisters!

"Francis, it has been an eternity!" Jennifer greeted, her previous familial warmth replaced by an expression of domineering arrogance.

"Mistress Jennifer's 'visage remains as captivating as ever'!" Du Chen quipped with a sardonic smile. "To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit, Mistress? This vessel, you see, is the Pontiff's welcoming golden sails!"

"What in the blazes else could it be!?" Mas bellowed, striding forward, his eyes blazing with fury at Jennifer. "By the Ancestors, what in the infernal depths is the Dragon Clan's meaning?! Did we not reach an accord? Until the cessation of the Five Battles Pact, neither side was to—"

"Mas, bridle your tongue!" Jennifer interrupted, her voice seething with indignation. She pointed accusingly at Du Chen. "He is a suspect of our Dragon Clan! I shall escort him back to face the judgment of my Divine Lord!"

"Hmph, that's utter bluster!" Mas retorted. Though he had been meek before the Divine Envoys due to circumstances, that did not mean he feared the Dragon Clan. He raged, "His Holiness the Pontiff has already reached an agreement with the Dragon God! Neither of our factions is to lay a hand on Francis before he sets foot on Silvermoon Island! And once within Silvermoon Island's waters, Francis must first present himself before His Holiness the Pontiff!"

Du Chen inwardly chuckled at the revelation. How intriguing! Before he even arrived, the Pontiff and the Dragon God had already forged an agreement, effectively carving him up between them!

Jennifer offered a haughty smile. "Mas, when that agreement was struck, you neglected to mention that *those* Divine Envoys would also be journeying to the Eye of Heaven Forest! Now, your Pontiff has welcomed the Divine Envoys as guests into the Eye of Heaven Forest, and thus, *my* Divine Lord has also spoken... if Sama IX intends to intimidate him by invoking the name of that particular deity, then so be it! The previous accord regarding Francis is hereby rendered null and void! I, Samuel, am no monarch who shies from conflict!"

She planted her hands on her hips and pointed imperiously at Du Chen. "We shall not impede the Divine Envoys. However, Francis *must* first accompany me to an audience with His Majesty the Dragon God!"