Dragon Raja: Lu Mingfei finds a Freylian

It was Caesar.

He crouched on the other side of the corpse, having lurked there and observed for an unknown amount of time. With him there, Chu Zihang didn't need to worry too much about sneak attacks from the shadows. Under the cover of the Kamaitachi's domain, Caesar was a sophisticated human radar, unable to escape his detection at the slightest movement.

While Caesar's parable is crude, it may not be entirely without merit. The bite of a giant predator can cause similar, massive wounds with a jagged, tearing effect.

"When I arrived, their bodies were still warm enough to retain the warmth of living people," Caesar said, regaining his serious expression. He gestured around, "That means that bastard who killed like a madman had just left a few minutes before I arrived. If we had come a few minutes earlier..."

He didn't finish his sentence, but his meaning was clear: they would most likely become part of the corpses scattered everywhere.

"What conclusions can be drawn from the scene?" Chu Zihang asked.

"Fast. Extremely fast," Caesar said succinctly. "The whole process took no more than ten seconds, maybe even less. These people are all elites of the Executive Bureau, not greenhorns, and they all carry guns. But from the start to the end of the killing, not a single one of them managed to draw their gun, let alone fire a warning shot or retaliate. Of all the people I know, probably only the principal could do that."

Chu Zihang nodded silently, agreeing with Caesar's assessment. Angers' Word of Power, Time Zero, was precisely the embodiment of extreme speed.

If it had been a few minutes earlier, they would likely both have perished. Chu Zihang's Monarch Flame was incredibly powerful, but it required preparation time. While Bloodlust could instantly boost physical attributes, against absolute speed superiority, it might render him incapable of fighting before he could even activate it. Caesar, with his Kamaitachi, might be able to detect the attack in advance, but whether he could effectively defend or dodge it at such extreme speed was uncertain.

This confirms the old saying in martial arts novels: "In the world of martial arts, speed is the only thing that cannot be broken."

"Who would dare to massacre the elite of the Execution Bureau right in the headquarters of the Snake Clan? What is their purpose?" Chu Zihang asked the most crucial question. The massacre occurring in this extremely important Shinto area was no accident.

"Who knows?" Caesar shrugged, trying to lighten the oppressive atmosphere. "Maybe he's a mad killer with a fanatical obsession with classical art? He thinks that splattering blood on murals adds a kind of postmodern aesthetic?"

He held out his hand. "Give me a flashlight. This place is as dark as hell. You can't see anything with your firewood stick."

Chu Zihang took out a miniature high-powered flashlight from the inside pocket of his trench coat and handed it over.

Chapter 652 True History

Caesar switched on his powerful flashlight, the cold white beam piercing through the thick darkness and the stench of blood like a searchlight. He didn't shine it haphazardly, but instead held the flashlight high above his head, spreading the light as evenly as possible, then cautiously walked close to the cold stone wall.

Where the beam of light reached, the space behind the screen wall became even more expansive and awe-inspiring, as a historical scroll sealed for thousands of years slowly unfolded before them.

Like the screen wall we had just seen, the entire wall of this enormous hall, and perhaps all the walls within sight, were covered with ancient murals painted in the most intense colors of ochre and indigo. The murals were vast and continuous, stretching as far as the eye could see.

The murals still depict ancient creatures with human bodies and snake tails. However, instead of the fierce battle scenes on the screen wall, they have transformed into a vast, solemn, and primitively religious sacrificial procession. Thousands upon thousands of these creatures, each with a different posture and a dignified expression, form a procession that stretches to the ends of the earth.

Some of them held aloft blazing torches, the flames appearing to leap as if painted by the artist; others held long staffs with jewels or strange bones at their tips, like priests on a pilgrimage; still others rode on strange creatures with wings on their backs, their forms somewhere between dragons and giant snakes, soaring above the procession.

This magnificent procession performs a mysterious and frenzied dance around a massive, bottomless pit in the center of the image. The pit's edges are depicted as twisted rocks and lava, leading straight to the earth's core. At the very depths of the pit lies an unimaginably enormous skeleton.

The artist used molten gold to depict the skeleton, giving it a sacred yet eerie dark golden hue even in the dim light. The skeleton's form was indescribable, neither dragon nor snake, exuding an ancient and savage aura. In the skeleton's head, a burning golden sun was set in its left eye socket, while a cold, silver crescent moon shone in its right. The sun and moon shone together, illuminating the depths of the cave and the skeleton's silence.

Chu Zihang stood below the mural, gazing up at it, speechless for a long time.

The shock from the painting on the screen wall had not yet subsided, and now, facing this bizarre, grand, and tragic world constructed by hundreds of ancient murals stretching endlessly, any words seem pale and powerless.

