Lotus Seal of Purity

The Celestial Capital? Is that where Eldest Brother is bound? Du Chen couldn't help but meticulously scrutinize the tunnel, its walls a grotesque spectacle of dark yellow, gnarled wood. Was this truly the fabled Celestial Passage, accessible only to Titled Battle Gods? Yet, it seems utterly devoid of peril!

A thunderous roar erupted once more from Flaying. "Francis! My fusion with Steve is nearing its completion; I am about to vanish! Cease your idle chatter and heed my words!"

Du Chen's heart clenched; he quickly bent his ear, listening with utmost gravity.

"For years, I meticulously controlled the fusion process. Steve, though vaguely aware of my presence, never grasped the full truth. By day, he indulged his life as a philanderer, using this vessel. But I resided in the deepest recesses of his soul, emerging only when you faced peril, to seize control and ensure your safety. My grand design was for our complete fusion to culminate upon your twentieth year!"

Flaying’s voice, growing increasingly faint, made Du Chen refrain from uttering a single sound. He absorbed every word, knowing this might be the most pivotal revelation of his existence!

"Six months past, Steve’s corporeal form had fully acclimated to my battle qi. I commenced the arduous task of embedding my memories, piece by agonizing piece, deep within his soul, awaiting the opportune moment to bestow upon him the faculty of recollection. Yet, at Lanning’s grand banquet, Steve found himself embroiled in a conflict with Salon. But in the aftermath of the feast, their private exchange revealed a shared penchant for debauchery and dissipation. After but half a day’s discourse, they had inexplicably transformed into bosom companions in villainy!"

"That very eve, Steve and Salon, united in their pursuit of pleasure, sought the Diplomatic Residence. At the festive table, Salon produced a vintage elixir—Battle God’s Intoxication—a potent specialty from the beastmen’s Auerbach Grand Canyon, and offered it to Steve!"

Du Chen, a wry grimace twisting his lips, instantly recalled Susanna’s past seductions and the sheer, overwhelming potency of that wine—a brew capable of felling even a High-level Battle God!

"Protected by my battle qi, Steve barely managed to remain upright, though his head swam. But Salon, utterly succumbed to the potent brew, began to utter drunken ramblings—and terrifying truths! He revealed that the very skin upon his chest bore the markings of a map, a guide to the Celestial Capital itself!"

Flaying paused, a prolonged silence hanging heavy in the air, as if he struggled to regain his breath. When he next spoke, his voice had diminished significantly, a mere whisper of its former power.

"Phil’s disappearance in the Celestial Capital—a truth I had buried deep within Steve’s memories, awaiting the moment I would grant him the key to unlock them! However, provoked by Salon’s revelations, Steve, propelled by this deeply buried memory and an overwhelming yearning for his mother, unwittingly triggered the fusion process ahead of schedule. Unprepared for such a deluge, he suddenly grasped the horrifying reality of his dual personality. His mind immediately fractured, spiraling into a state of utter collapse! In that frenzied madness, he slew Salon and seized the map from his corpse!"

"This explains the profound despair and turmoil I witnessed when I visited Eldest Brother in the Death Row Cells," Du Chen realized with a jolt of understanding.

Flaying’s voice, though fading, held a renewed urgency. "My soul, inextricably tethered to Steve’s at that volatile moment, was utterly unprepared, thus I too was dragged into the maelstrom of his madness! Then came the great upheaval within Lanning’s Death Row Cells. The tumultuous clash of your battle qi, vibrating through the very air, amplified our mental disarray to an agonizing crescendo, forcing the final fusion process to commence ahead of its time! From that instant, I ceased to be Steve’s controller; instead, a deranged Steve held dominion over me! And in the depths of his fractured mind, only one crystal-clear imperative remained: to locate the mother he so desperately yearned for!"

Alas, it was true. When Phil vanished, Francis was but three, Charles, five—both still too young to fully comprehend such a loss. But Steve, at eight years of age, was at an impressionable stage, utterly dependent on his mother, and most susceptible to the agony of her absence. Thus, among the three brethren, Steve’s attachment to Phil was undeniably the most profound…

"Francis, Steve is currently consuming my very essence; his mind remains ensnared in pandemonium, driven solely by the desperate urge to find Phil! Heed my next words with utmost clarity and engrave them into your memory!"

