Dragon Raja 3; Chapter 474: The Jester (2)

Dragon Raja 3

He began to chant softly in an ancient, long-lost language, with a grammar structure that was completely indecipherable but possessed an extraordinary beauty in its cadence. Usually, when dragon language was chanted, it echoed through the entire field like the ringing of a giant bell. But when Ruri activated his Yanling, it was more like a soft lullaby, expanding the transparent boundary of his domain. Chisei couldn’t escape before he was enveloped by it. He had prepared himself for everything, yet he felt no killing intent from Ruri’s Yanling; Ruri was simply singing him a serene song.

He found himself enraptured by it, hearing the gentle fall of autumn rain and the sound of temple bells within the song. As Ruri sang, the stench of blood in the air quickly faded, replaced by the scent of grass and trees, and the sound of flowing water grew closer.

Suddenly, he snapped back to reality, realizing that he had once again returned to that mountain village. The Katori Shrine stood beneath the dark night sky, and a clear stream flowed through the village, which was shrouded in gentle rain. The long grass at his feet swayed in the wind.

Time seemed to have rewound itself. He was seventeen years old again, back in that village before it was abandoned.

At seventeen, Chisei, with a long sword on his back, returned to the village where he grew up. He was the youngest member of the Execution Bureau, tasked with eliminating the evil spirit hiding in the village. At the same time, he was there to visit his younger brother. At that moment, all the tragedies had yet to unfold. He believed firmly in justice, and the most important person in the world to him was his brother, Chime. There was no conflict between these two beliefs. He was determined to perform well, to make a name for himself, and to one day take his brother to Tokyo and live a life of luxury.

He stood at the entrance to the village, facing two paths. The left fork led to Katori Shrine, where he would witness his brother’s evil side. The right fork led to the small house they shared, where he would find his brother returning home after his misdeeds. They would be happy, perhaps play the game console Chisei had brought back, or cook a pot of soup with leftover ingredients, sitting by the fire and talking about life in Tokyo.

Both versions of Chime were real—the evil one and the one who trusted and relied on him. He could choose.

Yanling: Dream Tapir. No one would have guessed that a demon like Ruri would possess such a non-aggressive Yanling. But it was also the most dangerous one.

Because the existence of White Empress’ descendants has never been confirmed, the White Empress line of Yanling remains blank in the periodic table of Yanling. There are only names and speculative effects, none of which have been verified. Dream Tapir is one such Yanling. Its name comes from a Japanese myth, referring to a dream-eating beast called “Tapir.” The Tapir is typically seen as a timid and gentle creature that silently approaches people having nightmares in the night, consuming their nightmares and giving them a peaceful sleep before retreating into the depths of the forest with the nightmares it’s consumed. However, nightmares are the worst and most terrifying emotions, impossible to fully digest. Thus, the Tapir merely stores these terrifying emotions within itself. On the day it dies, it can no longer contain those nightmares, and all of them turn into reality in an instant, engulfing the people closest to the Tapir. No one can escape from the innumerable, layered nightmares.

Historically, Dream Tapir was recorded mostly as a form of illusion. During the Edo period, a book called Daigo Zuihitsu documented the story of a monk named Kakin Kyoji using illusions on his lord, Matsunaga Hisahide. When Hisahide asked the monk to scare him with illusions, Kakin Kyoji stepped down from the platform, and suddenly the courtyard was filled with wind. Dark clouds covered the moon, and fallen leaves scattered all around. Then, it began to rain heavily. The courtyard was pitch black, and faintly standing there was a beautiful woman who said to Hisahide, “My lord, you must be feeling lonely tonight?” Hisahide suddenly realized that it was his beloved concubine who had passed away several years ago. A man who had killed many, scorned the gods, and even dared to burn down temples, Hisahide found himself unable to escape from Kakin Kyoji’s illusion and had to shout for him to stop.

Dream Tapir is this kind of legendary mental control Yanling. It traps those caught within its domain in nightmares, making it almost impossible for them to escape, even if they realize it’s only a dream.

Chisei knew clearly that he was standing inside a dream, yet he couldn’t break free because everything felt too real. With his strong will, he could normally force his way out of any dream, but this nightmare was different.

It wasn’t just Ruri’s nightmare—it was also Chisei’s. Dream Tapir had awakened their shared nightmare.

Deep in the Red Well, the two figures stood facing each other at a distance. Ruri’s pupils spun with golden mandala-like patterns, and the same patterns appeared in Chisei’s eyes. He couldn’t tear his gaze away and was forced to look into Ruri’s nightmare.

Mechanically, he began to walk forward, feeling as though he was once again walking through the rainy night from many years ago.

