Dragon Raja: Lu Mingfei finds a Freylian

"Kamaitachi" had already locked onto its location, and in Caesar's mind, Deadpool's heartbeat was as clear as a drumbeat.

Caesar fell backward, his back hitting the floor with a dull thud. Winchester's gun was pointed skyward—

"boom!"

The shotgun was incredibly powerful, spraying bullets like raindrops that struck Deadpool in the chest. However, its penetration was insufficient; the bullets became lodged in the scales, scattering sparks. The wounded Deadpool was thrown off balance by the impact, his body tumbling halfway through the air before landing and rolling as he tried to retaliate, his claws scraping the floor with a piercing 'sizzle'.

But it didn't get a chance.

Chu Zihang's cross-shaped spear pierced its abdomen, the tip entering from its back and exiting through its chest with a muffled 'thud'. Black blood flowed down the spear shaft, dripping onto the floor with a 'drip-drip' sound. Deadpool's body convulsed on the spear shaft, its hands flailing futilely, its claws clawing wildly in the air.

Two studs pressed against its forehead—

"Da da da da da!"

The muzzle spat fire, and spent cartridges clattered to the ground. A bullet pierced its skull, splattering black blood and brain matter onto the wall. The gunshot echoed through the room until both magazines were empty, the deafening roar of the gunshot ringing in our ears.

"Tsk tsk tsk, no wonder everyone says you're a killer." Caesar tossed aside his empty gun, pulled two Sten guns from the bag on Chu Zihang's back, and cocked them with a 'click'. "Cut the weeds out completely, I really like that. Clean and efficient, leaving no future troubles."

“I have no interest in slaughter.” Chu Zihang pulled out the Cross-Shaped Spear with his right hand, black blood splattering around his feet and leaving a few dark spots on his shoes. “But I know that showing mercy to the Dead Servants will only lead to our annihilation. They won’t be grateful to you, they’ll just tear you apart.”

Chu Zihang pulled Winchester out of the bag behind Caesar with his left hand.

When they used guns, they would take them from their teammates' bags, making it faster to grab them. Ming Dynasty longsword soldiers would draw their swords from each other's waists in battle, their speed being extremely fast and unrestricted by sword length. They applied the tactics of that era to the modern battlefield, only replacing swords with guns and armor with combat uniforms.

Caesar used Sten as his offensive commander. His task was to suppress Deadpool, create an opening, and generate chaos. Sten seemed to come alive in Caesar's hands, his gun constantly spitting fire.

Chu Zihang, armed with a cross-shaped pistol and a shotgun, was responsible for defense. While the shotgun wasn't necessarily lethal to Deadpool, the powerful barrage could repel them, buying precious reaction time. The recoil from each shot made his shoulders numb, but he remained completely still.

The two stood back to back, forming a mobile firing point. Back to back, they could feel each other's body temperature and heartbeat.

Caesar finally saw the scene in the mural hall clearly.

The hall had become a snake breeding ground. The Dead Servants were tangled together, writhing in the blood like a pot of boiling broth. They were fighting over the corpses of the dead—the bodies of executive bureau officials, employees who hadn't had time to evacuate, people who were alive just half an hour ago. Now only limbs remained.

Claws tear through muscle,

Teeth crush bones,

The tongue licks the internal organs.

This is a scene from hell. Just one look at it makes you want to vomit up everything you've ever eaten in your life.

"Hallelujah!" Caesar roared, pulling the trigger. Sten began to yell, a long tongue of fire spitting from the muzzle. "I hate snakes! I hate the way they crawl around! I hate their scales!"

The bullets swept across a huge fan shape, striking Deadpool's scales and scattering sparks like festive fireworks. Only a few bullets managed to penetrate the gaps in the scales, each one spurting out a jet of black blood that arced through the air.

Whether injured or not, the Deadpools all opened their mouths and screamed. The screams were like the cries of babies, sharp, piercing, and continuous. Dozens, even hundreds, of huge mouths screamed simultaneously, merging into a sound wave that surged through the mural hall, rushing towards the two men and making their eardrums ache.