Flaying’s voice sharpened, cutting through the air like a blade. "Salon, in his dying breaths, spoke of realms beyond the Three Continents—numerous Heavens Beyond Heavens, sprawling Underworld Cities. The Celestial Capital, he said, was one such place! The grand portal leading to these forbidden domains is known as the lifeline. Beyond this lifeline, the tunnels twist into an inscrutable labyrinth, teeming with perilous traps. One must possess both a map and formidable power to traverse it! Else, only three fates await: to perish, trapped within the endless maze; to be impaled by the tunnels’ hidden mechanisms; or, by sheer, improbable fortune, to stumble upon an exit leading to an utterly unknown, alien land!"

Du Chen’s jaw clenched with sudden resolve. "I comprehend now! Eldest Brother possesses but a fragment—a mere quarter—of the map. Locating the Celestial Capital’s entrance would be a monumental feat in itself. To allow him to blindly rampage through these tunnels would be naught but a suicidal endeavor! We… we must intercede and halt his progress!"

Flaying let out a resonant, mirthless laugh. "Precisely! This tunnel, thus far, has not only been devoid of peril but has paradoxically pulsed with an abundance of life essence, even granting me a fleeting moment of lucidity to control my voice! But let this comfort not deceive you; the path that lies ahead promises certain death! Francis, you now understand what must be done, and I, too, can finally fade into oblivion with a semblance of peace!"

His voice, now a mere whisper, almost imperceptible, Flaying spoke his last words: "My debts to Sherine in this lifetime are immeasurable. Should the opportunity ever arise, Francis, I implore you, make amends for me…"

A profound pang of sorrow pierced Du Chen’s heart, mingled with a disbelieving awe. Had Flaying truly ceased to be, just like that? His own Guardian Battle God, vanished from existence? Though, in truth, he would persist in another form, another identity.

After a fleeting moment of profound grief, Du Chen abruptly raised his head, a decisive glint in his eye. He gave a sharp tug on the rope in his hand. "Foye! Brook! Apprehend Steve!"

No sooner had the two men lunged forward than Steve, with a sudden, frantic motion, pressed the Blade to his own throat. Hunching over, he shrieked with manic desperation, "Begone! All of you, begone! I must find my mother, I *will* find my mother… I know I cannot defeat you, but, but if you advance a single step further, I swear I shall spill my own blood before your eyes!"

Du Chen sighed inwardly, a heavy weight settling in his chest. To resort to such a desperate threat, such craven pleas… the once-valiant Flaying was truly… gone. What stood before him now was merely his Eldest Brother, the quintessential wastrel, whose understanding of beautiful women far surpassed his comprehension of Battle Gods!

Old Foye and Deboning exchanged glances, then both turned their gaze back to Du Chen, their faces etched with uncertainty, completely at a loss.

Yet, the final pronouncements of Flaying had crystallized Du Chen’s resolve. He bellowed, his voice echoing through the tunnel, "Steve! I command you, regain your senses! Hear me now: should you take one more step today, I shall end your life without hesitation, forever denying you the opportunity to seek your mother! Brook, place the Blade firmly against his throat!"

Old Foye cast a beseeching glance back at Du Chen, but Du Chen met it with a look of unwavering reassurance.

Deboning, with resolute strides, advanced.

But at that critical juncture, Steve suddenly crumpled to the ground, wailing like a lost child. "Mother! I must find my mother! Why do you hinder me?" He then wildly raked the wooden tunnel wall with the Flaying Blade clutched in his hand!

Old Foye cast his gaze heavenward, releasing a protracted sigh. In times of old, Glynn would rather have his corpse abandoned in the desolate wilds than meekly, ingloriously perish in a sickbed; hence, to this day, none know the resting place of his bones. Yet, his heir now presented such a spectacle… Alas, one could not truly fault the child, for he had been burdened with an immense weight for the past eighteen years.

Du Chen lowered his voice, speaking with gravitas. "Foye, please, restrain Eldest Brother. We genuinely cannot proceed further. Without a map, our continued advance is naught but a suicidal folly!" As he spoke, he leveled a fierce, menacing finger at Steve. "Steve, dare not believe for a moment that I lack the resolve to end your life! In the days to come, I pledge my very existence to finding our mother. But if you persist in this defiance today, I vow you shall forfeit any and all chance of ever seeing her again!"

