Arrival of the Holy Church Delegation

As Du Chen strolled back to his chambers along the tranquil Water River, his mind ceaselessly churned with unrestrained thoughts.

March 3rd would undoubtedly host a grand drama, yet it was not this spectacle that consumed his thoughts. Du Chen's true anxiety stemmed from the chilling realization that Philip's machinations against him had commenced; today's insidious attempt at a Battle Qi Inheritance was an unmistakable harbinger! Had Roland's illustrious name not served as his shield, he might well have plunged headlong into a meticulously laid snare.

By the heavens, hadn't the Flaying Battle God promised to make contact? Where in blazes was he?

Du Chen inwardly resolved that madman Philip was a truly formidable adversary, beyond his current ability to confront directly. Should circumstances prove dire, he was determined to cut his losses, pack his meagre belongings, and decamp from Battle God Isle altogether!

Upon reaching his dormitory entrance, he noticed two tents not far off, brightly lit, from which boisterous guffaws erupted, signaling the presence of the Old Gambler and the Old Charlatan. He wondered what merriment had befallen these two self-proclaimed gatekeepers.

Du Chen eyed the tents before pushing open his own chamber door. The moment he turned his head, a peculiar tableau assailed his vision.

Poor Shieb Harry lay bound in white cloth, resembling a mummified zongzi, unceremoniously discarded upon a stone platform in the courtyard. His small, rapidly blinking eyes bespoke urgent terror, seemingly pleading, “Master, swift escape! Danger is upon us!”

Du Chen was startled. At that very instant, with a thunderous *CLANG*, an unseen force yanked him violently into the courtyard, and the heavy iron gate slammed shut behind him.

“Who goes there!?” Du Chen demanded, his voice a low, guttural growl.

“Hah, little fellow, hold your composure! It is your Big Bro!” A towering silhouette materialized behind Du Chen, clad in black and crimson battle armor, a fiery red beard cascading down his chest. It was none other than Mars, the Battle God, chief of the Enforcement Temple!

“Ah, it is you, Old Man Mars!” Du Chen let out a sigh of genuine relief, then pointed at Harry. “I hadn't anticipated your swift arrival. This humble attendant of mine, could he perhaps be freed from his bonds?”

“No rush, no rush,” Mars boomed, leading Du Chen into the chateau as if entering his own private demesne, all the while grumbling, “Why on earth would you procure a Shieb slave? Damned Shiebs! If Mina hadn't specifically vouched for him as your servant, I'd have had him steamed into a delicacy!”

The modest hall on the ground floor was thronged with people—fourteen by a swift count, Mina among them. Each was adorned in soft knight's armor, weapons prominently strapped to their backs. Only one individual wore a plain, dark blue cleric's robe, and conspicuously, only this man was seated.

In such an assembly, Du Chen found his gaze irresistibly drawn to the seated cleric. Upon closer scrutiny, he appeared remarkably youthful, barely past his twentieth year, with cascades of blue curly hair framing a strikingly handsome face. Yet, his very presence radiated an unmistakable air of refined nobility and imperious gravitas, compelling all to avert their eyes, daring not to meet his direct gaze.

Mars gestured. “You know Mina. These twelve are the Guardian Battle Gods of the Enforcement Temple: Cylin, Zador…” He enumerated each by name, and each warrior offered Du Chen a solemn nod. After presenting all Twelve Guardian Battle Gods, Mars lowered his voice, “Go stand watch! Any who dare to spy or pry shall be summarily executed!”

The twelve Battle Gods vanished like phantoms. At this juncture, Du Chen's curiosity regarding the seated figure's identity intensified. What potent individual could subdue even the notoriously free-spirited Mina into such solemn, respectful stillness?

Mars lounged beside the man, propping his legs up with a boisterous laugh. “This here is my brother, Bairu! Right then, Mina, you're dismissed!”

For a man to fraternize as brothers with Mars, Bairu must surely be a personage of Godfather-tier standing, at minimum.

Du Chen offered a polite salutation. Bairu’s lips curved into a faint smile, and his voice, deep and resonant, carried a distinctive timbre. “Greetings, Francis, and greetings to your companion, that enigmatic Battle God!”

