Dragon Raja: Lu Mingfei finds a Freylian

These words were exceptionally clear and exceptionally cold in the burning room.

Sakurai Kogure closed her eyes.

Two lines of clear tears silently slid down her pale cheeks, gathered at her chin, and dripped onto the ornate lapel of her twelve-layered robe, spreading into two dark stains. In the firelight, the tear stains glistened, like two sorrowful silver rivers.

She didn't sob, but silently shed tears, her shoulders trembling slightly, like the last leaf that refused to wither in the cold wind.

Yuan Zhisheng neither urged him nor looked away. He simply stood there, knife in hand, like a silent gravedigger, witnessing the end of a relationship.

Chapter 579 Minamoto Says Farewell to Sakurai Kogure

After a long while, Sakurai Kogure opened her eyes, roughly wiping her face with her sleeve, completely ruining her previous elegant demeanor. But her eyes were clearer than before, as if the tears had washed away the last bit of confusion and pretense.

“I know,” she said hoarsely, her voice choked with sobs but unusually firm. “Actually, I’ve always known. From the night he left, from the moment his eyes started to look at me with a strange, empty look, I knew.”

She sniffed, trying to calm her voice: "But waiting, waiting is the only thing I can do. This paradise, these fine clothes, this wealth, this pretense... it's all fake, all empty shells. Only the thought of waiting for him to come back is real, the only thing that makes me feel alive."

She gave a self-deprecating laugh, a bitter laugh: "It's silly, isn't it? Knowing it's futile, yet still clinging on. Like a drowning person grabbing at a straw."

Yuan Zhisheng did not comment on whether he was "stupid" or "not stupid".

He simply asked, "Where are the King and the Dragon King?"

This is his task, his duty, and an issue he cannot avoid.

Sakurai Kogure had already anticipated this question. She raised her tear-filled face, looked at Genjiro, and suddenly revealed a smile tinged with pity.

"Director Genjiro, do you really think I would tell you?" she asked softly. "Would I exchange this little bit of secret that I've held onto until the very end for a possible forgiveness? Or for a lifetime of darkness and despair in the Kobe Mountain dungeon?"

Her gaze swept over the spider-cutting in Genji's hand.

"Or are you planning to use that knife to force me to answer?"

Yuan Zhisheng met her gaze.

Her eyes were complex, filled with weariness, sadness, and resolve, but devoid of fear. You can't get anything out of someone who isn't afraid of death or eternal imprisonment.

"This is the procedure," Genji simply repeated, his voice devoid of emotion. "I ask, you refuse. And then..."

"Then you can arrest me, or kill me," Sakurai Kogure finished for him, her tone even carrying a hint of curiosity. "So, which do you choose, Chief Genjiro? Or perhaps, Young Master?"

She tilted her head slightly, like a student asking a question in class, waiting for the teacher's answer.

Genji's fingers tightened on the hilt of the Spider Cutter. The cold metallic touch, transmitted through his gloves, reminded him of the weight of the knife and the responsibility and killing it represented.

Arrest her? Send her back to Tokyo and throw her into that ancient, dark dungeon in the heart of Kobe, where she's imprisoned with demons who have completely transformed into dragons and lost their minds, to spend the rest of her life in eternal darkness and madness?

Or should we give her a relatively clean ending here?

The humming sound emanating from the fireproof partition became sharp and unstable. The light from the barrier flickered, and fine cracks began to appear on the outer edge. Heat waves from the flames seeped in through the gaps, causing the room temperature to rise further.

A clear "crack" sound came from the floor beneath my feet.

time is limited.

Sakurai Kogure sensed it too. She looked down at the floor that was starting to crack, then looked up at Genjiro, her expression suddenly becoming incredibly calm, even with a hint of relief.

“Actually, you don’t need to be in a difficult position,” she said softly, her tone as gentle as if she were comforting a friend. “I have already made the choice for you.”

She slowly stood up.

The intricate hem of her twelve-layered robe unfolded layer by layer with her movements, like a double-petaled flower blooming in an instant. She walked to the window, the edge of that relatively safe area, and looked down at the courtyard below, which had been completely engulfed by the sea of ​​fire.