“Same,” Chu Zihang said coldly, as he shot down another Deadpool who tried to approach.

"Hey, the squeaky wheel gets the grease!" Caesar pulled out the empty magazine and tossed it aside with a 'clink' as it landed on the ground. Chu Zihang pulled a new magazine from his pocket and inserted it into the handle of his gun.

With a "click," the magazine went into place.

They've run out of Gatling guns, so they have to push the submachine guns to their limits. Not a single second can be wasted.

Caesar advanced, firing as he went, toward the screen wall in the center of the hall. His feet pounded on pools of blood, making a soft, pattering sound.

A dead servant approached Caesar from the side, its serpentine body gliding silently through the blood.

Caesar's barrage of attacks was focused on the front of him, and he didn't even turn his gaze, as if unaware of the approaching danger.

Chu Zihang held the cross-shaped spear horizontally, and in a flash, his figure moved like lightning.

The spear tip pierced straight into the servant's chest.

Although he learned swordsmanship in a kendo class at the Children's Palace, he had also studied Japanese martial arts on his own, reading countless ancient books and watching videos—the Hozoin-ryu, Saburi-ryu, and Yamato-ryu styles, every move and stance of which he knew by heart. This thrust of his spear was sincere and focused, his stance stable, the spear's momentum fierce, reminiscent of the Hozoin-ryu spear style. It was a spear technique used by Sengoku period warrior monks to defeat cavalry, which had once routed Takeda's cavalry at Kawanakajima.

Deadpool clasped his hands together to block.

The cross-shaped spear pierced through its metacarpal bone, entering from the palm and exiting through the back of the hand with a muffled 'thud'. Black blood flowed down the shaft of the spear.

But instead of feeling pain, it clasped its hands together, gripping the gun barrel, its knuckles making a 'crackling' sound. Its strength was astonishing. Chu Zihang felt the gun barrel tremble; Deadpool tried to take the gun, and the barrel was pulled slightly bent.

He lunged forward, forcing Deadpool to retreat with his gun. Deadpool's tail thrashed wildly across the ground, splattering blood everywhere, but he couldn't maintain his balance.

At this moment, Caesar drew the Colt "Western Watch" from his waist.

It was a gift gun specially made by the Ganryu Research Institute, with an ivory handle carved with a relief of galloping bison, each bison lifelike, and the gun body gilded, gleaming in the firelight. But at this moment, it was not a gift; it was a weapon, a last resort.

"Boom!" The sound of Western Watch firing was like a thunderclap, shaking the entire hall. The muzzle flash was half a meter long.

A large-caliber bullet pierced Deadpool's abdomen and exploded with a muffled 'bang'. The splashed mercury was heated into vapor by the gunpowder, releasing a white, metallic-looking smoke that spread through the air like a thin mist.

The Deadpools scattered in all directions, letting out terrified screams.

The scales that were splashed with mercury quickly turned pale and then fell off, rustling to the ground. Bluish-white mercury scars appeared on their skin, like burn marks, with the edges still smoking.

"Oh, oh, oh!" Caesar exclaimed with delight, whistling, "The Japanese weapons are even more effective than the Academy's mercury core bombs! The effect, tsk tsk, is like being doused with sulfuric acid!"

This Colt uses mercury-explosive bullets developed by the Ganryu Research Institute. Only this kind of large-caliber old-fashioned revolver can fire such dangerous explosive bullets, which are filled with liquid mercury. Upon impact, they explode, and the mercury atomizes, which is lethal to dragons.

Chu Zihang nailed Deadpool to a pillar, the gun barrel piercing the stone pillar with a 'click' sound.

Deadpool had a fist-sized hole punched in his abdomen by Caesar, and black blood was gushing out like a running faucet. Mercury was rapidly corroding his body, spreading outwards from the wound, and his skin and muscles were visibly decaying, revealing the pale bones beneath.

