Dragon Raja 3; Chapter 469: Dark Day (8)

Dragon Raja 3

“Can they really create test-tube babies just from a bit of genetic material? Are you sure you didn’t make a mistake?” Uesugi asked, eyes wide. A Death Servitor tried to attack him from the side, but he casually snapped its neck with the back of his sword.

Being both heirs of royal blood, Uesugi’s bloodline exhibited far greater advantages than that of Chisei and Chime, the two brothers. Test-tube babies had inherent limitations—human science had not yet advanced to fully replicate dragon-blooded genes.

“I’m not entirely certain, but if we make it off this island, you can take them for a paternity test. You know what that is, right? These days, paternity tests aren’t that high-tech. Any lab can tell you whether or not they’re your sons for a bit of money.”

At this moment, Anjou couldn’t reveal more to Uesugi. If he told this father, who had just rushed in asking for his sons’ names, that his children were in the process of dying, Uesugi might lose the will to keep fighting. And right now, Uesugi was their strongest asset on this island—he was once the pinnacle of hybrid-kind.

“Damn it! I came all this way to find you, and that’s all you’ve got for me? You don’t even have a photo for me to see?” Uesugi still glared at him.

Anjou understood his feelings. This information was far too little for a father. Anjou wished he had a photo of Chisei or Chime to show Uesugi, but he didn’t. No media had ever published their pictures. Whether it was Osho of the Yamata no Orochi clan or the Dragon King of the Oni Clan, both were shadowy figures. Their images were never to be made public, so even if Anjou tried to search online, there would be nothing.

Thinking about it, Tokyo was such a massive city—13 million people living within it. For many years, father and sons had walked down different streets in the same city, but the crowds kept them apart. They might have passed by each other but never realized who the other was.

Anjou could only stare back at Uesugi. The two fell into a long silence, both swinging their weapons, striking down the approaching Death Servitors. If the Servitors had any intelligence, they would have been driven mad by these two old men, but fortunately, they didn’t—they just kept mindlessly surging toward the platform.

“Are they handsome?” Uesugi finally broke the silence.

“They are,” Anjou nodded. “The older one is more handsome, while the younger is so delicate he almost looks like a girl, but both are very good-looking.”

“Are they stubborn?” Uesugi asked again.

“Both are very stubborn,” Anjou paused, “to the point of foolishness.”

“They’re not a couple of idiots, are they?”

“No, they’re both smart—too smart, in fact. That’s why they’ve suffered so much,” Anjou said softly.

“Do girls like them?”

“There should be plenty. They have different styles, but both seem like the type girls would fall for.” Anjou silently hoped Uesugi wouldn’t ask whether they had girls they loved. Those girls had all been consumed by the cruel underworld war.

Uesugi asked no more questions. For a moment, his eyes grew distant as if his mind had wandered. The sea wind blew through his white hair, making him look so old, yet his gaze was filled with warmth.

“Maybe they really are my sons. They sound like me,” he muttered, though it didn’t seem like he was speaking to Anjou but rather to himself.

Anjou thought to himself, You’re overthinking it. Just because they’re handsome, smart, stubborn, and popular with girls, does that automatically make them your sons? You should be looking for your kids among Tokyo’s talent agencies where all the handsome, smart, and popular young men are. But he couldn’t bring himself to say that out loud. After all, in the eyes of these old fathers, their sons were supposed to be handsome, smart, popular, and a bit stubborn—or rather, very stubborn.

Perhaps, in the eyes of the chess master father who had disowned Koeru, he had once been that kind of boy too?

“Hey! It’s not over yet! Let’s talk about whether we can get off this cursed island first!” Anjou scanned the advancing Death Servitors.

The rising seawater and Servitor hordes had completely cut off their escape route. In the distance, Chu Zihang was waving, indicating that the sulfur bombs were ready. They needed to board the helicopters before the bombs detonated. Three helicopters were now hovering in the sky—one had brought Anjou and his group, another carried the sulfur bombs, and the last one was sent for Uesugi. However, the strong winds had pushed two of the helicopters away from the island. Only the one carrying the sulfur bombs, equipped for all-weather flying, was managing to hold its position. But it couldn’t come closer to pick them up. If it took off, the winds would prevent it from approaching the island again. Clearly, Caesar and Chu Zihang had realized this and were frantically signaling for Anjou and Uesugi to hurry and join them.

