Dragon Raja 3; Chapter 213: Boy in the Thorns (16)

Dragon Raja 3

Anjou threw a baseball straight at Setsuko. The short swords couldn’t deflect such a heavy object, and the ball struck her squarely on the forehead.

The “swallow return” was taken down with a single swing.

Anjou caught the falling Setsuko in a classic princess carry, chuckling to himself. “It’s a shame that such a masculine task fell to an old man like me.”

He dropped Setsuko unceremoniously to the side, picked up his bat, and strode forward. The bat swung with a powerful whoosh, knocking down one girl after another. Each time a girl tried to raise her blade, the bat would descend before she could even react.

They had all misjudged Anjou. In their eyes, he was just an old man, and old men were meant to be ridiculed by the young. They flaunted their sensuality, mocking him with their youth. But in that moment, Anjou was not a gentleman at all—he was a ruthless enforcer. He was like a strict school principal, and no matter how the girls squirmed or acted arrogantly, he showed no mercy.

“Sorry, but I’m too old. Seduction doesn’t work as a weapon on me,” Anjou said, lifting one of the musicians into the air and casually tossing her aside. “Flirting with a man who could be your great-great-grandfather isn’t going to get you anywhere.”

Yimei retrieved a cross-shaped spear from the weapon rack. In ancient times, this was a weapon used by generals on horseback. Of course, there were no horses in Tamamo-mae, so Yimei mounted a Harley Davidson on the second floor, revved it up, and charged into the dance floor.

She used the motorcycle as a shield and unleashed the essence of the Hōzōin spear style. While her usual roles depicted her as the girl-next-door, any director watching this moment would regret miscasting her. Just from this thrust alone, she could easily play a female version of Sanada Yukimura.

The spear was snatched from her hands, and Anjou kicked the motorcycle’s fuel tank, sending it flying into a corner while Yimei dangled in mid-air, held up by his grip.

“Why are you Japanese so obsessed with Bushido? Spear techniques in modern times—what’s the point?” Anjou hung Yimei on a nearby coat rack.

Kanon kicked off her high heels and grabbed a heavy sniper rifle. She was an ace sniper, having once hit a mackerel leaping out of the sea from a distance of 1,500 meters. In today’s situation, however, her skills weren’t much use—she was here as eye candy more than anything else. But after so many losses, she felt the need to restore some dignity to the Inuyama clan. Unfortunately, she couldn’t fire a shot. Anjou moved too quickly, never giving her a chance to aim.

Even Ayane, the rising star in ice ballet, pulled out her weapon: an Apagake 122mm rocket launcher! Kanon quickly abandoned her rifle and leapt toward Ayane, realizing that using such a weapon in Tamamo-mae was sheer madness. Not only would Anjou be killed, but all of them would be dragged down with him.

Ayane’s family had a history of bipolar disorder, and she was prone to impulsive actions. In one international competition, she had even thrown her ice skates at a judge in protest.

In their scuffle, Ayane pulled the trigger. But the rocket launcher didn’t fire—because a folding knife had pierced the top, cutting through the trigger’s mechanism.

Anjou was already standing on the second floor, his chest pressed against the barrel of the rocket launcher. He frowned as he looked at the two trembling young women and then punched Ayane hard on the side of her face.

“Next time, keep an eye on her and don’t give dangerous weapons to lunatics,” Anjou said to Kanon, snapping his fingers in approval for restraining Ayane. Then, he flipped over and leapt back into the dance floor.

As the music ended, Anjou swung two baseball bats, knocking six girls to the ground. He was the only one left standing, his muscles relaxed but steaming with sweat. His silhouette was as formidable as that of a young man.

A thunderous boom echoed from above. Anjou looked up to see a massive red silk banner descending from the ceiling, embroidered with a golden “卍” symbol. He pulled the “Ichimonji Norimune” sword from the center of the dance floor and slashed it through the air, splitting the red banner in two. The silk fell, covering the entire floor of Tamamo-mae, while Anjou, holding two swords, turned to face Inuyama, who was slowly descending the stairs. No matter how brutal the beating of the dancers, musicians, or adopted daughters had been, Inuyama had remained on the third floor, smoking his pipe as if the fight had nothing to do with him. It was only when the music and the group battle ended that he tapped the ashes from his pipe, sliced through the rope holding the red silk, and descended.

For the first time, Anjou showed a serious expression. He slowly rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. As Inuyama descended, he shed his kimono, revealing the vivid “Enma Battle” tattoo on his back. The blade of Onimaru Kunitsuna trembled in its scabbard.

This was a battle between Yasha and tigers, Enma and demons. Both tattoos were so lifelike that it seemed as though mythical beasts had come to life, their battlefield spread across the red silk draped over Tamamo-mae.

“After all these years, seeing your ‘Time Zero’ again—it’s just as elusive as ever!” Inuyama praised.

Though his face had shown rage moments before, now that the true fight was upon him, Inuyama was as calm as water.

“Don’t speak to me as if my Yanling is some treasured sword,” Anjou chuckled. “Why don’t you use your Satsuna? Back in the day, you could reach the seventh tier. Now that you’re older, can you still climb that high?”

“Let me show you our resolve,” Inuyama said, slowly crouching as he placed his hand on the hilt of Onimaru Kunitsuna. He gazed down at the sword handle, as if deep in thought.

The dance floor fell into a deathly silence. Though the flashes of blades had disappeared, the killing intent was now tenfold. The girls anxiously stood by the walls, leaving as much space as possible for Anjou and Inuyama. This was a real duel. Despite his earlier rage, Inuyama hadn’t lost his reason. He knew Anjou far too well. Once Time Zero was activated, no amount of numbers could overwhelm him. The girls’ blades could be as sharp as they liked, and their swordsmanship as refined as possible. But in Anjou’s eyes, if their speed was merely a fraction of his own, their lethal strikes would look as harmless as a child’s flailing arms.

This was Time Zero, known as the assassin’s Yanling—a paradox among Yanlings. Anyone using this power could slip into the cracks of time, never missing an opportunity. It was like how Anjou drove his heavily modified Maserati, finding those fractions of a second to overtake other cars. Someone who never missed a single moment was truly invincible—unless his opponent’s speed could nullify the effects of Time Zero.

There was only one Yanling capable of such a feat: Satsuna.

Satsuna exponentially increased the user’s speed, doubling it with each tier. At the first tier, speed would increase twofold, at the second tier fourfold, at the third tier eightfold, and so on. At the seventh tier, the speed could reach 128 times the original.

Series Navigation

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