Dragon Raja 3; Chapter 183: Girl with Sandalwood Scent (15)

Dragon Raja 3

Caesar instinctively drew Dictator, hidden under his wrist, but his opponent’s first strike wasn’t aimed at him; instead, it was a spinning slash directed at the Chevrolet Camaro behind him. In the blink of an eye, both headlights were destroyed, with plastic and glass shards flying everywhere. The front bumper of the car was sliced off entirely, crashing heavily to the ground.

The precision of the swordsmanship was incredible, but Caesar couldn’t immediately grasp the reason behind the move.

The next moment, he felt a chill wind cut across his face, and he suddenly realized the opponent’s sword was already in front of him! This meant the man was highly skilled in combat in the dark—extinguishing the lights was a deliberate strategy to prevent Caesar from seeing him clearly. The sneak attack nearly succeeded, but Caesar’s Yanling, “Kamaitachi,” was also perfectly suited for fighting in the dark! He quickly drew a sawed-off shotgun with his left hand, using it to block the incoming blade. The barrel was sliced clean off, and the severed half smashed into Caesar’s chest. Though it was a replica of a Remington shotgun, the steel used was high-carbon, and cutting through the barrel was no easier than slicing through rebar. The shotgun bought Caesar a fraction of a second, allowing him to strike silently with Dictator in his right hand.

The assassin’s dagger!

Since his opponent was a master of the blade, he would naturally assume that he had just destroyed one of Caesar’s weapons. A follow-up attack seemed inevitable.

Caesar had been counting on this “inevitable” action. Before his opponent could muster another strike, Dictator, hidden behind Caesar’s wrist, would deliver a lethal blow. In the darkness, the assassin’s blade was the perfect tool for such an ambush!

But the edge of Dictator struck hard against metal—it clashed against the unsharpened part of a Japanese sword near its guard. The blade was long, with the first half sharpened, and the second half usually left as polished steel to avoid chipping. His opponent had completely anticipated Caesar’s technique.

Caesar quickly reversed his grip, withdrew the blade, and leapt backward while firing the sawed-off shotgun’s remaining shell directly forward. The bright muzzle flash illuminated the dark for an instant, but the enemy had already vanished. The buckshot slammed into the Camaro’s hood, collapsing it and cracking the engine block. Fuel began leaking, and within seconds, the car was engulfed in flames. The terrified driver burst from the vehicle, scrambling away from the fire. The other bōsōzoku thugs, holding their shotguns, stood waiting. They weren’t planning to interfere in this knife fight—at least, not until it was over.

That worked in Caesar’s favor. Now he could focus all his energy on the dangerous swordsman.

Caesar ran his fingers along the edge of the sawed-off shotgun barrel—it was perfectly smooth, as if sliced by a laser cutter. He could imagine the speed of his opponent’s blade. Tossing the ruined shotgun aside, he adjusted his breathing, concentrating intently, not daring to relax for a second. His opponent used the simplest, most effective style of an assassin’s blade—any mistake in this fight would be fatal.

The Camaro continued to burn fiercely, creating the only source of light in the darkness. But with the sharp contrast between light and shadow, it was impossible to see clearly. Too many people were around, making it difficult for Caesar to distinguish the swordsman’s heartbeat. The man was close, but Caesar couldn’t see him.

Suddenly, a sharp, black arc appeared behind Lu Mingfei—the swordsman had moved behind him, and his long blade was sweeping toward the back of Lu Mingfei’s neck! His sword was black, reflecting no firelight, and the man’s dark clothing made him nearly invisible. Lu Mingfei had no idea the danger was so close.

But in the realm of “Kamaitachi,” such tricks were useless. The faster the sword swung, the more pronounced the airwaves from the blade became.

In a flash, Caesar lunged forward, grabbed Lu Mingfei’s collar, and yanked him to the ground. At the same time, Dictator clashed with the black blade. Sparks flew as the two swords collided with a deafening sound, and both fighters were forced back by the impact. Neither wasted a moment—they immediately charged at each other again. Caesar shrugged off his jacket, draping it over his forearm, and switched to a reverse grip on his blade, hiding the sharp edge beneath the jacket. This was a military knife technique used by pre-WWII Polish cavalry—they would hide their sabers within their cloaks and strike their enemies as they passed, leaving their opponents guessing where the blade would come from.

Caesar moved swiftly alongside the shadowy figure, swinging his leather jacket in wide arcs. The silver chains on the jacket jingled loudly, deliberately distracting his opponent’s hearing, while his real attack remained completely silent.

The opponent was surprisingly familiar with this ancient sword technique and shifted to a wide sweeping slash from side to side, using the length of his blade to suppress Caesar’s attempts to strike in close.

Both combatants had similar speed and strength, so it became a battle of continuous sword techniques. Neither could see the other’s blade paths clearly, relying purely on instinct. In just a few seconds, they exchanged dozens of strikes.

At such high speed and intensity, a single mistake would be fatal. Yet both flawlessly executed their sword combinations, like ballet dancers performing a duet on the edge of blades, moving in perfect harmony despite the deadly stakes.

The final strike of a cavalry sword is always the strongest. Caesar leapt into the air, slashing three times rapidly as he jumped over his opponent’s head. As he descended, he found himself behind his opponent—this was the moment he had been waiting for. He used a modified version of the Polish cavalry technique called the “Over-the-Saddle Cut.” Originally a showy move performed by standing on horseback and leaping over an enemy rider to deliver a cut from behind, it was a highly difficult move, especially while accounting for the horse’s speed. If mishandled, it could result in falling and being trampled. Caesar adapted this technique for use on foot—his three airborne slashes were feints, with the real danger being the final strike from behind.

His opponent had no time to turn around; he couldn’t see Caesar and couldn’t block an attack from directly behind. Moreover, shifting his sword to defend from behind would force him into a weak, reverse-hand position where his joints wouldn’t allow him to generate enough strength.

Yet his opponent didn’t move. Instead, he flipped his long sword over his shoulder, holding it diagonally across his back with his left hand gripping the dull side of the blade.

It was the most basic Chinese sword technique, known as “Su Qin Carrying the Sword.” Throughout the fight, his opponent had been using fierce Japanese swordsmanship, but at this crucial moment, he suddenly switched to this Chinese technique to counter Caesar’s “Over-the-Saddle Cut.” The two blades clashed, sending a brilliant spray of sparks as Su Qin Carrying the Sword perfectly blocked the strike.

It was a sudden reversal of fortune, as if they had practiced this choreography a thousand times before. Both fighters had danced along the edge of death but had emerged without a victor. The bōsōzoku thugs watched in stunned silence.

The opponent retracted his blade and lunged toward Lu Mingfei. Before Lu Mingfei could react, he was grabbed by the collar and hurled toward the marble counter. This time, Caesar didn’t save him. Instead, he kicked a steel trash can toward the area where the bōsōzoku were most concentrated.