The sturdy cross-shaped spear pierced its chest, pinning it to the pillar.

But it still hissed and lunged at Chu Zihang, its hands flailing wildly in the air, its sharp claws hissing as they sliced ​​through the air. It pierced the entire gun barrel through his chest, the barrel slick with thick, black blood. It stretched out its hands, trying to grab Chu Zihang's neck, its fingertips almost touching his skin.

Chu Zihang pulled on his shoulder strap. A bundle of long knives fell to his feet with a 'clang'.

He grabbed a weapon and thrust it straight at the chest.

The blade severed Deadpool's spine; the nervous system is Deadpool's weakness. With his spine destroyed, he finally slumped helplessly, like a bag of rotten flesh with its bones removed, slowly sliding down the gun barrel, his hands futilely grasping at the air.

Chu Zihang inserted three long swords into his waistband, three on each side, forming a fan shape, with the hilts against his sides. Then he drew his shotgun, rolled over, and pressed himself against Caesar's back. The instant their backs touched, he could feel that Caesar's combat uniform was soaked with sweat.

The two stood back to back again.

Chapter 695 Royal Power

Caesar emptied the six Mercury Burst missiles in Westwatch. The smoke from refined mercury filled the hall, the hot wind accelerating its spread. Deadpool, instinctively afraid of the smoke, hesitated to approach, instead circling them and emitting low growls like a pack of hungry wolves.

Caesar seized the opportunity to suppress the fire with his submachine gun, clearing a bloody path. Bullets exploded among the Deadpools, sending them scattering in all directions.

They approached the center of the hall step by step.

Hundreds of dead servants surrounded them. The cries of infants echoed from all directions, rising and falling like a never-ending funeral.

Countless pale faces emerged in the firelight. Some belonged to the elderly, with deep wrinkles, missing teeth, and mouths agape like black holes; some belonged to the young, with clear features and smooth skin, who must have been handsome young men in life; some faces were distorted and deformed, unrecognizable, like melted wax figures; some faces still reminded one of passersby one might encounter on the street—a shy boy, blushing; a charming mature woman, her eyes sparkling; a tired middle-aged office worker, his tie still around his neck.

But when their skulls opened, revealing thorny, sharp teeth, they transformed into monstrous demons. The teeth were arranged in layers, like the mouth of a shark, each gleaming with a cold light.

“We’re like two rats who’ve stumbled into a snake farm,” Caesar said, tossing aside his holster and drawing his Winchester, the barrel still warm from the previous shot. “And we’re holding slingshots. Rats with slingshots stumbling into a snake pit. Isn’t that a ridiculous sight?”

Shotguns and submachine guns only managed to puncture Deadpool's skin and draw blood. The shotgun was more effective. Although the recoil was immense, each shot sending numbness down his shoulder and producing a loud 'bang,' it at least knocked Deadpool back a step, buying him a fraction of a second to react. A fraction of a second could be enough to give you a second chance to survive.

Caesar repeated the actions of loading the gun, firing, loading the gun, firing.

Loading.

shot

The spent cartridge case landed.

The spent cartridges clattered to the ground, bounced on the stone slab, rolled into the pool of blood, and were submerged in the blood.

There's no need to aim. You can hit the target with a single shot. There are so many enemies that you don't need to aim; you could hit them with your eyes closed.

In the center of the hall, the strongest Death Servants are devouring the dead.

They were more than twice the size of the other Deadpools. Their bloated bellies dragged on the ground like pregnant snakes, their skin stretched to a translucent state, revealing the outlines of undigested limbs inside. They opened their enormous mouths, spewing out mucus to lubricate the corpses, the mucus dripping onto the ground, before slowly swallowing them like snakes. Starting from the feet, they swallowed them bit by bit, whole, their throats bulging into huge bulges.

Throughout the entire attack, they did not join in on the two. They were focused solely on the feast before them, their eyes fixed only on the food, nothing else.