“This Palace of Ecstasy was built brick by brick over three years. It is a monument to my ambition, a museum of my sins, and my prison.”

Sakurai Kogure reached out and gently touched the scorching glass window with her fingertips. The glass warped from the heat, reflecting her distorted image.

“Now, it’s going to be ruined. Like a grand play that’s finally coming to an end.” She turned around, her back against the scorching glass window, facing Yuan Zhisheng. The firelight outlined her bright silhouette behind her, casting shadows on her face, except for her deep purple eyes, which remained strikingly bright.

"Director Yuan Zhisheng, before everything is over, may I ask you for a favor?"

Her tone was very serious, and she used honorifics, no longer the distant politeness or probing that came before.

Genjiro looked at her silhouette in the firelight and nodded silently.

Sakurai Kogure took out a small object carefully wrapped in purple silk from her bosom. She didn't open it, but simply held it in both hands and walked to Genjiro. Through the fireproof partition that was beginning to vibrate violently and could collapse at any moment, she placed the cloth package on the windowsill that had not yet been touched by the flames.

The cloth bag was small and square, and you could tell that it contained some kind of hard object.

“If, I mean if,” Sakurai Kogure’s voice was soft, her gaze fixed on the cloth bag, “if in the future, somewhere, you meet Lady Chijo, and meet that person who may be a complete stranger, or who may still retain a trace of the past.”

She took a deep breath, as if using all her strength, before saying, "Please give this to him. There's no need to say anything more. Just give it to him."

She raised her head and looked directly into Genjiro's eyes one last time. The firelight danced in her pupils, reflecting an almost pious plea.

"May I?"

Yuan Zhisheng's gaze fell on the small purple cloth bag.

He could roughly guess what was inside. The other half of that rough wooden hairpin? A keepsake? Or just a trivial little thing that held special significance for her and Genjiro.

A hope that is destined never to be delivered.

A request that is known to be futile, yet still made.

Genjiro raised his head and looked at Sakurai Kogure.

She stood before the firelight, the hem of her twelve-layered kimono fluttering slightly in the hot wind. The tear tracks on her bare face had dried, leaving only calm and waiting. Waiting for his answer, and waiting for the final outcome.

The fireproof partition let out its final lament, the light dimmed rapidly, and cracks spread out like a spider web.

The floor beneath my feet trembled violently again, and a cracking sound came from it. This time, the entire floorboard began to tilt.

Genji met Sakurai Kogure's gaze and said slowly and clearly, "Okay."

It was just one word, yet it carried immense weight.

Something lit up in Sakurai Kogure's eyes, then quickly dimmed, turning into a deep, calm state mixed with gratitude and relief.

She bowed slightly and paid her respects to Yuan Zhisheng.

"Thank you," she said.

Then, in the instant the fireproof partition shattered completely and flames surged into the room like a tidal wave, amidst the deafening roar of the floor collapsing beneath their feet.

Genji saw that Sakurai Kogure took one last look at the purple cloth bag on the windowsill before her figure was swallowed up by the raging flames and collapsing darkness.

Chapter 580 Frilian VS Genji (Part 1)

The fireproof partition shattered like a fragile layer of ice, and scorching flames, carrying scalding air, surged into this last isolated island like a raging torrent. Broken planks, burning fabric fragments, and molten metal components—everything lost its form in this destructive torrent, turning into swirling fireballs.

With a dying groan, the floor collapsed completely, plummeting downwards with immense weight. Sakurai Kogure felt the sudden emptiness beneath her feet, a weightlessness that gripped her heart like an icy hand. A surge of scorching air rushed upwards, lifting the heavy hem of her twelve-layered kimono, but also bringing a suffocating despair.

She closed her eyes, didn't scream, but simply whispered the name in her heart: "Lady Nagisa".

ended.

however--

The expected excruciating pain of slamming into the rubble, shattering bones, and flames licking at the skin did not come.

All that remained was a cold, enveloping feeling.

It was like suddenly falling into the deep sea, instantly shutting out the surrounding noise and heat. Sakurai Kogure could feel herself falling, but at an unusually slow speed, as if time itself had been stretched out.

She opened her eyes in surprise.

What lay before me was neither a hellish inferno nor the darkness of ruins. Instead, it was a translucent, icy blue curtain of light.

