Dragon Raja: Lu Mingfei finds a Freylian

"Chu Zihang!" Caesar roared, his voice echoing through the fire like that of a wounded beast.

A flurry of knife strikes echoed from the fire, and Chu Zihang was unable to escape. In this situation, the Sten submachine gun Caesar had prepared was completely useless; he couldn't see his target and didn't know where to fire. Randomly firing might injure Chu Zihang; bullets don't discriminate between friend and foe.

Cold sweat poured down his face like a dam bursting. It streamed down his forehead, stinging his eyes and blurring his vision with its salty taste. But Caesar paid no heed. The sweat evaporated quickly in the fire and wind, leaving streaks of salt on his face, his skin taut. His eyes twitched, his expression contorted, like a caged beast pacing back and forth, unable to find a way out.

Every second of delay increases the danger.

Fifteen pounds of C4 explosives were burning in the fire. The small yellow cubes had been in the flames for a long time; their surfaces were bubbling, the fuses long gone, reduced to ash—nothing remained. They could explode at any moment—not just possibly, but certainly. In minutes, at most minutes, this floor would be engulfed in flames. The three of them, along with Chu Zihang, would be blown to pieces, not even a bone fragment could be found.

"Ding," the elevator has arrived.

The door opened.

The elevator was empty, but piled with fifty boxes of files, probably documents from the Executive Bureau. Page after page, they recorded the history of the Snake Clan, the secrets of the hybrid race, and past events that should not be known to anyone.

The temperature inside the fire was far beyond what ordinary people could endure. If it weren't for the three of them—Caesar, Chu Zihang, and Yuan Zhisheng—and instead it were Sakura or Yasha, they would have already fainted from lack of oxygen and collapsed to the ground, engulfed by the flames. In this environment, they wouldn't have lasted more than thirty seconds.

Chu Zihang was in the heart of the fire. Every breath he took there was scorching hot from the flames.

Caesar gripped his gun tightly.

The sound of knives continued inside the fire.

Chapter 698 Snake Man

Chu Zihang landed and rolled, trying to keep his body low to breathe. Black blood gushed from the snake-man's eyes; Chu Zihang had destroyed both of its eyes with a backhand strike. At the critical moment, he remembered the move "Su Qin Carrying the Sword," and enduring the excruciating pain of his skull almost splitting open, he swung Su Qin Carrying the Sword behind him, severely injuring the snake-man's eyes in one fell swoop. His ribs throbbed with pain; the snake-man's blade had actually pierced through his breastplate, which he hadn't had time to remove, but the crimson blade had still burned his waist.

He struggled to his knees, gasping for breath; each breath felt like it would scald his lungs. He looked towards the elevator, but saw only flames and black smoke; nothing else. Good, Caesar must have already taken that good-for-nothing away. He was almost in the middle of the fire, surrounded by dozens of Dead Servants.

This was truly the last battle of his life.

He didn't know when the explosives would detonate, and the Deadpool gang would be wiped out with him. In truth, giving up now would have little effect on him anyway. But he still gripped his twin swords tightly, assuming the starting stance of a dual-wielding style. The moment the hilts touched his palms, that familiar, icy feeling traveled from his fingertips to his arms, and then to his heart—this was the feeling of being alive.

Looking back on his life, his main strength and weakness were both stubbornness—a stubbornness ingrained in his very bones. He stubbornly insisted on taking control of his own destiny, and it was this stubbornness that led him to Kassel College, changing his life; it was also this stubbornness that prevented him from truly understanding the girl named Xia Mi. He stubbornly rejected everyone, living alone in a corner of the crowd. Sometimes he thinks he's just as immature as Caesar in some ways, always feeling special and therefore refusing to bow to anything worldly.

Even at the very end of his life, he stubbornly gripped the knife handle.

The snake-man danced with a painful yet alluring gait, his red-hot twin blades slicing bright arcs as he drew ever closer. The other Dead Servants crouched low, their long tails twisting into a contorted S-shape behind them—a preparatory movement for a snake's attack: spine bent, muscles taut, taut when they spring towards their prey. The scene resembled a pack of wolves hunting a powerful stallion. The pack's advantage was overwhelming, but the stallion's iron hooves could still crush a wolf's head. So the strongest alpha wolf led the attack from directly in front of the stallion, while the others crouched low, waiting for an opening when the stallion engaged the alpha, then pouncing to plunge their claws into the horse's belly.

