Dragon Raja 4; Chapter 78: Dragon Song in Ultramarine Hall (3)

Dragon Raja 4

“With his mindset, how can he inherit our great family, let alone stand up to that supreme being?”

“We need to guide him more, but if patient guidance fails to teach him obedience, we must use the iron whip!”

The elders didn’t need verbal communication; their minds were linked in a way that allowed them to think as one. This was one of the secrets of the Pantheon.

“Enough!” Alpha’s shout silenced the dispute. “What’s the use of saying this now? When he was about to roar, didn’t you all feel fear?”

Meanwhile, in the sealed underground level of the Valhalla, the elders and School Board members stood before the life-support pod, looking through the glass at Anjou.

Anjou’s body was riddled with tubes, his face as gaunt as a corpse, but the fluid and blood in the tubes still circulated slowly, filtered through an external pump before returning to his body.

“His heart was nearly cut in half. Fortunately, the rescue team arrived in time and replaced his heart function with an external circulatory system,” the doctor explained. “We can’t say he’s out of danger yet. Half his life is still in Death’s hands—or, rather, in his own hands. If his will to live isn’t strong enough, he could stop breathing at any moment.”

Siegfried tapped the hard cover of the pod. “You’re our brother, and your heart burns with the fire of vengeance. Your enemy hasn’t been completely defeated, so please, don’t die.”

Though they weren’t particularly fond of Anjou, seeing him in such a state evoked a sense of grief and camaraderie in them.

“Did you call us here just to seek our blessings?” Beowulf asked coldly.

“We’re all aware that before this happened, each of you had a coffee with Anjou in Chicago,” said Lady Elizabeth Laurent. “He managed to sign a document at the last moment.”

“If you sign it as well, it would mean the old families regain their seats on the School Board,” added the youthful Charlotte Gautinger.

“You two want to recruit us to balance the Gattuso family?” Cadmus asked. “Think carefully. Bringing us in is easy, but getting rid of us won’t be.”

“In the face of true crises, I believe the elders know what choice to make. You are the guardians of a thousand-year history, while the Gattuso family represents the emperors of a new era,” Charlotte sighed. “But beyond the power struggle, what worries us most is an ultimate curse.”

“What curse are you referring to?” Cadmus’ expression changed slightly.

“Of course, the one even the Dragon Kings fear—the one who started it all and will end it all,” replied Lady Laurent.

“Is there any evidence pointing to him? If that creature truly awakens, it would be the apocalypse. We probably wouldn’t even have the chance to calmly discuss it here,” Saint George said.

The door creaked open, and the scent of strong alcohol wafted in. The current head of Cassell College finally arrived, fashionably late. His washed-out denim jacket, torn jeans, and middle-aged gut made him look more like a worn-out mule standing next to the impeccably dressed elders—though the elders were all quite old themselves.

The vice principal greeted each elder with a slap on the shoulder, blew kisses at Lady Laurent and Charlotte, then glanced at Anjou’s body in the medical pod. “Old friend! Keep fighting!”

“Master Flamel, it’s been a long time,” the elders nodded in greeting.

Though they didn’t necessarily respect this disreputable figure, the name “Flamel” still carried significant weight.

“You’re all still kicking?” The vice principal clasped his hands together. “Thanks for coming all this way to lend a hand, old pals. How about we grab a drink and some snacks while we talk?”

The name Flamel represented more than a bloodline—it stood for knowledge. The original Flamel was a Parisian scribe who rediscovered ancient alchemy from lost texts, becoming a master of the craft. In the early 15th century, he joined the Secret Party. Each generation of Flamel passed on the name to their most prized student. Fearing their power would be misused, the Flamels never shared all their alchemical secrets with the Secret Party, but they faithfully upheld their ancient promise to serve it. Even the Gautinger family, a prominent lineage of alchemists holding a seat on the School Board, acknowledged that Flamel had a deeper understanding of alchemical theory than they did.

“Forget the meal. Please, Master Flamel, update us on the current situation,” Cadmus said.

“It’s terrible for the college and for Anjou, but for me, this might actually be an opportunity. Maybe it’s finally my turn to be principal? Can I finally host the Cassell College Women’s Nude Swimming Championship?” the vice principal sighed. “But without Anjou to enjoy it with me, it feels a bit empty. EVA, tell everyone what happened during Anjou’s assassination attempt.”

A glowing blue beam of light projected behind the vice principal, casting shadows. A girl floated in the air, her body almost translucent, with her long hair and skirt rippling like waves.

