Are you unwilling to show weakness before me?

The Swamp​‍‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠​​‍⁠⁠‌​​​‌​ had succumbed to an unprecedented spatial-temporal distortion. Time accelerated in fragmented intervals, and space, after countless foldings and collisions, left mud whips and severed black limbs scattered across strange locations like debris in a kaleidoscope.

An Yu gasped for breath. He had to admit his methods were growing increasingly brutal; those clawing black hands had thoroughly worn away his patience.

When they finally arrived at the center of the swamp, they found a figure clad in red standing alone before the sky-piercing Black Rose. Lumen quietly gazed upward, his peaceful expression holding a trace of childlike novelty.

“Sleep—” Qin Zhilu paused. The freshness of water lilies had almost completely cleansed the damp, musty odor of the swamp, yet that slender, cold silhouette was nowhere to be found.

He fell silent for a moment, removed his glove toward the mist behind Lumen, and bowed his head in silent mourning.

An Yu joined his Commander in paying respects. The sound of ragged breathing still echoed throughout the swamp. He had heard this cryptic wheezing the entire way, but only now could he discern the intense pain and forbearance hidden within it.

With his back to them, Lumen took another step forward and murmured to the Black Rose, “He is in pain.”

The battle between Flame and the Black Goat had already reached a clear conclusion. Flame had undoubtedly gained the upper hand. Although the mud whips encountered along the way were still vying for dominance against the Black Rose, those minor branches were insignificant. At the center of the swamp, the Black Goat’s true form, a mass of dark cloud-flesh, had already become the root system of the Black Rose, and the structure of the central root was firmly stabilized.

Yet, with every passing second, some rose branches threatened to mutate back into dark cloud-flesh. Whenever this transformation began, the Black Rose immediately commanded its other branches to violently crush that section. This self-inflicted flagellation never ceased, weaving its agonized wheezing into a painful chant above the swamp.

Sometimes, dozens or hundreds of branches mutated simultaneously; before they could be pulverized, sharp scratch marks would suddenly protrude from beneath the flesh—as if powerful claws were violently piercing through the tissue from within.

Only after large clumps of sludge mixed with rose sap splattered downward would that section slowly revert to its rose form.

The Black Rose was brutal and resolute, yet enveloped in a dense aura of profound trauma.

Lumen whispered, “You cannot come back, can you?”

Qin Zhilu knit his brows in contemplation. “Although he has the upper hand, he is caught in a passive cycle. He cannot completely purge the Black Goat. He can only trigger the Black Goat’s traps over and over again, clearing its infection while enduring the agony of self-destruction.”

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“Why can it never be entirely cleared…” A manic gleam flashed in Lumen’s eyes, looking as if they might bleed. “Is he supposed to go on like this forever?!”

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Lumen frowned. “That program that was already destroyed?”

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Lumen remained silent. He stared intently at the squirming branches for a long time before whispering, “Then I understand.”

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“So perhaps, I know exactly which one it is.”

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“Its characteristics should be highly prominent…” Lumen’s gaze swept rapidly across the tens of thousands of swaying, squirming branches. After a full fifteen minutes, he shook his head in bewilderment. “But it isn’t here… When it escorted me out two months ago, the mud had already chased it to its tips. It might have completely turned into a mud whip long ago.”

Qin Zhilu shook his head flatly. “That is impossible. Two months have passed; Flame must have cleared all the mud whips from that time. The mud whips you see now are secondary growths emerging from the rose via the traitorous branch.”

Lumen froze for a moment. “Why are you so certain?”

“This is my fundamental understanding of Flame’s capabilities.” Qin Zhilu nodded slightly. “And of course, it comes from my knowledge of his temperament. Since he staked his life and human consciousness on this, you certainly cannot expect him to show any gentleness toward the Black Goat.”

“Gentleness…” Lumen repeated the word, appearing somewhat lost in thought.

After a moment, he lowered his gaze to stare intently at the Black Rose.

“Then, let us try one more time.”

“All things retain a memory of sound. Even if it has mutinied, it will still remember the soothing care it once received.”

He whispered as he advanced step by step. Thousands of rose branches darted past him, enveloping his body. He quietly stepped into that thorn-lined rose cage until the central flower root appeared before him.

The Black Rose continued to flagellate the anomalies on its structure, but the painful wheezing gradually grew fainter, as if intentionally suppressed. Only the flower root heaved with increasing agony.

“Are you unwilling to show weakness before me?” Lumen reached out and pressed his palm against the root. His pale, smooth fingers were immediately pierced by the rough thorns, and fresh blood seeped into the root tissue. He said softly, “But I have already stood here for a long time, witnessing your wretched state.”

He looked up, his gaze piercing through the cloud-like density of the overhead branches, staring directly at the highest blossoming black rose bud. He pulled down the zipper of his collar.

His red lips parted and closed swiftly, emitting sound waves that An Yu could not perceive. However, from the side, An Yu could see the metallic patterns on Lumen’s cheeks vibrating, dragging across his skin as a deep flush rapidly spread, a testament to the sheer intensity of the acoustic frequency.

The frequency of the sound waves exceeded the threshold of human hearing, ensuring that the hidden words remained completely shielded from eavesdropping.