The long grass beneath his feet rustled in the wind, sounding like the waves of the ocean. The farther he walked, the clearer the dragon-like curved roof of Katori Shrine became. On either side of the wet path were stone statues of Jizo, carved from coal. One statue covered its eyes, another its ears, and the third its mouth. These were gifts from Katori Shrine to the town, representing the Buddhist teaching of “See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil.” The shrine’s priest had said that the people living in this mountain village were truly fortunate because they did not see, hear, or speak of the world’s filth, and thus their hearts remained peaceful.

Chisei stopped in front of the Jizo statues. Rain pattered down on the large leaves covering the statues’ heads. It was the town’s tradition—when it rained, the children of the shrine would cover the Jizo statues with large leaves to shield them from the rain.

After all these years, everything remained the same. Though this was an illusion created by Dream Tapir, he had still returned here. This was where their conflict had begun, and it was where it should end. Somewhere in the village, Ruri was waiting, ready to kill him. In this dream, Chisei had lost all his advantages. Here, he and Ruri were just seventeen-year-old boys again, and it would come down to whose will was stronger.

He knelt before the Jizo statues, pressed his hands together in silent prayer, then picked up his long sword and walked toward the dimly lit town.

Paper lanterns hung by the roadside. Yes, that night, the town had been holding a Miko festival. Girls from outside the mountains had come to Katori Shrine to learn the rites of the Miko. They should have been walking around the town, holding such lanterns, praying for the town’s well-being, but now, the lanterns remained, and the people were gone. Aside from this, there was no sound of life—no voices, no barking dogs, not even the cawing of crows. Almost ten years had passed, and this village, long since abandoned, remained perfectly preserved in Ruri’s nightmare. But there was no trace of life. It was eternally night, with the lanterns always burning, and the bloodstained festival eternally taking place.

Chisei passed through the tall torii gate and walked toward the dark buildings beyond.

He didn’t head to Katori Shrine, nor did he want to return home. Instead, he went straight to the school—the site of the execution. Many years ago, he had killed his brother there. Now, returning in a dream, he was making the same choice again.

He didn’t notice, far behind him, a slender figure standing beneath a lantern, staring intently at his back. In the figure’s eyes, golden mandala patterns swirled. As Chisei advanced, the shadow followed, as if it were a distant, far-off shadow he had left behind.

The shadow’s expression twisted with viciousness and resentment. What had once been a gentle, innocent face now looked like a broken, defective doll.

The school still looked the same: the classroom buildings, the basketball court, the auditorium, and the sandy field where Chisei used to practice swordsmanship. There were tire tracks on the ground, as if the students had just finished their classes and gone home for the day. The night rain had turned the carefully maintained grass into a muddy mess.

Without seeing it with his own eyes, Chisei couldn’t have believed that his brother remembered everything so vividly. That was the only way Ruri could recreate the village in such perfect detail within his mind. Perhaps Chisei’s own memories were also playing a role. As Ruri projected his nightmare onto Chisei, Chisei’s subconscious was likely filling in the gaps, which was why it all felt so familiar. Over the years, he had often dreamt of this same rainy night in Katori Village.

He passed by the schoolyard. The old well was still in its original spot, covered with a heavy iron lid. This was where he had buried his brother. He had told no one except Tachibana because he couldn’t bear to admit that his brother had become a demon.

He bypassed the gymnasium and followed a bamboo-lined path to the back. The gym had once been the most modern building in the village, with its curved roof and shiny glass walls. But what Chisei remembered most was its deep basement. Although the basement was filled with mold and cluttered with discarded equipment, it had become their secret hideout. There, the two of them were free. They could play however they wanted, and when they got tired, they would pull out the cleanest mat from the pile of gym mats and lie down, talking about the future. Back then, Chisei dreamt of power, status, and a fashionable life. As for Ruri, he didn’t care; he would follow his brother anywhere, knowing that wherever his brother wanted to go must be a good place.

The rusty door, just like back then, was barely locked, merely hanging on its hinges. Pushing it open, Chisei descended the steps, spiraling deeper and deeper. At first, the walls were still painted with whitewash, but eventually, only the bare cement walls remained.

Chisei suddenly understood why the underground chambers beneath the Elysium club were so eerie and intimidating. That was where gamblers and the casino conducted their deals. Every small room down there buried desires and filthy secrets. The cement staircases of the Elysium club’s basement were just like the ones in this gymnasium.

After all these years, Chime hadn’t truly grown up. His memories, his resentment, his loneliness—all remained trapped in the past.

Series Navigation

<< Dragon Raja 3; Chapter 473: The Jester (1)Dragon Raja 3; Chapter 475: The Jester (3) >>