Chu Zihang's entire attention was focused on the snake-man's twin swords. His blindness hadn't significantly weakened the snake-man's fighting ability; relying on his keen sense of smell, he pinpointed Chu Zihang's location and wielded his longswords with all his might, creating a fiery whirlwind. When he was still human, he must have been a swordsmanship enthusiast, practicing countless routines; those offensive and defensive techniques were deeply etched into his memory, and he hadn't forgotten them even after his mutation.

Yagyu Shinkage-ryu - Five Directions Emerge.

Chu Zihang could vaguely discern the snake man's swordsmanship style. The Five Directions Stance wasn't a technique, but rather the most basic slashing training, including five slashing methods: upper, middle, lower, right armpit, and left armpit. The snake man repeated the Five Directions Stance round after round, and with his astonishingly long arms, the area within two meters around him was filled with fiery red sword shadows, appearing impenetrable at first glance.

Chu Zihang gripped the legendary demon-slaying sword "Spider Cutter" in his right hand, the blade concealed under his left armpit. He had only one chance to strike; the strike had to sever the snake-man's neck bone, completely crippling its fighting ability, otherwise he wouldn't have time to turn around and deal with the horde of deadly servants attacking from behind.

He took a deep breath, the scorching air making his throat ache.

Then, he stomped the ground and charged towards the snake man, leaping into the air to create distance between himself and the group of dead servants behind him. The snake man was nearly three meters tall when he stood up, and he had to leap up and swing his sword to decapitate him.

A piercing whistling sound came from behind my head!

Another blade is hurtling towards us! Could there be another Deadpool in the group who can wield a weapon?

Chu Zihang, already airborne, had no choice but to crash into the dense, fiery red blade light.

The Spider Slash only struck the Snake Man's chest. Distracted by the knife behind him, Chu Zihang's timing for his strike was slightly off.

But he actually landed safely in front of the snake man.

At the crucial moment, the snake-man's sword dance came to an abrupt halt. A sharp blade was embedded in its forehead!

A black hunting knife.

The knife flew out of his hand, grazed Chu Zihang's cheek at close range, and plunged into the snake man's skull!

Chu Zihang couldn't help but smile. It turned out that there was at least one other person in the world who was just as stubborn as him.

The dark figure burst through the wall of fire, firing a fan-shaped barrage of submachine guns with both hands, his shooting movements sweeping and powerful—this was always his style, always exuding a kingly aura.

"Get down!" Caesar roared.

Chu Zihang flipped over and leaped, running wildly for a few meters before lying flat on the ground.

Snake Man reached down and pulled the hunting knife from his forehead, raising it high and letting out an angry roar. Even with Dick's sharpness and Caesar's throwing force, the blade only penetrated two inches—far from a fatal wound for Deadpool.

But there was a piece of clay-like stuff stuck in the hunting knife.

The last piece of C4 explosive.

A blinding light exploded in the snake man's hand.

The shockwave and instantaneous high temperature swept through the surrounding space, throwing Caesar, Chu Zihang, and the Deadpools away from the explosion's epicenter. Caesar and Chu Zihang, covered in soot, rolled to their seats. Deadpool remained firmly standing at the center of the explosion, though only bronze-colored bones remained above his waist. The explosion instantly ignited him, his remains burning fiercely like a half-burnt candle. Yuan Zhisheng's guess was correct; Deadpool's grease was indeed extremely flammable, provided the fat beneath his scales came into direct contact with an open flame. C4 explosives could do that.

"Dead and still cosplaying the Statue of Liberty? Even science fiction wouldn't dare write something like that!" Caesar raised his gun and fired a burst at the burning snake man.

The snake-man's body collapsed with a crash, kicking up a cloud of dust. Between his slender fingers, Dick Tudor slowly slid down, the hilt of the knife slipping from his grasp, hissing as it scraped across the scorched ground, leaving a trail of sparks as it slid a considerable distance.

Caesar stepped forward, bent down, and picked up the longsword. He gently brushed the ash off the blade with his fingertips, stared at it for a moment, then with a flick of his wrist, he tucked the sword into a hidden pocket inside his trench coat.

