Dragon Raja 3; Chapter 280: A Friend of Justice (16)

Dragon Raja 3

Caesar kicked Chisei square in the chest, pinning him to the elevator floor with a ferocious expression. “You’re not going anywhere! If my friend doesn’t make it out, neither do you! Remember this—you’re the last one out!”

“What’s the point of this impulsiveness? On the battlefield, everyone is expendable! As the leader, your duty is to maximize the survival of your team!” Chisei shouted hoarsely.

“No! I’m not the leader! I’m,” Caesar growled, emphasizing each word, “the friend of justice! You once asked if I was a friend of justice, right? Yes! I am! Never leaving a friend behind—that’s my justice! I live for my justice, and I’ll die for it too!”

He grabbed Chisei by the hair, slamming his head into the metal floor, and tied him up with the purple silk rope from his waist. At this moment, Caesar had to restrain Chisei. If he turned to save Chu Zihang, Chisei would certainly operate the elevator and escape. Caesar had already seen through these devious Japanese—they would always stab you in the back under the guise of “righteousness.”

“I can’t stand an unjust version of myself. If there truly is such a person in the world… I’ll be the first to kill him!” Caesar delivered a hard kick to Chisei before turning and darting toward the fire.

Chu Zihang rolled to the ground, trying to keep low to breathe in some oxygen. Black blood gushed from the serpent-man’s eyes after Chu Zihang’s reverse sword strike, known as the “Su Qin Carries His Sword.” Enduring the excruciating pain in his skull, he had managed to blind the serpent-man. His ribs ached in agony—the serpent’s previous strike had pierced the chest armor he hadn’t yet discarded, and the red-hot blade had still seared his waist.

He glanced toward the elevator, but all he could see was fire and smoke. He was positioned almost at the heart of the firestorm, surrounded by dozens of Death Servitors.

This was truly the final battle of his life. The explosives would go off at any moment, taking the Death Servitors with him. Whether he resisted or not, the outcome would be the same. But even so, he tightened his grip on both swords, assuming the stance for Niten Ichi-ryū.

Looking back on his life, stubbornness had been both his greatest strength and his biggest flaw—a stubbornness deeply ingrained in his bones. That stubbornness had led him to take control of his own fate, find Cassell College, and change his life. It had also kept him from ever truly understanding the girl named Xia Mi. He stubbornly rejected everyone, living alone in the corner of the crowd. In some ways, he realized he was as much of a self-righteous fool as Caesar, always thinking he was different from others and refusing to bow to anything “worldly.”

Even now, at the end of his life, he stubbornly held onto his swords. Gripping the hilts was the only feeling that made him feel truly alive.

The serpent-man moved in a painful yet graceful manner, his twin blades glowing red as they carved bright arcs in the air, slowly advancing on Chu Zihang. The other Death Servitors were crouched low, their long tails forming twisted S-shapes behind them. This was their preparation for an attack, their spines coiling and muscles tightening. When they struck, they would launch forward with the force of a drawn bowstring. It was a scene reminiscent of wolves hunting a powerful stallion. The pack held the overwhelming advantage, but the stallion’s hooves could crush a wolf’s skull. The strongest wolf led the assault head-on, while the others waited for an opening when the stallion would be preoccupied, ready to sink their claws into its belly.

Chu Zihang’s attention was focused entirely on the serpent-man’s twin blades. Though blinded, the serpent-man’s combat skills hadn’t weakened much. Using his keen sense of smell, he locked onto Chu Zihang, spinning his blades in a whirlwind of searing heat. In life, this Death Servitor must have been an avid practitioner of swordsmanship. The endless hours of training, the repeated practice of attack and defense routines, were etched deeply into its muscle memory, surviving even after its mutation.

Yagyu Shinkage-ryū’s Five-Direction Stance—Chu Zihang could vaguely identify the serpent-man’s sword style. This was not a specific technique but a basic training pattern involving cuts from five angles: upper, middle, lower, under the right arm, and under the left arm. The serpent-man repeated these movements in a constant cycle, and with its extraordinary reach, the space around it was filled with fiery blade arcs, seemingly impenetrable.

Chu Zihang gripped Kumogiri tightly in his right hand, hiding the blade under his left arm. He had only one chance to strike. When he drew his blade, he needed to sever the serpent-man’s spine and disable it entirely, or there wouldn’t be time to deal with the Death Servitors closing in from behind.

With a sudden stomp, he launched himself at the serpent-man, creating distance from the pack while leaping into the air. The serpent-man’s height approached three meters when it straightened up, so Chu Zihang had to jump to behead it.

A sharp whistling came from behind—another blade slicing through the air! Was there a second Death Servitor capable of wielding a weapon? Chu Zihang, midair, had no time to dodge and met the incoming crimson blade head-on.

Kumogiri only managed to cut into the serpent-man’s chest as the other blade disrupted Chu Zihang’s timing. But surprisingly, he landed safely in front of the serpent-man. At the crucial moment, the serpent-man’s blade dance abruptly stopped—a knife had embedded itself in its forehead!

A black hunting knife! The blade had been thrown from a short distance, grazing Chu Zihang’s cheek before impaling the serpent-man’s skull!

Chu Zihang couldn’t help but smile. So, there was at least one other person in the world as stubborn as he was. A shadow burst through the wall of flames, firing two submachine guns in wide arcs. That was just like him—always carrying the aura of a king, no matter the situation.

“Get down!” Caesar roared.

Chu Zihang flipped backward, running a few meters before dropping flat to the ground. The serpent-man reached up, pulling the hunting knife from its forehead, and raised it high, letting out a furious hiss in all directions.

Despite Caesar’s immense strength and the sharpness of Dictator, the knife had only penetrated two inches. For a Death Servitor, that wasn’t a fatal wound. But attached to the knife was a small lump of C4 explosive!

A blinding flash erupted from the serpent-man’s hand. The blast and searing heat engulfed the area, throwing Caesar, Chu Zihang, and the Death Servitors away from the explosion’s epicenter. Caesar and Chu Zihang, covered in dust and soot, sat up to see the Death Servitor still standing at the center of the blast—its upper body reduced to nothing but bronze-colored bones, burning like a half-melted candle.

Chisei had been right. The Death Servitors’ body fat was highly flammable once it came into contact with direct fire, and C4 had made that possible.

“Even after death, striking a pose like the Statue of Liberty—you really are a joke!” Caesar raised his gun and fired at the burning serpent-man.

The serpent-man’s body collapsed with a crash, its hand still gripping Dictator, which slid across the floor. The knife’s ebony handle was burning, and the ivory inlay was charred black, but the alchemically crafted blade remained intact. Caesar retrieved Dictator and sheathed it under his coat. Chu Zihang removed the remaining pieces of armor, tossing them into the flames. Caesar grabbed a Sten submachine gun with both hands, tossing another to Chu Zihang. Chu Zihang drew a Winchester shotgun from his coat, throwing another one to Caesar.

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