The light curtain was oval-shaped, like a giant bubble, completely enveloping her. Outside the bubble, the flames continued to rage wildly, burning fragments moving slowly like in slow motion, the sounds becoming distant and indistinct. Inside the bubble, the air was cool, carrying a scent she had never smelled before, like a forest after rain.

She floated in the center of the bubble, her twelve-layered blouse swaying gently as if in water.

what happened?

Was it a hallucination? A fleeting image before death?

Just then, a hand wearing a black tactical glove reached into the bubble from the side and firmly grabbed her arm.

The hand possessed immense strength, yet remained remarkably steady, without the slightest tremor. Immediately afterward, a figure pierced through the icy blue light barrier and entered this strange space.

The newcomer wore a dark gray, tight-fitting combat suit that accentuated her slender yet powerful physique. Her long, silver-white hair was tied back in a neat ponytail, the ends shimmering faintly in the light. A black mask covered half of her face, revealing only her eyes.

It was emerald green, calm as an ancient well, yet it seemed to reflect countless stars.

Sakurai Kogure felt a strange sense of familiarity.

"Hold on tight." The voice came through the mask, somewhat muffled, but with an undeniable calmness. It was in Japanese, but the accent was peculiar.

Before the words were even finished, the bubble enveloping them jolted violently, abruptly halting its descent. It then began to move rapidly to the side and upward—to a corner of the building that hadn't yet completely collapsed. The bubble deftly avoided several falling, burning logs, grazed the edge of a wall about to topple, and slid like a fish into the relatively stable corner of the structure.

"boom!"

The bubbles gently bumped against the unburnt wall, bursting and dissipating. The cool air was instantly replaced by scorching heat, but at least they were temporarily out of the most deadly collapse zone.

Sakurai Kogure's legs buckled, and she almost knelt down, but the person who came in helped her up steadily.

"You..." she gasped, looking up at her savior, her mind a complete blank. "Who are you? Why..."

“This is not the time for explanations.” The silver-haired woman—Frilian—interrupted her, her sharp gaze sweeping across the surroundings. Her magical perception had been extended to its limit, catching every sound of structural cracking, every glimmer of flame spreading. “This building won’t last much longer; we must leave immediately.”

Her gaze fell on the elaborate twelve-layered kimono worn by Sakurai Kogure, and her brows furrowed almost imperceptibly: "This outfit is too cumbersome and will hinder your movement."

Before she finished speaking, she swiftly slashed through the air with her left hand, fingers pointing like a knife, the tips glowing with a faint, icy blue light.

"Shuashuashua——"

Several invisible wind blades precisely sliced ​​through the joints of the outermost layers of the heavy hem of the twelve-layered kimono, as well as the overly wide cuffs. The expensive silk fell away as if it had been cut by a sharp blade, leaving only the innermost two relatively light shirts and long hakama.

Sakurai Kogure didn't even feel the touch of her clothes being cut; she only felt a sudden lightness on her body.

"go!"

Without another word, Frillie grabbed Sakurai Kogure's wrist and turned to rush towards the pre-planned escape route—a hidden staircase leading to a maintenance passage on the side of the building.

"Wait!" Sakurai Kogure hesitated for a moment, then turned back to look in the direction of the windowsill. "That cloth bag..."

“I’ve already taken it.” Frilian didn’t even turn her head. With her other hand, she took the purple silk-wrapped object from the side pocket of her tactical pouch and stuffed it into Sakurai Kogure’s hand. “Now, focus on escaping!”

The maintenance access road was narrow and steep, filled with smoke and constantly falling debris. But at least the fire had not yet spread completely, and the structure was relatively stable.

Frillie pulled Sakurai Kogure down the slope quickly, their movements so agile it didn't seem like they were fleeing for their lives, but rather like they were carrying out a precise tactical maneuver. She always managed to avoid collapsing steps half a step ahead, or use a barely perceptible ice-blue barrier to deflect falling burning debris.

Sakurai Kogure barely managed to keep up, her heart pounding and her lungs burning, but the instinct for survival and the bewilderment of being rescued drove her to move. She gripped the purple cloth bag tightly in her hand, the sharp edges digging into her palm, bringing a real pain.