Dragon Raja 4; Chapter 28: Journey to the End of the World (28)

Dragon Raja 4

The freshly waxed classic Aston Martin sped down the highway, and in the end, Hankel had no choice but to bring out his treasured DB5. His team had already driven off with all the vehicles in the underground garage before the drones arrived, leaving him only a tractor and this precious car, which he had locked away and forbidden anyone to touch.  Anjou took on the role of driver without hesitation—he was a famous speedster. Temporarily, he transferred his control of EVA to Hankel, who not only coordinated with EVA but also urgently communicated with hybrid families around the world. As a secular leader, Hankel was far more credible in the eyes of these families compared to Anjou, the fanatical dragon slayer.

Over the past half hour, the situation had worsened further. Drone attacks continued, and Sakurai Nanami, the current head of the Yamata no Orochi, was assassinated. Along with Sir Snoughton in London and a feudal lord hiding deep in the mountains of India, the hybrid world had already lost three top-tier leaders. The feudal lord was killed by his adopted son just as he was about to board a private plane to Chicago to meet with Anjou and Henkel. The son pierced his heart with a sword, and mercury was pumped into his body through a tube connected to a valve on the blade, giving him no chance of revival.

It seemed a certain organization had quietly developed around them for years, with advanced technology capable of producing untraceable assassination drones and infiltrating the teams around family leaders. The most incredible part was that even EVA, the system that claimed to monitor the entire world at all times, had failed to detect their actions.

The leaders of the hybrid world were in chaos, each frantically guessing who the mastermind might be, then turning their suspicions toward their rivals, triggering retaliations. Trust between people was fragile, and when attacked, the first instinct was always to strike back at the enemy etched in one’s mind. Some had long understood these weaknesses of human nature and sought to create chaos so overwhelming that not even Anjou and Henkel’s influence could quell it quickly.

“The Gattuso family is no exception. There is no sovereign in the hybrid world; we are merely a larger group of feudal lords,” said Frost, whose face was displayed on the screen.

Frost, who held actual power over the Gattuso family, was often mockingly referred to as the “Regent of Europe.” But now, even the regent had a deeply furrowed brow.

“Think of something! I don’t believe you haven’t placed spies in other families,”  Anjou glanced at the PAD in Henkel’s hand.

“Some of our spies have lost contact, and some—well, let’s just say they’ve betrayed us. That force has infiltrated the Gattuso family too. Right now, I can’t even trust the people around me.”

On the horizon at the end of the road, a massive complex slowly rose into view. Oak Creek was just ahead, and beyond it was Chicago, where Henkel’s office and his protégés were eagerly awaiting his return.

“Keep driving! We’re going to the opera house! My people are waiting for me at the office, and they’ve even prepared my favorite coffee and dark chocolate!” Hankel said, with a proud look on his face.

This was the place he had spent his life building, and now the king was about to return to his city. Though he was old, he had never truly left.

But suddenly, the shrill sound of an air raid siren came from Chicago. Smoke and bright flames erupted from the city, rising steeply into the sky. Henkel’s face turned ashen—he knew exactly what that was. It was Chicago’s air defense system, codenamed “Michael.” This outwardly bustling commercial city, where even the police were more polite than elsewhere, had hundreds of air defense weapons hidden around the city and along the Chicago River. As the camouflage covers were removed, they were readied. The attackers hadn’t arrived yet, but Chicago’s system had already determined they would come and set up an interception net in advance. A swarm of missiles roamed the sky at high speed, covering low, medium, and high altitudes. The Phalanx systems whirled, aiming their guns.

“Oh no!” Henkel rasped.

A few seconds later, fiery meteors descended from the sky, trailing thick smoke. The dense air defense system barely had time to react. Though it struck the meteors, they shattered into smaller fragments, raining fiery debris down on Chicago. The shockwaves of the fiery storm slammed into the city, and seconds later, they reached Oak Creek.  Anjou had already pulled over to the side of the road, preparing for an emergency escape, but Hankel stumbled out of the car, rushing toward Chicago.  Anjou dashed out to grab him, but both were swept up in the hurricane-like shockwave.

Almost simultaneously, similar air raid sirens echoed across the campus of Cassell College.

“The “Divine Punishment” has breached the stratosphere. Impact countdown: 60 seconds!” EVA’s voice reverberated through every corner of the campus.

She was sharper than Chicago’s defense system, which had about a 30-second warning time. EVA had detected the incoming catastrophic strike from space a full minute ahead. It was the Gattuso family’s satellite, “Divine Punishment No. 11,” a massive satellite with a rotating missile bay that stored several tungsten alloy rods, each weighing several tons. These rods had no propulsion systems or warheads; once released, they relied solely on the immense kinetic energy built up through gravity to transform into artificial meteors capable of annihilating their target. The Gattuso family had promised that if the college ever needed it, this system would be at their service. But now, it was aimed directly at the college.