Chu Zihang silently crouched down and carefully removed the remaining armor pieces from the snake-man's body, one by one. He picked up the fragments and turned to throw them into the raging fire. The flames whooshed and engulfed the ancient metal.

Caesar picked up the Sten submachine gun from the ground with both hands, weighed it in his hand, checked the magazine, and tossed it to Chu Zihang with one hand. Chu Zihang caught it steadily, and with his other hand, he pulled out the still-warm Winchester shotgun from under his trench coat and tossed it back without hesitation.

The two exchanged weapons and a glance—a tacit understanding that needed no words.

With a "click," the bullet was chambered.

They turned at the same time, their backs touching. Caesar could feel the warmth of Chu Zihang's shoulder blades through his clothes, and the steady rise and fall of his breathing. Chu Zihang could also hear Caesar's inhale before pulling the trigger.

Chapter 699 Caesar: Do you think I want to save you?

"Rat-a-tat-tat-tat—", the Sten submachine gun roared, its flames spitting out. Immediately afterward, "Bang! Bang!" the shotgun's muffled, powerful roar rang out.

The Deadpool horde, thrown back by the shockwave, was now regrouping. Their menacing golden eyes flickered in the darkness, like a pack of hungry wolves, slowly circling the two. Bullets whistled through their bodies, tearing flesh and splattering blood. Some were hit in the knees and collapsed to their knees; others were hit in the chest and arched backward. But quickly, they shakily rose again, their bones cracking, and continued their charge, their golden eyes fixed on the two.

Caesar and Chu Zihang remained silent. Only three sounds echoed in the hall: gunshots, Deadpool's roar, and the crackling of flames engulfing everything.

They mechanically repeated their actions—loading, chambering, aiming, firing. Shell casings clattered at their feet, piling up. They knew all too well that only the barrage of fire-spitting bullets before them could protect them. Once the bullets ran out and the barrage vanished, these monsters would swarm in like a tide, tearing them to shreds.

The Deadpools feared these roaring, fire-breathing weapons that inflicted excruciating pain. They hesitated, probing forward only to be forced back by bullets each time they took a few steps closer. But Caesar and Chu Zihang knew that these bullets wouldn't actually kill them. If these monsters swarmed them, the two of them would have no chance of survival.

But bullets will eventually run out. Just like someone holding a torch to scare away wolves, the torch will eventually burn out.

Chu Zihang emptied a magazine and, during the reload, roared loudly, his voice echoing in the empty hall: "You came back to save me? That was completely irrational! Even if you gave us another Gatling gun, we still wouldn't be able to fight our way out!"

Caesar, with a shotgun dangling from his mouth, was loading Sten magazines with both hands. Hearing Chu Zihang's words, he took the shotgun down and fired a shot that sent Deadpool flying within three meters. He turned and roared, "FXCK! You think I wanted to save you?!"

He pulled the trigger again, and the Sten submachine gun roared on. During the reload, he spoke rapidly, "That Japanese guy, Genjiro, keeps fucking saying, 'Let's go, let's go!' To hell with Genjiro!"

His voice was broken and fragmented by the gunshots, but his anger was clearly discernible.

Chu Zihang didn't speak again. He just smiled slightly, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly. The smile flashed by in the firelight, and he quickly returned to his expressionless face, continuing to load, chamber, and fire.

Behind me came Caesar's low curses and the sound of a Sten submachine gun jamming and then being slapped back into place.

In the hall, one crimson pillar after another collapsed with a deafening roar, each fall sending up a gust of scorching wind. The fiery wind and black smoke clashed violently, and the murals on the walls curled, yellowed, and finally burst into flames under the intense heat. The dragons and snakes in the paintings twisted and writhed in the fire, lifelike, as if they were truly leaping and soaring in the flames.

Yuan Zhisheng's vision was sometimes clear and sometimes obscured by the black smoke.

He leaned against the elevator door frame, half-kneeling, half-sitting, watching the two men who should have been rivals now stand back to back, fighting like two tireless stone statues. The Deadpool horde drew ever closer, the encirclement shrinking ever smaller.

