Dragon Raja 3; Chapter 439: Night of Wind and Tides (19)

Dragon Raja 3

Sakurai Nanami and four cadres acted as his bodyguards, while Fūma Kōtarō and the remaining four cadres covered the rear. Their automatic pistols were trained on the path behind them. If something dangerous caught up, they were prepared to fire every bullet they had and then charge in themselves to buy Chisei even a few extra seconds to escape. But Chisei would never allow that to happen. That’s why he needed to cut a path of blood as quickly as possible. He had already pushed his physical limits to the edge. With techniques from various schools of swordsmanship—Mikagami Meishin-ryu, Yagyū Shinkage-ryu, Kasan Shrine Style, Kogisen-ryu—he switched between methods, using techniques like Nikiri Method, Shinichi Staff, Tenpō Ichimonji, flowing between them with the grace of a dancer, as blood sprayed in all directions during his lethal dance.

The cadres were inspired by their Patriarch’s fearless charge, drawing the short swords at their waists and rushing forward with him. Wasn’t this the man the Yamata no Orochi had been waiting for all these years? A man who carved his way through a path of blood, leading the family back to the pinnacle of the world!

In just a few seconds, they crossed the long corridor, and ahead lay the Summer Moon Hall. The fire escape was located beside the Summer Moon Hall. Kumogiri slashed through the air in a brilliant arc, like a river of light. With a final spin of his remaining strength, Chisei severed a Death Servitor at the waist, its blood splattering across the doors of Summer Moon Hall and streaming down the white paper screens.

One second later, the door collapsed before Chisei with a thunderous crash, and the sea wind rushed in. Outside the Summer Moon Hall was a vast terrace, beyond which the turbulent seas of Shinjuku stretched endlessly.

In that moment, time seemed to stand still, leaving only the raging sea—and the figure with long white hair billowing in the wind. He was so slender, so weightless, dressed in a simple kimono, leaning against the small table in the center of Summer Moon Hall as if taking a nap.

Behind him, the black ocean roared like a dragon.

That person slowly lifted his head. Most of the elaborate makeup on his face had dissolved in the water, but what remained gave him a breathtaking beauty. In the depths of his eyes, golden mandala flowers seemed to spin.

It was Chime—or rather, Ruri.

In the end, they had met again, but some people had already passed each other by, and some things had already changed beyond recognition.

There was no joy in this reunion of brothers. At the first sight of Ruri, Chisei instinctively raised his blade in front of himself in defense. Ruri sat there, beautiful as an ukiyo-e painting, but his eyes radiated an intense bloodlust.

The cadres raised their guns to shoot, but Chisei stopped them. “Stand down… stand down!”

He couldn’t say much more. All his attention was focused on the long blade with the cherry-red scabbard resting by Ruri’s side. The blade was at least two meters away from Ruri, seemingly far out of reach. But Chisei knew it was like a venomous snake’s fang—whenever Ruri wanted to use it, it would surely appear in his hand. For hybrids like him and Ruri, bullets were unlikely to deal a fatal blow. The most effective weapons were sharp blades that could sever muscles, bones, and nerves, thoroughly “destroying” the enemy—just like breaking the head and limbs off a doll, turning it into a pile of meaningless parts.

Ruri could reduce his subordinates to pieces in an instant if he wished. But Ruri wasn’t concerned with those insignificant ants; he was here for Chisei. From the moment the door opened, Ruri had been staring blankly at him.

Those were the eyes of a sinister demon—the very one Chisei had killed in the deepest part of the basement years ago. Now, he had returned.

Chisei took a few steps back, trying to put a safe distance between himself and his brother—or rather, he was being pushed back by Ruri’s murderous aura. The Death Servitors crawled on the ground, too afraid to move, oppressed by both the Kingship domain and Ruri’s presence. The thing that struck fear into the Death Servitors was none other than Ruri. When the ultimate demon revealed his true nature, even these bloodthirsty beasts trembled.

Moments ago, Chisei’s veins had been filled with the burning heat of dragon blood, but now it felt as though a cold snake had slithered into his heart, freezing his body inch by inch. He had held onto a faint hope before coming here, but now he understood—his brother had died many years ago. What remained was only the demon named Ruri.

