A Pact of Three Strikes: I Do Not Wish to Injure You!

Under the Silver Moon's Retreat, the myriad stars glittered with exceptional brilliance. The cloudless night sky shimmered with a profound beauty, its twinkling starlight bathing Silvermoon Island. Even the dense canopy of the Eye of Heaven Forest could not fully impede the celestial glow, allowing it to carpet the very earth.

The starlight, spilt upon the soil and fallen leaves, flowed with an almost sentient grace, dancing as it converged towards the very heart of the Eye of Heaven Forest – the Silver Moon's Illusion within Moon Lake. The luminous moonlight, already having surged from the lakebed at twilight, now cast its vibrant glow upon the temporary gold-and-iron platform erected upon the water. Surrounding this arena, hundreds of colossal dragons roared, while over a thousand black-armored Battle Gods stood in solemn array. A palpable aura of killing intent permeated the air, suffocating all present.

For over three hours, the Papal Curia and the Dragon Clan had been locked in a tense standoff, south and north, their swords drawn and ready. Yet, tonight's principal figures – the Dragon God and Du Chen, the Divine – remained conspicuously absent.

Upon his Golden Palanquin, the Pontiff stood tall, his placid voice echoing throughout the Eye of Heaven Forest, naturally reaching the ears of Thorog, who stood atop a colossal golden dragon on the opposite shore of Moon Lake. “Midnight, the hour of ultimate battle, approaches in but a quarter-hour,” the Pontiff’s voice resonated. “Why does the Dragon God still not show himself?”

“Hoo! Hah!” *Thump-thump!* In response to the Pontiff’s words, the serried ranks of warriors, arrayed in a fan-like formation with its apex directed at Moon Lake, rhythmically struck their chests with their sacred artifacts. The unified clangor of the artifacts underscored the divine majesty represented by these gods-among-men.

“Awooo…” From the opposing side, the Dragon Clan responded without an ounce of weakness, their roars unifying into a sky-shattering crescendo. Thorog laughed heartily. “His Holiness the Pontiff, has not Du Chen, the Divine, also failed to appear? Worry not, for His Majesty shall surely arrive at midnight. Rather, I question if *your* Du Chen, the Divine, has grown fearful of battle?”

The Pontiff offered no reply, merely casting a side-long glance at Du Chen, who accompanied the Golden Palanquin. *‘Indeed, why is Du Chen, the Divine, still absent!?’* a thought crossed his mind. *‘Francis, I have granted you full authority to manage this duel, and I shall not question your strategies. However, do not, under any circumstances, disappoint me this night. Else…’*

Du Chen offered a slight bow, saluting the Pontiff, then declared in a clear, resonant voice, “Hmph, Elder Thorog possesses truly keen eyesight. Du Chen, the Divine, has *already* arrived! Do you not perceive him!?”

This declaration sent ripples of shock through the Dragon Clan, but the Pontiff himself was even more astounded. *‘Only days ago, Francis presented Constantine, demonstrating Du Chen, the Divine’s, ability to subdue a Rebellious Dragon in a single strike. Yet, what does that truly signify?’* the Pontiff, Pontiff Sama IX, mused. *‘I shall not fear a Master capable of obliterating the Five Peaks of Myriad Streams in one blow—for I, too, am a god! And beneath my command stands a million-strong army, ever ready!’*

*‘But now, could Du Chen, the Divine, truly be here? If he had indeed arrived, and managed to elude my very senses, then his true power… would necessitate a drastic re-evaluation!’*

Du Chen, with a solemn demeanor, declared in a ringing voice, “When the Dragon God makes his appearance, *my* god shall naturally reveal himself! Elder Thorog, what stirs such impatience within you?”

Thorog merely let out a soft ‘Hmph,’ glancing upwards at the star-dusted sky before falling silent.

Beneath that same celestial expanse, within the Dragon Clan encampment, at the Dragon God’s Palatial Abode, the Dragon God Samuel knelt on one knee before the palace gates, his gaze fixed upon the crimson dragon statue adorning its summit. A profound silence permeated the camp. The elite warriors had already departed for Moon Lake to witness the impending conflict, and none of the remaining guards dared to disturb the Dragon God’s customary ritual before every major battle: the veneration of his only sister – the crimson dragon who had lived entwined with Samuel for centuries, only to be slain by Constantine on her wedding night!

