Dragon Raja 3; Chapter 276: A Friend of Justice (12)

Dragon Raja 3

“Oh! Japanese weapons seem more effective than Cassell’s mercury core bullets!” Caesar exclaimed with excitement.

This Colt revolver was equipped with explosive mercury rounds developed by the Ganryū Research Institute, and only this large-caliber, old-fashioned revolver could fire such dangerous explosive rounds.

Chu Zihang pinned a Death Servitor to a pillar. Caesar had blasted a hole in the creature’s abdomen, and mercury was rapidly corroding its body. Despite the solid cross spear impaling its chest, the Death Servitor still screeched and lunged at Chu Zihang, forcing the entire spear through its torso, with the gun pole dripping with thick, foul black blood. Chu Zihang tugged at the strap on his shoulder, dropping the bundle of long swords to the ground. He grabbed one and thrust it straight into the Death Servitor’s chest, severing its spine. The nervous system was the weak point of the Death Servitors, and once the spine was destroyed, it finally collapsed. Chu Zihang tucked the remaining long swords into his belt and pulled out a shotgun, pressing his back against Caesar’s.

Caesar had emptied all six explosive mercury rounds from the “Westward Watch” revolver, and the refined mercury vapor spread rapidly through the hall, accelerated by the fire and wind. The Death Servitors instinctively feared this smoke and hesitated to approach, giving Caesar time to suppress them with his submachine gun.

Step by step, they moved toward the center of the hall, surrounded by hundreds of Death Servitors. The eerie sound of infants crying echoed from all directions, and countless pale human faces appeared in the firelight. Some were old, others young. Some faces were grotesquely distorted, while others still resembled passersby one might meet on the street. There were shy young boys and seductive mature women, but as their skulls split open to reveal thorn-like fangs, they all transformed into terrifying demons.

“We’re like two mice barging into a snake pit, armed with slingshots,” Caesar said, tossing aside his Sten submachine gun and drawing a Winchester shotgun.

Both guns only managed to wound the Death Servitors’ skin, but the shotgun was more effective, with its powerful recoil at least pushing the creatures back. Caesar repeated the action of reloading and firing, brass casings clattering to the ground. There was no need to aim—every shot hit its target.

In the center of the hall, the strongest Death Servitors were feasting on the dead. They were twice the size of the others. From the beginning, they hadn’t joined the attack on Caesar and Chu Zihang, completely absorbed in devouring their banquet. First, they coated the corpses in mucus to lubricate them, then slowly swallowed them whole like snakes. It seemed that, like animal packs, the Death Servitors had a hierarchy. The strongest acted as the alpha, monopolizing the freshest kills, and none of the others dared challenge them, for fear they might be eaten by their own kind.

The Death Servitor closest to Caesar resembled a middle-aged bald man—at least, that was what he had been in life. Now, his bloated, grotesque form slithered on the ground, with his distended belly dragging across the floor. His head and neck, now twice their normal size, pulsed and writhed.

He turned to face Caesar and Chu Zihang, flashing what could be described as a smile. It wasn’t the first time the Death Servitors had displayed a smile-like expression. It seemed that this smile was a reaction of joy when the snake-like Death Servitors encountered food. They had driven Caesar and Chu Zihang to the center of the hall so the strongest of them could feast first.

The Winchester shotgun let out a burst of sparks as the round slammed into the bald Death Servitor, causing its upper body to jerk backward as though broken, leaving its bloated belly still on the ground.

“I’ve never liked baldness and bloating either!” Caesar roared.

While most people would be terrified by a Death Servitor’s twisted smile, Caesar and Chu Zihang were hardened warriors from Cassell College. Chu Zihang, his expression emotionless, pulled out his Sten submachine gun and opened fire, riddling the creature’s snake-like belly with bullet holes.

The Death Servitor slowly sat up, much like a human waking up from sleep. Its bloated abdomen undulated, rising segment by segment, and it transformed into a three-meter-tall giant, with its tail still coiled on the floor. Its tiny human torso looked absurdly out of place on its massive snake body, resembling a pregnant praying mantis.

“How much protein must this thing have consumed to get this big after becoming a Death Servitor?” Caesar muttered as he loaded new explosive mercury rounds into his “Westward Watch.”

Chu Zihang, gripping two swords, slowly stretched out his arms. There was no more room to retreat. This was their final battleground. All the Death Servitors had risen along with their leader, their powerful tails supporting their towering upper bodies, standing between two and three meters tall. Surrounding Caesar and Chu Zihang, the writhing snake forms looked like a grotesque forest of flesh, a scene only the wildest artist could imagine.

“Gentlemen, don’t you need to say a prayer before your meal?” Caesar snapped the revolver’s cylinder shut.

Ancient words of judgment descended from the sky, accompanied by a cold, cutting light—Hokushin Ittō-ryū: Frostfall!

A dark figure streaked down the back of the Death Servitor leader, trailing a brilliant blue slash. Dōjigiri Yasutsuna sliced in along the creature’s spine from the nape of its neck, breaking vertebrae as the blade descended. The Death Servitor collapsed like a snake whose backbone had been torn out. Chisei landed lightly and bent low, his right hand spinning the Kumogiri sword in a wide arc to sever the creature’s tail. The massive body lost its balance and toppled toward Gen, but he easily sidestepped, striking with both blades against the beast’s back. The sound of metal rang through the air as if hammering iron. The Death Servitor’s spine was as tough as steel, and Gen’s blades were cutting through it like iron.

The Death Servitor leader died in a single, devastating strike, leaving both Caesar and Chu Zihang chilled to the core. This was the power of Chisei at his most lethal—a force as terrifying as divine retribution.

Gen performed a double “blood shake” of his blades and continued chanting in an ancient language as he moved through the snake-formed forest. His voice quickened, and the booming sound reverberated through the hall, like a great bell ringing in a mountain temple. A domain was forming—an unknown Yanling was about to be unleashed.

Caesar and Chu Zihang fired wildly to keep the Death Servitors from approaching Gen, all while watching in awe as this mighty moment unfolded—the Emperor was about to release his Yanling.

As a Hybrid, everyone desires to know the limits of their Yanling, just like when Jordan, in his prime, would leap with the ball in hand—his opponents couldn’t help but admire his form for that brief moment.

The domain expanded slowly, seemingly gentle, with its boundaries glowing faintly. Inside the domain, the Death Servitors trembled, prostrating on the ground with their hands convulsing, pressing against the floor, and black tears flowing from their eyes.

Chu Zihang and Caesar were shocked. They didn’t feel any abnormality themselves, but the Death Servitors appeared to have been completely subdued, kneeling before Chisei as if they were defeated soldiers in front of a victorious king. The domain eventually encompassed the entire mural hall, and Chisei, wielding Dōjigiri and Kumogiri, walked among the Death Servitors, decapitating them one by one with his blades, cutting through them like a lawnmower. Black blood gushed from the severed necks as if from a fountain. The terrifying effect of Gen’s Yanling was that it compelled the enemies to willingly accept their slaughter.