“The principal’s assassination occurred after he parted ways with the elders on his way to O’Hare Airport. Four unidentified large vehicles trapped his Maserati between them, and they sprayed a strong adhesive on the car, sealing the doors and windows. His car was forcibly directed to the center of a 1.6-kilometer-long tunnel, and both ends of the tunnel were blocked off. At first, I thought the assassins intended to blow up the tunnel, but what happened exceeded my expectations…”

Holographic beams shot from all directions, weaving into a net. As the net swiftly scanned the area, the surroundings changed completely. Everyone found themselves standing in a dark tunnel, with a wrecked Maserati in the middle. The only light source was the car’s headlights, where Anjou sat in the driver’s seat, muttering to himself. The group couldn’t make out what he was saying, only hearing the distant hum of a ventilation fan.

Everyone circled the Maserati, fully immersed in the scene. Every detail was so realistic, but when they attempted to touch the car, their hands passed right through the image, leaving behind faint blue interference ripples.

“The footage you are seeing is not from a live recording. Both ends of the tunnel were sealed, and my communication with Principal Anjou was cut off. However, the car’s internal and external cameras kept recording. I used that footage to create a 3D reconstruction. The reconstruction might not be entirely accurate, but without those cameras, the principal’s fate might have remained a mystery forever,” EVA’s voice echoed. “Now, pay attention. This is when things became unusual…”

Suddenly, a light rain began falling inside the tunnel. Anjou blinked in surprise, slowly sitting up as his golden eyes ignited.

The onlookers’ own golden eyes flared with fear, their dragon blood surging in response.

“Charlotte, you should understand what’s happening, right?” the vice principal asked. “Someone brought their domain into the tunnel.”

“One of the easiest mediums to manipulate in alchemy is water. That space is being infiltrated! But such a feat,” Charlotte whispered, “is reserved for the supreme!”

Inside the car, Anjou opened a folding knife, gripping it in reverse. He reclined his seat until it was nearly flat, then sprang into a crouch like a leopard about to strike. Through the windshield, he stared fixedly ahead, as if his enemy had arrived and the outcome of the battle would be decided by the next move.

The group also focused nervously on the area illuminated by the car’s headlights, but they saw nothing. The rain intensified, turning from a drizzle to a torrential downpour within seconds. The tunnel quickly flooded until the water reached their ankles, and they could faintly hear the rumble of thunder. The thunder grew louder, creeping closer, as if someone were walking toward them, each step accompanied by the sound of thunder.

Charlotte shivered in fear, and Lady Laurent hugged her protectively. Beowulf’s shoulders trembled, and white scales began to appear near his eyes, while Siegfried instinctively gripped the black case that was always by his side.

A flash of lightning streaked through the tunnel, accompanied by a piercing shriek, as though a razor-sharp wind had just sliced through the air. Anjou’s body trembled slightly but remained motionless. Even though they knew the scene was only a holographic replay, the normally steadfast Lady Laurent tightened her embrace around Charlotte. Saint George, ever the gentleman, stepped forward to shield them, his golden eyes blazing as if they might erupt in flames.

The thunder gradually receded, and the rain in the tunnel stopped, dissipating the tense atmosphere. The group looked around in confusion.

“That’s it?” Cadmus asked, perplexed.

“His folding knife!” Siegfried exclaimed, “It’s gone!”

Anjou maintained his earlier posture, but his hand was now empty.

Before Siegfried could finish speaking, the Maserati’s front and rear windshields exploded simultaneously, and a massive spray of blood erupted from Anjou’s chest, blooming like a red rose.

The scene froze at this moment. EVA said, “This was the entire assassination. It was over in an instant. I’ll now replay it in slow motion.”

A virtual clock, previously hidden in the corner, jumped forward five seconds. The onlookers watched as the shattered glass reassembled, and the blood in Anjou’s chest flowed back in, as though time itself was rewinding. They finally noticed a shadowy figure in the lightning flash. The reason they hadn’t seen him earlier wasn’t due to their lack of sharpness but because he had appeared for only a fraction of a second—too short for the image to fully form on their retinas.

In that fleeting moment, the shadow swung his arm, and Anjou did the same. Anjou’s intense movement seemed as if he intended to leap through the windshield, but he poured all his strength into his folding knife and threw it. The knife collided midair with the object thrown by the shadow. The shrill sound they had heard earlier was the result of these two high-speed projectiles slicing through the air. Anjou’s knife was deflected, but the shadow’s weapon pierced the Maserati’s front windshield, then Anjou’s chest, and finally the rear windshield.