As he spoke, he drew a ceremonial tablet from the voluminous folds of his sleeve and laid it upon the table before Du Chen. “You have rendered invaluable service to the Holy Church. On behalf of the Church, I hereby elevate you to the esteemed rank of Deacon-Bishop of the Enforcement Temple!”

“Two hundred gold coins annually,” Mars interjected from the side, “the absolute prerogative to summarily execute any baron from any realm across the continent, and the authority to deploy Holy Church detachments of up to a hundred strong!”

“A rather lucrative emolument, wouldn't you agree?” Du Chen offered a slight, knowing smile. His unflappable composure elicited a nod of approval from Bairu. “Francis, let us forgo the formalities. Mars and I are here specifically concerning Philip. I have perused all pertinent intelligence. Do you possess any recommendations?”

Recommendations? Heh heh. Philip, you dared to brand *this fellow* a mere experimental subject? Then *this fellow* dares to plot your downfall!

Du Chen's expression turned grave. “Before I proffer my counsel, there is a crucial matter I must impart: Philip is highly likely to conduct his experiment *before* March 3rd!”

Bairu and Mars exchanged a meaningful glance. “March 3rd… Battle Qi Convergence… Mount Tianshan!” Bairu mused, his voice laced with profound thought. “It appears Philip intends to harness *that* particular artifact! Francis, your observations are exceptionally astute. I can now confirm, it will *definitely* be on March 3rd, not 'before'!”

Du Chen nodded. “In that case, my recommendation is to eliminate Philip en route to Mount Tianshan!”

“Slay him?” Mars guffawed, a booming sound filling the chamber. “Little fellow, you possess a delightful savagery! I approve!”

Bairu spoke with understated calm, “I, too, harbor such an ambition, but precisely how do we achieve it? This is territory belonging to Battle God Academy. How can we inconspicuously dispatch him, especially when Philip is perpetually surrounded by formidable experts?”

Du Chen offered a knowing smirk. “And yet, regardless of the inherent difficulties, the Holy Church *must* see him eliminated, must it not?”

“You are absolutely correct!” Bairu gestured for Du Chen to take a seat opposite him.

Du Chen settled into his seat, rubbing his nose thoughtfully. “I believe that with the Holy Church's might, eliminating him is not the true impediment. The true challenge lies in executing the deed without leaving a single ripple or alarming Battle God Academy. After all, such an overt act of assassination against a Vice Dean would undoubtedly stir up a veritable hornet's nest of trouble for the Holy Church!”

Observing Bairu's subtle nod, Du Chen allowed a sly, almost wicked grin to play upon his lips, though it quickly recomposed into an innocent, almost boyish charm.

“If we cannot execute it in silence,” Du Chen continued, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, “then let us orchestrate a grand spectacle! Since the Holy Church wishes to distance itself from direct involvement, then we shall 'kill with a borrowed knife'!”

“'Kill with a borrowed knife'?” Bairu's eyes gleamed with renewed interest. “Whose knife, pray tell?”

Du Chen did not immediately reply. Instead, he swiftly deliberated upon his nascent scheme, inwardly resolving that if Philip remained alive, he himself would face the imminent threat of being dissected. Thus, the calculated risk was entirely justifiable!

Bairu observed Du Chen's contemplative expression, recognizing that the young man was carefully weighing the implications of his plan. He granted him ample time for reflection before finally speaking, “Do you intend to enlist the aid of your enigmatic companion for this task? Would he truly be willing to assist the Holy Church?”

“He might participate,” Du Chen replied with a slight shake of his head, “but I speak of another. What of Philip's Subject Number One?”

“You speak of that diabolical creature captured by Roland?” Bairu's brow furrowed almost imperceptibly, his gaze plumbing inscrutable depths. After pondering at length, a faint smile graced his lips. “Someone intends to rescue that fiend on March 3rd. We can lay the blame squarely upon the shoulders of that would-be rescuer, can we not?”

“Your sagacity commands my utmost respect!” Du Chen rose, bowing with a deferential smile. Inwardly, he chuckled, *Helen, you've already incurred the full wrath of Battle God Academy; what's another black pot to shoulder? Especially one that could secure your father's very life!*