Dragon Raja 4; Chapter 80: Dragon Song in Ultramarine Hall (5)

Dragon Raja 4

Pompeii Gattuso, the current head of the Gattuso family. This man held immense power in the hybrid world and was supposed to be shaping history. However, Pompeii hated responsibility and indulged in a life of wine and women. He hadn’t made a public appearance in almost a decade, freely delegating his authority to Frost. To outsiders, it seemed that Frost was the true decision-maker of the Gattuso family.

Could the world really be on the verge of collapse, forcing even this careless playboy to take an interest in its future?

“Your muscles look good, but can you make the bikini girls leave while we have this meeting?” Beowulf said coldly.

“They won’t spill any secrets—I’m wearing headphones.”

“I’m more concerned about you losing control and putting on an R-rated show in front of the underage lady in here!”

“Alright, alright, dear Beowulf, after all these years, you’ve gone from an old-fashioned man to an ancient one… Girls, go prepare the windsurfing boards, we’ll hit the water later. And remember to bring me some sunscreen… No more kissing, no more! I’m on a video call with respectable folks,” Pompeii Gattuso said as he waved off the bikini-clad women around him.

The butler standing behind Charlotte stepped forward to cover her eyes, while Duchess Laurent pretended to light a cigarette. The Vice Principal licked his lips, while the others kept their expressions neutral.

Pompeii wiped the lipstick from his face, then said, “I’m really troubled by my overflowing charm… But enough of that! Beowulf, let’s try to put ourselves in the Dragon King’s shoes. What do you think he’d do next?”

Beowulf pondered for a moment, “I would find the safest place to hatch, and through a secondary hatching process, regain a complete dragon body. It’s common knowledge that only a full dragon body can unleash a Dragon King’s true power.”

Pompeii shook his head, “A dragon body is important, yes, but the first thing he targeted was the dragon skeleton, which holds great significance to him. But he didn’t take the full set. Constantine’s dragon skeleton was split into two parts—one kept in the ice cellar, and the other stored in our family’s Pantheon of Ancestors. I’m certain his next target will be the other half. We used to have complete confidence in the Pantheon’s defenses, but since he managed to breach the ice cellar under your watch, it’s clear that the Pantheon’s defense system won’t hold up either. That’s why Frost is busy transferring the dragon skeleton to the underground vault of the Roman Bank.”

“You put your trust in a bank vault?” Cadmus asked sarcastically. “The Gattuso family truly is the wealthiest in the hybrid world.”

“Not all vaults are the same,” Pompeii boasted. “That vault was built in 1936 by the legendary designer Jacques Droz. He was a master in both mechanics and alchemy. Of the vaults he created, four remain untouched to this day, earning the title of the Four Great Miracles. Over the years, we’ve continuously upgraded the security using modern technology. The vault holds one-seventh of Europe’s monetary gold, which is crucial for stabilizing the euro. All the world’s greatest thieves have eyed that wealth, but no one has ever taken even a gram of gold from it.”

“And then what? You hide the dragon skeleton, preventing him from getting a full set, and he can’t fully transform into a Dragon King? Is the world saved?” Beowulf sneered.

Pompeii grinned wickedly, “Then our counterattack begins! First, we’ll adjust the trajectory of the “Divine Punishment”. It’s currently in geosynchronous orbit over the Pantheon. If that guy attacks the Pantheon, we’ll deal with him in the open wilderness nearby. If he attacks the Roman Bank, even better! I mentioned that no one’s ever taken gold from the vault, but that doesn’t mean no one’s ever tried. Jacques Droz’s design wasn’t to keep intruders out but to trap them inside. Once the intruder triggers the mechanism, dozens of security doors will drop, dividing the vault into many isolated compartments, and all the lock cores will self-destruct. I’m also planning to upgrade it within the next few days—burying a small nuke in the deepest layer of the vault. Those things are cheap on the black market, only a few million dollars a pop. Just like a pirate’s treasure trove, it doubles as a tomb for adventurers. I’m not afraid of him coming—I’m afraid he won’t come!”

The participants exchanged silent glances, astonished by the ruthless nature of this seemingly carefree man. Even Beowulf’s disdainful expression faded slightly.

“I get what you old timers think. You see our family as nouveau riche, but the nouveau riche have their ways. You all slay dragons with courage; our family slays dragons with money! To be blunt, in this world, if you have enough money, there’s no dragon you can’t deal with!” Pompeii declared proudly.

Meanwhile, Frost was descending in a large elevator, escorted by his guards, heading to the depths of the underground vault.