Time bled away, second by precious second. The sky offered no harbinger of the hour, only the silent stars. Samuel remained kneeling, perfectly still…

Yet, precisely at the stroke of midnight, *Drip!* A solitary, tender tear traced a path down the Dragon God’s cheek, striking the crystal slab before the palace gates with a crisp, mournful chime. The Dragon Clan guards watched in disbelief; the peerlessly formidable and overwhelmingly dominant Dragon God Samuel, actually had a moment of heart-wrenching sorrow and tears!

The sound of the tear faded, and the figure was gone. Almost simultaneously, with a thunderous *boom*, a fiercely wild silhouette descended onto the metal platform upon Moon Lake.

The platform shuddered, and the sound reverberated across the firmament! “I, the Dragon God Samuel, am here! Du Chen, step forth and embrace your demise!” As he spoke, firelight danced within the Dragon God’s grasp, and a colossal, fiery-red staff, a full ten feet long and as thick as a man’s arm, materialized in his hand, only to be struck heavily upon the ground once more! “Awooo! Our God shall prevail!” The assembled dragons roared in a frenzied chorus!

Du Chen inclined his head slightly towards the Pontiff, his eyes alight with unwavering confidence. He descended from the Golden Palanquin, approaching the edge of the platform with an air neither haughty nor subservient, and proclaimed in a clear voice, “Your Majesty the Dragon God! My god, Du Chen, has long awaited your arrival!”

The Dragon God, gripping his staff, remained impassive, his slightly narrowed eyes surveying Du Chen with an arrogant gleam. “Hmph, impressive! To have eluded my very senses, Du Chen, the Divine, you are indeed a formidable adversary!”

Du Chen, with a composed expression, spoke earnestly, “Your Majesty, before the true clash, on behalf of my god, I have a few points I wish to clarify. In this conflict, what shall be the consequence if my god emerges victorious, and what if he suffers defeat?”

“If Du Chen wins, I shall immediately withdraw my forces, and the transgression of your adoption of Andy shall be entirely expunged! Should *I* prevail, you shall surrender Constantine and Andy, and forthwith retreat from the Eye of Heaven Forest!”

“My god now understands!” Du Chen affirmed, inclining his head slightly before bowing and retreating, chanting in a prolonged cadence, “I humbly welcome my god!”

No sooner had his words faded than the serene and enigmatic waters of Moon Lake began to stir with an abrupt agitation! The duel platform hovered above Moon Lake, some seven or eight meters clear of the surface. Now, the ripples on the lake swelled, gradually coalescing into towering waves. Hundreds of water columns, interwoven with strands of moonlight, gracefully ascended into the sky, arcing around the platform from all sides, until they converged directly above the Dragon God Samuel’s head! As the water columns slowly converged, merging into a singular mass, a sudden explosion of golden and resplendent light erupted! A boundless aura surged forth, permeating the very fabric of heaven and earth. Ephemeral yet substantial, it encompassed hundreds of colossal dragons and over a thousand black-armored warriors! A sensation of warmth, mystery, and profound comfort, emanating from the depths of the soul, filled the hearts of all who felt it. A soft, golden rain began to fall, pattering gently over Moon Lake.

Amidst the golden shower, the coalesced water column slowly began to assume a humanoid form, drifting down like a falling leaf, until it stood poised before the Dragon God.

From a distance, Du Chen stood with his hands clasped behind his back, a faint smile playing upon his lips. This grand entrance ceremony, he mused, was nothing less than a platinum blockbuster, meticulously orchestrated by his own hand, utilizing the full extent of his arcane artifacts’ capabilities!

The Dragon God’s previously narrowed, blood-red eyes suddenly snapped wide open. “Indeed, a formidable adversary!” The figure before him was enshrouded in a thick golden mist, rendering his face indistinct. Only through the swirling vapor could one discern his flowing black hair and the *divinely sculpted* outline of a perfect physique – a form so exquisite it would surely drive countless master sculptors to despair! Dus had adopted the likeness of Du Chen’s previous incarnation, his physique naturally and perfectly embodying the essence of a celestial spirit and the very definition of a ‘god’!

Battle intent blazed fiercely within the Dragon God’s heart, yet, in a remarkably rare display, the Pontiff’s brows furrowed in deep concentration. *‘What a profoundly sacred aura!’* the Pontiff thought. *‘This essence resembles Margaret of Water’s Embrace Lake’s Water’s Embrace Holy Radiance by seven-tenths. The remaining three-tenths differ precisely because this aura is even more sacred than hers! Indeed, it is overwhelmingly, impossibly sacred! This is truly inconceivable!’ ‘I must re-evaluate Francis’s worth!’*

With a low growl, the Dragon God Samuel put some distance between them, gripping his staff tightly. “Come then!”