Steve’s already fractured mind, now reduced to that of a bewildered child, mumbled, "You… you will help me find Mother? Heh, heh… good…"

In that brief exchange, Old Foye and Deboning had already apprehended Steve! However, instead of confining Steve within the Precious Lotus Scripture—a common method—Old Foye, well-versed in the intricacies of Battle Qi Inheritance, simply hoisted Steve onto his shoulder and continued onward.

Du Chen gently patted the rugged tunnel wall, his gaze lingering on Steve’s pathetic form. "Fortunately, these very walls granted Flaying a fleeting moment of lucidity just before his final dissolution, enabling him to warn us of the perils ahead. Otherwise, had we continued our relentless descent…" He shook his head, a grim shadow crossing his face, then turned and began to retrace their steps.

Old Foye and Deboning fell in silently behind him, their footsteps muffled.

Du Chen, forcing a semblance of resolve, spoke up. "Foye, Flaying departed in such haste, leaving many vital details unsaid. You possess a far deeper understanding of Battle Qi Inheritance than I. Can you discern the current state of my Eldest Brother?"

Old Foye nodded sagely. "Judging by Flaying’s final pronouncements, Steve prematurely ignited the fusion process, thereby inducing this mental disarray. However, it is not an irreparable affliction. Once we emerge from this place, we shall seek out a secluded sanctuary. Is not Beibei, that gifted lass, proficient in the arts of Spiritual Power? With her guidance and protection, we can assuredly ensure Steve’s peaceful and complete fusion!"

Du Chen felt a measure of relief settle within him. It was Deboning, however, who voiced a pressing question: "Ben, why did Madam Philia allow Flaying to depart in his dying moments? By the sacred tenets of our creed, the remains of a Saint must be…"

Old Foye abruptly shook his head, a somber expression on his face. "Speak not a single word to me concerning Yetha. Madam Philia once spoke with me in complete candor, stating unequivocally that unless I pledged allegiance to the Holy Yessar Church, she would divulge nothing of Yetha’s secrets. Thus, for all these years, I have confined myself to nurturing the children, steadfastly refraining from any involvement in your… affairs!" He offered a weary smile. "I am, after all, a beastman; barely considered human in your world."

Du Chen’s lips thinned, a frown furrowing his brow. "Foye," he asserted, "the Holy Yessar Church has since been reformed into Du Chen’s Divine Cult. Those antiquated strictures were abolished long ago! Regardless of your lineage or race, you are, and always will be, my adoptive father!"

The corner of Old Foye’s eye glistened faintly. He chuckled, a deep, resonant sound. "My life’s journey, ah, I’ve simply been blessed to nurture a few good children! It was all worth it!" But then, his tone shifted abruptly. "However, once we escape this place, I shall revert to being merely Old Foye. In my youth, I betrayed the beastmen, making me anathema to the Saint Baton Family. In my middle age, I audaciously breached Reno’s Death Row Cells, incurring the wrath of Alonso, who yearned for my swift demise. In my twilight years, I must remain hidden from the gaze of Water’s Embrace Lake… Should I ever reappear in public, it would bring unimaginable calamity upon you!"

Du Chen clasped Old Foye’s hand firmly, letting out a soft chuckle, though his eyes burned with unwavering conviction. "Fear not, Old Foye. The day will assuredly come when Durkes City shall ascend to such unparalleled might that you may stride boldly before every single one of your adversaries, and not one of them shall dare to even graze a single hair upon your head!"

Old Foye, about to utter another sentiment, suddenly blanched, his expression undergoing a drastic shift. "Francis," he demanded, "how long have we been traversing this path?"

Du Chen’s expression mirrored Old Foye’s sudden concern. "We should be nearing the entrance now!" he offered with a forced, reassuring smile. "There’s no cause for alarm; this tunnel possesses no divergences—it is a single, unyielding path straight to the end. As long as we retrace our steps, we shall undoubtedly reach the exit… Eh? What is that? A fork in the path ahead? Confound it! We encountered no such divergence on our way in!"

Deboning’s hands ran frantically over the rough-hewn walls. "Young Master, this is unequivocally no mere Battle God Illusionary Magic Formation! Yet… how could we possibly have become disoriented when we followed naught but a single, unswerving path?!"

Even as he spoke, the murky, amber light permeating the tunnel abruptly shifted, morphing into a sickly, ominous green—a chilling, terrifying hue of dark emerald that promised dread…