Though it was called a vault, it resembled a military base. Small windows on the side of the elevator offered views of the natural limestone rock layers outside. The elevator shaft and tunnels had been carved out of these layers, reaching 800 meters below ground. Above the shaft stood the main building of the Roman Bank, a modest four-story structure. The legendary designer Jacques Droz had once boasted that his design was akin to storing the depositors’ wealth in hell itself, where only those brave enough to descend into the depths of hell could retrieve it. Surrounding the elevator shaft was a network of tunnels, forming a vast maze that had been dug by a long-deceased dictator as a doomsday fortress in case Rome fell.

Frost’s phone rang. It was a video call.

He answered, and Pompeii’s face filled the screen. “Hey, brother, how’s it going? I’m here at a meeting with the old boys of the Council. They’re really concerned about you, but more about the dragon skeleton. Why don’t you say hi?”

Frost’s expression remained unchanged. “We’re currently inside the Roman Bank’s underground vault, transporting the dragon skeleton. We’re 60 meters deep, heading to the lowest level.”

He aimed the camera at the bronze, ornate chest in the center of the elevator. The box looked ancient, with intricate vine-like patterns covering its surface. One side bore a golden lion’s head, while the other had an eagle’s head—symbols of the mightiest creatures of the sky and earth, guarding the contents within. It was actually the coffin of an ancient king from the Mesopotamian region, though no one could confirm its original owner. When it was discovered, only scattered bones were inside, a testament to the violent end of its occupant.

The guards lifted the lid, and the people in the Hall of Heroes watching the video call could see the contents. Some of their faces turned pale, while others hid their shock.

The dragon skeleton Cross was an item most of them were seeing for the first time. It radiated both evil and majesty, instilling fear and awe in anyone who gazed upon it. The Gattuso family had chosen to store it in this ancient alchemical relic, likely as both a sign of respect for this supreme entity and a means to suppress its lingering, unsettled soul.

Frost turned the camera back to himself. “We’ve created a specialized chamber for it, enveloped in a self-sustaining alchemical matrix. No physical or psychic detection can penetrate its shell. The entire vault will be placed on a semi-balanced axis. If there’s any unauthorized intrusion, it will tip into a tank of liquid glass, which will harden within three minutes.”

He, too, was proud. In terms of wealth and technology, the Gattuso family was not inferior to the main Cassell campus. The “Divine Punishment” had once stunned the Gear Department, causing several researchers to submit their resignations in a single day, eager to join the Gattuso family’s research lab instead. This vault was another testament to the family’s brilliance, blending human technology with dragon alchemy, and even incorporating elements of Eastern mysticism.

But his pride froze on his face as the shrill sound of an alarm echoed from below, and red lights flickered inside the elevator.

“Someone’s ambushing you in the vault! Brother, get out of there!” Pompeii shouted in panic. “Damn it! They’re too fast! I haven’t even ordered my nuke yet!”

In this critical moment, Frost remained calm, his status as acting head of the family coming through. With a single glance, his guards formed a protective circle around him. Their golden eyes lit up, bones cracking as their skeletons began to harden, transforming them into monstrous figures. Each of these guards would be rated A-level in the college’s bloodline system, but in the Gattuso family, they were merely bodyguards or senior servants. The family’s evaluation of bloodlines was strange like that—though S-ranked, Frost was still a servant to the A-ranked Caesar.

In the Hall of Heroes, the meeting participants all stood up, their golden eyes glowing fiercely, casting away the blue light of the projections.

The Roman Bank was over 10,000 kilometers away from Cassell’s main campus, but the audacity of the attacker to strike during their video call was an intolerable insult—and also the signal for the final battle.

Beowulf roared, “Pompeii! Open up your system! EVA, hack into their system and mark the evacuation route! Rome division, mobilize everyone!”

“Are you kidding me? That vault holds one-seventh of Europe’s gold reserves! How can I just hand over control? Are you going to take responsibility if something goes wrong?” Pompeii barked back.

Despite his earlier bravado, Pompeii now revealed his miserly nature. No one knew when he was serious, but it seemed he had no qualms about contradicting himself.

EVA appeared to be deep in thought, her luminous blue eyes reflecting unreadable lines of code.

Pompeii’s refusal to grant access didn’t matter. At Beowulf’s command, EVA forcefully hacked into the Roman Bank’s security system, taking over most of the operations. The elevator carrying Frost and his team screeched to a halt, then accelerated upward at full speed. Explosions echoed from below as pre-planted bombs destroyed the passage.

The elevator shaft filled with a choking yellow-green smoke—the vapor from refined sulfur. Humans couldn’t breathe in this environment, and for dragons, this sulfuric mist was deadly poison.

EVA’s voice came through Frost’s earpiece: “The alarm for the lower vault has been triggered. The intruder is right below you! The vault will be completely sealed in one minute. The escape route has been opened for you!”

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