“Wait a moment!” Du Chen, the Divine, suddenly spoke. Indeed, Dus, the manifestation, could not physically speak, communicating only through Divine Sense. However, Deboning – recalling Phil’s ingenious method of leaving behind a Water Mirror Image – had crafted hundreds of small, metallic recording devices for him. These contained virtually every scenario Du Chen could conceive, providing Dus ample means to communicate freely from within the golden mist.

“Your Majesty Samuel,” the voice, mysterious and ethereal, resonated, stirring a subtle unease in the listeners’ hearts, “there exists no ancient enmity between us. And today, I, Du Chen, have no desire to disturb the peace between our factions!”

“What is your proposition?” the Dragon God inquired, lowering his staff.

Du Chen, the Divine, stood proudly upon the arena, his form as steadfast as Mount Miglio. “I have heard tell that during the Fourth Battle, Roland and the Fifth Sacred Dragon made a Three-Strike Pact, deciding victory without resort to animosity or bloodshed. Might we not emulate that Fourth Battle? You shall attack, I shall defend, and three strikes will determine the victor. Dragon God, do you dare accept such a challenge!?”

At this pronouncement, a ripple of derisive laughter spread through the Dragon Clan. Roland’s Three-Strike Pact, they knew, had involved breaking the Sacred Dragon’s defensive shield within three moves, yet the Sacred Dragon had been permitted to retaliate and evade. Conversely, it implied that as long as the Sacred Dragon possessed sufficient strength, it could win simply by exerting its full power to escape those three strikes…

*‘If merely evading the Dragon God’s three strikes constitutes victory, then even my Shadow Godfather could accomplish that feat. This hardly speaks to Du Chen, the Divine’s, true power,’* the Pontiff mused, shaking his head imperceptibly. *‘If the Dragon God agrees to this, it will be an incredible boon for him!’*

Yet the Dragon God, with an arrogant roar, challenged, “And why should I not dare!?”

“Truly worthy of the Dragon God Samuel!”

The golden mist enshrouding Du Chen, the Divine, swirled subtly. “Since that is decided,” he declared, “I shall stand firm right here, and endure Your Majesty’s three strikes! Within these three moves, the Dragon God may act as he pleases. Should I initiate an offensive, I shall forfeit! Should the Dragon God, within these three strikes, compel me to dodge or evade, making me shrink from His Majesty’s fierce edge, then I, too, shall forfeit! After three strikes, if even a single scratch mars my form, then I shall concede defeat… But, if Your Majesty cannot inflict the slightest harm upon me within those three strikes, then you, instead, shall be the one to lose!”

A collective gasp and murmur erupted from the multitude in the Eye of Heaven Forest! *‘His Three-Strike Pact means *this*! By the heavens, evading three strikes and enduring three strikes are entirely disparate concepts! To evade merely requires swiftness! But to endure demands a battle qi intensity at least equal to, if not surpassing, the Dragon God’s own, otherwise, the Dragon God could obliterate him in a single blow!’ ‘And what did he declare? That even dodging would constitute a loss? Does this imply Du Chen, the Divine, intends to stand perfectly still, allowing the Eleventh-Tier Dragon God to strike him three times!? And furthermore, he must not suffer even the slightest injury!?’*

The astonishment in the Pontiff’s eyes was impossible to conceal! *‘Unquestionably, I myself would never dare to stand immobile and permit the Dragon God three strikes – not even one! Does Du Chen, the Divine, truly possess such boundless confidence!? Could he genuinely surpass me, Pontiff Sama IX!? Is his power truly this terrifying!?’*

The Dragon God struck his colossal staff heavily upon the ground once more! “I refuse to take advantage of such a… contemptible gambit!” he roared. “Du Chen, the Divine, let us cast aside these limitations and fight without restraint!”

Du Chen slowly, mysteriously, shook his head. “Dragon God, I implore you, appease your wrath,” he began, his voice imbued with a profound mystique. “To be frank, I once swore a solemn oath to the heavens and the earth: in this lifetime, aside from performing virtuous deeds and vanquishing malevolent beings, I shall never raise a hand to harm another, not for any individual! Even my emissary in the mortal realm is no exception to this vow… Tonight, His Holiness the Pontiff’s earnest invitation was truly impossible to decline, and so I reluctantly agreed to participate in this challenge. Nevertheless, I absolutely refuse to injure you! Dragon God, let us indeed resolve this conflict with three strikes!”

The Dragon God gripped his staff with renewed intensity, letting out a heavy ‘Hmph.’ “Very well then, three strikes it shall be. Yet, know that I shall not take undue advantage of your terms… First strike!”