It seems that the Deadpool group, like an animal herd, has a hierarchy. The strongest Deadpool, like the alpha wolf, monopolizes the freshest prey. The other Deadpools dare not share with it. Otherwise, it will devour its own kind, opening its massive maw and swallowing half its body in one bite.

The Deadpool closest to Caesar was a middle-aged bald man. Or rather, he was a middle-aged bald man in life. His head was bald except for a sparse ring of hair above his ears, which gleamed oily in the firelight. He had a round face and an even bigger belly, suggesting he was a very unpopular fat man in life, and probably loved to brag at drinking parties.

But no one could have imagined that after it transformed into a dragon, it would possess such a magnificent body.

Its bloated belly writhed along the ground like a giant caterpillar. Its head and neck, at least twice their normal size, also writhed, the muscles beneath its skin rising and falling slowly like a snake after swallowing its prey. The skin was stretched to translucent, revealing the blood vessels and muscles growing wildly beneath, the vessels twisting like earthworms.

It turned its head, giving the two what appeared to be a smile. Its mouth slowly parted, revealing a dense array of sharp teeth, each gleaming coldly. This wasn't the first time Deadpool had shown an expression resembling a smile. It seemed to be Deadpool's way of expressing joy when he saw food, like seeing a steaming plate of braised pork.

The Deadpools drove them to the center so that the strongest Deadpools could eat first. They formed a circle, like spectators watching a gladiatorial combat.

Winchester spewed out a dense barrage of sparks, a triple 'boom boom boom'.

The middle-aged, balding Deadpool was hit squarely in the face. His upper body snapped back as if broken, while his bloated belly remained seated on the ground, trembling like a mountain of flesh.

"I don't like baldness and obesity either!" Caesar roared, adding fuel to the fire, "I hate the Mediterranean head! I hate beer bellies!"

Most people would faint from fear at Deadpool's "slight smile." But they'd encountered thugs from Kassel College. There are no normal people there, only monsters and near-monsters.

Chu Zihang expressionlessly drew his Sten knife to finish the job. A hail of bullets pierced the Deadpool's snake belly, leaving gaping holes and gushing black blood that splashed onto the ground with a 'plop plop' sound.

Deadpool slowly sat up, like someone waking up, bending over to get up, his movements as slow as a movie in slow motion.

Its bloated abdomen writhed segment by segment, and its body grew taller segment by segment. When it lay on its belly, it was only as tall as a person, but now it had transformed into a three-meter-tall giant—not counting its tail coiled on the ground, which was a full two meters long, swaying slowly on the ground and sweeping up a pool of blood.

The tiny human body looked so disproportionate on the massive snake. Like a pregnant praying mantis, with a small head and a large belly, it gave one goosebumps.

"I wonder how much protein this guy has consumed since becoming Deadpool," Caesar muttered, loading new mercury burst bullets into the Western Watch magazine. The bullets were inserted one by one into the magazine with six clicks.

Chu Zihang held two swords in his hands, slowly extending his arms, the blades drawing two cold streaks of light in the air.

There was no way forward; this was their final battlefield.

All the Dead Servants rose to their feet along with their leader. Powerful tails supported their massive upper bodies, ranging in height from two to three meters. Surrounding the two, these trembling snake bodies resembled a dense, fleshy forest, blotting out the sky.

Only the most eccentric artist could possibly imagine such a scene. Even Dante's *Divine Comedy* doesn't depict it.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Caesar said, abruptly closing the wheel of the Western Watch, with a crisp, melodious metallic clang, "shouldn't we pray before eating? Thank the Lord for the food we have, even though we are food."

Ancient testimonies descended from heaven.

A cold light also descended from the sky.

Hokushin Itto-ryu: Frostfall!

The dark figure descended along the back of the Deadpool leader, accompanied by a gleaming blue blade.

Dojigiri Yasutsuna sliced ​​into the back of the neck along the spine. As the knife fell, vertebrae cracked one by one, making a crisp 'crack' sound, like breaking icicles in winter. The Deadpool collapsed segment by segment like a snake with its spine removed, his body going limp.