Students scrambled to the underground spaces from the library’s corridors as professors calmly directed the evacuation. The Yanling restricting barrier had been lifted, restoring everyone’s ability to use their dragonspeak powers. Various domains merged, and a golden glow shimmered in everyone’s eyes. The Draconic Words included several defensive ones, but each had its own strength limit. The “Divine Punishment” had the destructive power equivalent to a small nuclear explosion—no one could survive at ground zero. All hope was pinned on one individual. As soon as the alarm was sounded, that student had been escorted to the deepest part of the ice cellar.

“Your Yanling is ‘Pure Land of Liberation,’ right?” The vice principal held a PAD in one hand and a bottle of liquor in the other. “And you have the innate ability to evolve it into the ‘Crystal Fortress of Brahma.’”

“I swear, even if I get smashed to pieces, I’ll defend the college! But honestly, I can’t even block a football…” The first-year student, wrapped in bandages, said in frustration.

This student had been classified as an A-Rank hybrid upon enrollment, and his Yanling, like that of the former Professor Mance Rundstedt, was the rare “Pure Land of Liberation”—a powerful defensive ability. He also had the innate potential to evolve it into the higher-tier “Crystal Fortress of Brahma.” When the field of the Crystal Fortress was deployed, the air currents around the domain would solidify and crystallize—a phenomenon that defied the laws of physics. Unfortunately, while his Yanling was highly advanced, its strength was lacking. In a recent school football game, he had his ribs broken by a powerful throw, and though he activated the Crystal Fortress, it was as fragile as a thin glass lampshade, offering little protection.

“No worries, no worries. Just follow my instructions, and afterward, I’ll even give you the award for model student!” The vice principal beamed as he led the student up to a small pyramid collected by  Anjou and guided him to sit at the top.

“Just release your Yanling. If you feel some consciousness guiding your power, don’t resist,” the vice principal said, handing him the bottle.

“Take a sip if you’re nervous.”

The student took a big swig of the liquor, formed a seal with his hands, and closed his eyes. As the radiance of his dragon word flowed out from him, he began to levitate.

In the deeper underground layers, a massive alchemical matrix slowly illuminated, and the gently flowing mercury began to boil. At the same time, the extinguished oil lamp in the clock tower of the chapel reignited, its flame rising higher and higher until it blazed like a torch. Students and teachers alike heard a dragon chant deep within their minds, unique to the “Pure Land of Liberation.” Unconsciously, they began to recite the chant in unison, their voices resonating and overlapping. The super matrix, an alchemical construct, was designed to amplify Yanling. Normally, the vice principal would use it to magnify his barrier across the entire campus, but now, he was amplifying the “Crystal Fortress of Brahma” and using the collective energy of the faculty and students as power sources.

A mystical, flame-like airstream surged up from the well, resembling the trunk of a massive tree. It was a pillar of elemental energy that branched out in the sky above the campus, with enormous reflective crystals as its leaves. Before the crystalline tree could fully form, the “Divine Punishment” arrived. Blinding fire scattered across the tree’s crown, and everyone momentarily lost sight, as though their souls had been punched. The ethereal tree wavered, and its falling crystals rained down like transparent shards, each one triggering small elemental storms upon hitting the campus. The classrooms and the library were swept away in the storm, and violent lightning streaked in all directions, igniting the red pine forest surrounding the campus.

The vice principal, watching everything unfold through a satellite feed from space, sighed and said, “Anjou, I’ve told you before—if the world is ever destroyed, it will be by humanity’s own hands.”

In Alheim, the shut-ins from the Gear Department felt as though the apocalypse had arrived too, yet the atmosphere was one of exuberance. They guzzled soda and cheered, “Rejoice! We are the Adams of the new era!”

On the highway outside Chicago, near Oak Creek,  Anjou leaned against the wreckage of the DB5, talking on the phone. “Frost, you destroyed Chicago, and now you want to destroy the college too?”

“We did want Chicago’s territory, but a ruined Chicago is useless to us,” Frost replied calmly. “The weapon’s control system was hacked. We’ve lost control of the “Divine Punishment”.”

“How many more rounds are left in it? Will there be another attack?”

“The one that hit Chicago was the “Divine Punishment” No. 1, and it’s out of ammo. The one attacking the college is No. 11, which still has two rounds left. The bad news is, a few months ago, we launched No. 111, which is now heading toward Rome,” Frost said in a low voice. “Even a fool can guess its target: the Gattuso family. If Hankel’s family and the college get bombed but the Gattuso family is spared, Mr. Pompeii will feel quite overlooked.”

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