He saw Caesar once shove the barrel of a gun directly into the gaping mouth of a Deadpool. With a muffled bang, the head exploded from the inside, and the body flew three or four meters. He saw Chu Zihang plant his longsword and Spider Cutter in the ground in front of him, the hilts within reach. Whenever a Deadpool rushed through the gaps in the barrage and got within two meters, he would quickly draw his sword, force them back with a single blow, and then immediately pick up his gun and continue firing.

They were far away from Genjiro.

The entire hall was shrouded in smoke and dust, with visibility extremely low. Sometimes, Yuan Zhisheng couldn't even see his own hands when he looked down, but strangely, he always felt he could see two men back to back in the distance. They were glowing. Strangely, the black smoke couldn't hide them, nor could the thick fog; they just shone dimly, making one unable to look away.

Piles of documents were sucked into the fire, the papers swirling in the heat, instantly ignited, transforming into countless burning butterflies. They danced, twirled, and fell amidst the black smoke. Yuan Zhisheng gazed at those fiery butterflies and suddenly remembered the Paradise House. That night was the same; bright butterflies danced in the flames—they were all burning ten thousand yen bills.

A girl wearing a twelve-layered blouse and white high heels stood in the center of the fire, smiling sweetly at him.

Looking back, Sakurai Kogure was indeed a very beautiful girl. She was exactly the type Genji would like. If they met in a Tokyo bar, he would probably walk up to her table and ask, "Hi, would you like to have a drink with me?"

But she never had the chance to meet him at the bar.

It's said that Kogure Sakurai went to Kassel College, a place the main family can't reach.

Some people are just that stubborn. Even knowing the outcome, they refuse to give up. They just want to dance, to dance according to their own rules, until they are burned to ashes.

Just like the two people in the fire right now.

Is persisting to the death and refusing to give up a virtue or foolishness?

Caesar was too childish.

but……

I'm so envious.

Yuan Zhisheng closed his eyes, then opened them again.

He channeled his remaining strength into his left arm, the bones cracking softly. His wrist, elbow, and shoulder—three joints dislocated simultaneously. This was a privilege afforded to people like him by their unique skeletal structure; with proper exertion, they could dislocate all their joints. A sharp, electric pain shot through his body, stimulating his nerves, and cold sweat immediately beaded on his forehead. But he gritted his teeth and remained silent.

After the dislocation, the arm was as limp as a cooked noodle, and the joint could be rotated in the opposite direction.

He used this method to gradually free his left arm from its restraints.

Then came his right arm. With one hand, he pulled off his stained white shirt, rolled it into a ball, and drew his sword, Dorikiri Yasutsuna, clenching his teeth and slicing open his left wrist. Blood gushed out, warm and sweet-smelling. He pressed his wrist against the rolled-up shirt, letting the blood soak through the fabric. The white shirt quickly turned deep red, heavy with blood.

With his still-functioning right hand, Yuan Zhisheng grabbed the blood-stained clothes and, with all his might, hurled them toward another corner of the fire.

The shirt flew in an arc through the air and landed with a "thud" on the ruins a dozen meters away.

Since the Deadpools like their own blood, then give them blood.

Genjiro, holding onto the elevator door, slowly slid down and sat on the floor. Blood loss and lack of oxygen caused his vision to blur, and his ears to ring. How ironic, the high and mighty emperor, ultimately died from blood loss. To be precise, he lost consciousness from blood loss and was burned alive in the fire. If the spirits of the emperors of the past were alive, they would probably laugh at his incompetence.

There's no way around it. Among all the emperors throughout history, Genjiro was the weakest. If the records of the family priests are accurate, then the previous emperors were at least ten times stronger than him.

For an incompetent emperor like him, this must be the limit, right?

Chapter 700: Run, run, run!

"What happened?"

Caesar's finger rested on the trigger, but he didn't pull it. Smoke curled from the muzzle, and Sten and the shotgun fell silent. He looked around, hardly believing his eyes.

No Deadpool pounced. The creatures were retreating from them, scrambling and tumbling towards a corner of the hall. As if something there was more attractive than them.

One minute ago, in Deadpool's eyes, they were sizzling, salted suckling pigs roasting over a fire. One minute later, they suddenly became nauseating swill. Forget about tasting them; Deadpool would avoid them like the plague.