After unleashing his third-degree Blood Rage, Anjou no longer had the strength to carve a path through the horde of Death Servitors. Fortunately, by his side stood Koeru, the last rightful heir of the royal bloodline, an anomaly who could be called a “human-shaped dragon.”

Uesugi had already returned Violence and Greed to Anjou and was now wielding two Japanese swords adorned with ancient patterns. These were “Tang-style Broadswords,” modeled after weapons from the Tang Dynasty. Such relics would typically be enshrined in museums, and Uesugi had several dozen similarly valuable ancient blades in his travel bag.

“Where did you get so many ancient swords? Their combined value must surpass the land you own,” Anjou remarked.

“When I ran away from home, I raided my family’s sword museum. I thought I could live comfortably by selling a few, but it turns out dealing in antiques is troublesome. I was also afraid my family would find out, so I’ve kept them hidden until now,” Uesugi replied, turning to face the incoming swarm of Death Servitors, drawing perfect circles with his dual blades.

The sword arcs formed a flawless circumference, glowing with a reddish hue. It resembled the sun during a total solar eclipse, where the moon obscures the sunlight but the brilliant corona still shines around its edges. This wasn’t an ordinary Yanling—it was Black Sun, a forbidden power beyond the limits of what any textbook could describe.

Anjou slowly stepped back to avoid being caught in the destructive force of this forbidden Yanling. He had seen the outcome of Black Sun before; it was as if Death itself had descended into the world.

Uesugi stood at the center of this black sun, reciting ancient verses. At that moment, he seemed like a Buddha statue amidst flowing flames, radiating a profound calm and immeasurable authority.

Everyone instinctively held their breath, witnessing this godlike spectacle. It wasn’t just a Yanling; it was more like a ritual—one where a mere human body reached into the realm of dragon kings.

The Black Sun began to spin, rapidly consuming the air, whipping up fierce gales. In an instant, the winds around the artificial island shifted, sweeping up debris and seawater toward the black sun. Even the Death Servitors, clawing at the ground to avoid being blown away, couldn’t escape the pull. Their tails were yanked skyward, creating an eerie spectacle of countless serpent tails swaying in the air.

“Is this even possible with a Yanling?” Caesar could hardly believe his eyes.

Chu Zihang remained silent. The reality was undeniable, whether they believed it or not. Those who hadn’t reached the peak could never imagine the view from the summit. In that moment, Chu Zihang clearly realized that, despite thousands of years of exploration, the Secret Party had only scratched the surface of dragon civilization.

Koeru was merely a human who had approached the level of a dragon king. What unimaginable power lay deeper within that civilization? How terrifying must the Black Emperor have been? And how could such a fearsome being have been killed by mere humans?

The Black Sun suddenly contracted, and the intensified winds pulled the Death Servitors toward Uesugi. Before they could even reach him, the high temperatures had ignited them. But in the thin air, they didn’t burst into flames but instead glowed red-hot like burning embers.

Uesugi strode forward with ease, slicing the burning Servitors into fragments. As the pieces touched the edge of the Black Sun, they disintegrated into white ash, forming a cloud of dust behind Uesugi that drifted toward the pitch-black sea. In this moment, Uesugi was like the manifestation of Death itself, incinerating everything at will. The Black Sun pulled hundreds of Death Servitors toward him, their serpentine forms engulfing him entirely before shattering apart. The pressure on his sword grew with each strike, and soon Uesugi let out a roar as fierce as a dragon’s. His Tang-style broadsword turned a glowing red from the heat, each swing radiating brilliant flashes of fire.

He was a war machine, crushing everything in his path.

Anjou guarded Uesugi’s vulnerable flanks, his twin blades Violence and Greed cutting down any Death Servitors attempting to ambush them. Like Uesugi, Anjou roared as he fought, and together the two old men—who should have been sitting in wheelchairs—created a storm of violence, carving a bloody path through the horde.

If this had been a regular war, the enemy soldiers would have broken down under such overwhelming force, fleeing in terror. But the Death Servitors knew no fear of death; they continued to press forward.