The demon had returned, wearing his brother’s skin, to exact revenge. This was all a trap from the beginning. The Oni Clan had used their remaining forces to trap the Patriarch of the Yamata no Orochi in this host club. Even though Chisei could influence the entire underworld of Japan, right now, he had only ten subordinates with him.

It was a perfect ambush. If the Yamata no Orochi were a dragon with eight heads, then now every single head had been nailed down.

Chisei suddenly stopped, slowly drawing his blade. The Shinryu-ryu: Rasetsu Oni Bone—his fastest and most lethal technique. Facing his brother, he had no confidence and could only bet everything on this strike.

But Ruri didn’t respond to the deadly stance. He merely watched Chisei silently, as if looking at a stranger. With Chisei’s explosive speed, it would only take a fraction of a second to deliver a fatal slash, but Ruri leisurely continued adjusting his hair.

His long white hair, pure as snow, was growing at a visible rate. When the door to Summer Moon Hall had just opened, his hair only draped over the small table. Moments later, it was already reaching the tatami mat. From his appearance, it was clear that something incredible was happening within his body, like Sakurai Mei mutating claws in an instant. Over the years, Ruri had consumed countless evolution drugs, but none had produced noticeable effects. Now, however, all those drugs were taking effect at once, violently driving his evolution. The awakened dragon blood was simultaneously destroying and rebuilding his body. He looked pale and fragile, yet brimming with power, like a king ready to mount his steed for battle at any moment.

The dark tide, the white waves, the salty wind—seagulls cried anxiously over the water. Chisei stood as still as an iron-cast warrior, while the delicate and feminine Ruri leaned lazily against the small table, as if swaying in the wind, his gaze dreamy and distant.

Fūma Kōtarō and Sakurai Nanami exchanged anxious glances, their hearts pounding so violently it felt as if they might burst from their chests. But there was nothing they could do. This was a moment where only the “King” had the right to speak.

“You?” Ruri’s eyes suddenly lit up, as if a small spark had ignited within them.

“Me,” Chisei replied.

“Brother?” Ruri stood up. When he called out to Chisei as “brother,” there was a hint of boyish innocence in his voice, and for a moment, it seemed as if he had broken free from his sinister, demonic state.

Chisei did not respond.

“It was you who killed me,” Ruri tilted his head, looking at Chisei.

Just a second ago, his voice carried that youthful tone, but now, it was completely gone. That childlike intonation was something he had used habitually, and even as a demon, he could unconsciously call Chisei “brother” in such a manner.

Chisei still did not respond.

After so many years apart, Chisei had imagined how he might face that familiar yet changed face. Would he greet him with tears or a smile? Or simply pour a cup of tea, light a cigarette, and engage in a long conversation?

But now, he could only respond to Ruri with silence. At this point, there were no words left to say. Ruri called him “brother,” and he did not answer because he was not the brother of a demon.

Ruri suddenly laughed, a wild, theatrical laugh. His plain kimono quivered with his laughter, the folds of the fabric rippling like flowing water. No one could tell if his laughter was genuine or a performance; it was so full of dramatic tension, like a victorious hero who had conquered nations, standing atop the world and laughing unrestrainedly at the futile enemies who had dared to challenge him, now reduced to mere skeletons. He was so full of pride and triumph, looking down on the world with disdain.

He had ascended to the very pinnacle of power. From this moment on, no one could stand before him.

His laughter carried the accumulated resentment and bitterness of many years. Chime had not lied to Lu Mingfei; over those long years apart, he had both longed to reunite with his brother and harbored deep resentment. The suffering of the past had fermented in his loneliness, transforming into something terrifying, a demon lurking deep within his heart. The cherry-red longsword appeared in Ruri’s hand, and in the next instant, he vanished from everyone’s sight. Only Chisei could see the phantom moving like the wind. Ruri’s speed far surpassed his imagination, and in the Kingship domain, Ruri’s movements were entirely unaffected! The moment he struck, it was as if the blade of the longsword was already pointed at Chisei’s forehead.

There was no time to release the Rasetsu Oni Bone, Chisei’s most powerful and lethal technique designed to intercept and counterattack. But the prerequisite for a counterattack is the ability to detect the opponent’s attack.

Chisei couldn’t predict Ruri’s strike. It felt like the hand of Death itself was reaching from the void, placing a finger on his forehead, commanding him to die in the next moment, without explanation. All he could do was obey.