“There’s nothing here except these paintings,” Caesar broke the silence, sweeping the beam of his flashlight across the empty hall. The hall was extremely spacious, with no unnecessary partitions or furniture except for the massive stone pillars supporting the dome. The floor was made of polished stone slabs, covered with a thin layer of dust.

"This empty hall was specifically built to display these murals. They needed a large enough, continuous wall to display them, so they didn't hesitate to hollow out the entire floor to create this exhibition hall." He clicked his tongue. "When the Japanese get extravagant, they can be ruthlessly unreasonable."

Chu Zihang did not respond to Caesar's remark. He took a few steps forward, extended his finger, and very carefully rubbed it against a red area on the mural. His fingertip felt a rough, grainy texture and was stained with some dark red powder.

He brought his fingertips to his nose and sniffed carefully. The scent of dust carried a familiar mineral aroma. "It's iron oxide, a red pigment made from hematite," he said in a deep voice, explaining that it was one of the mineral pigments commonly used in ancient murals.

Then, he took the flashlight from Caesar, refocused the beam on the frescoes, and began to walk slowly forward, examining each ancient image with utmost concentration, imprinting every line and every color in his mind. He didn't utter another word, completely immersed in interpreting the art and secrets that spanned two thousand years.

Caesar followed Chu Zihang like a shadow for several minutes. This was almost unimaginable for the proud and arrogant young master of the Gattuso family, who regarded Chu Zihang as his nemesis. But at this moment, Caesar had to admit that in terms of knowledge, especially in fields involving ancient history, art, and semiotics, Chu Zihang far surpassed him, a nobleman who was more adept at practical combat, social interaction, and spending money.

The secrets hidden in these murals were so astonishing that they aroused his intense curiosity.

"Ahem," Caesar finally couldn't hold back any longer, clearing his throat and speaking in a tone that tried not to sound too condescending, "Have you figured out what's going on?"

Chu Zihang paused slightly, but his gaze remained fixed on the mural. He remained silent for a longer period, engaging in complex comparisons, analyses, and reasoning in his mind.

“These murals…” he said, “are very similar in style and technique to the ‘Jataka tales’ in Buddhist art.”

“Bunta’s paintings?” Caesar raised an eyebrow; the term was somewhat unfamiliar to him.

“It’s a special form of narrative painting in Buddhism,” Chu Zihang explained, his gaze lingering on the murals. “It usually consists of a series of scenes that tell the stories of the Buddha Shakyamuni’s various good deeds, sacrifices, and practices in his countless reincarnations as a Bodhisattva or in other forms. There are many famous Jataka tales in the Dunhuang Grottoes, such as ‘Cutting Off Flesh to Trade for a Dove,’ ‘Sacrificing Oneself to Feed a Tiger,’ and ‘The Jataka of the Nine-Colored Deer.’”

He paused, his finger tracing the surface of the mural: "From the perspective of painting techniques, the use of pigments, the style of lines, and the layout of the composition are highly similar to the techniques of the grotto murals in Dunhuang and the surrounding areas of China from the third to the fifth centuries AD. Historical records indicate that around the third century AD, the queen of Yamatai in Japan sent envoys to Cao Wei in China, and it is very likely that they came into contact with and learned this advanced painting technique at that time, and used it to paint their own religious murals."

He looked up at Caesar and said, "In other words, these murals may have been created close to two thousand years ago."

"I'm not particularly interested in its artistic value or the specific year it was painted," Caesar waved his hand, getting straight to the point. "I just want to know, why are these paintings so important? So important that the Snake Clan would spare an entire floor of a skyscraper to hide them here like ancestral tablets? And even prioritize moving them during an emergency evacuation?"

Chu Zihang turned around to face Caesar, raising the beam of his flashlight to illuminate a larger and more detailed mural behind him.

In the mural, dragons and snakes writhe and soar in the vast ocean, while ancient and majestic cities stand on the expansive land. Wide, crisscrossing roads, like giant dragons, span the sea and connect to distant continents. At the highest point in the sky, two majestic and sacred dragons, one black and one white, float side by side, each extending a claw to grasp a golden scepter that pierces through heaven and earth and shines with the light of the sun.

"In the hearts of Buddhists, Jataka tales record the true history of the Buddha's reincarnations before he attained Buddhahood," Chu Zihang's voice echoed in the empty hall. "As for these murals, I think they represent the true history of their origins and the world as perceived by the Eight Families of the Snake Clan!"

He reiterated: "True history!"

"The Black King and the White King!" Caesar's gaze was fixed on the mural of two dragons holding a scepter. He remained silent for a full half minute before uttering these words through clenched teeth. It was as if even a slightly louder voice would disturb the supreme being sleeping within the mural, the one who ruled over an ancient era.

Chapter 653 White King!

Looking at the battle scenes on the screen wall, Caesar might have guessed that this was an artistic imagination of ancient humans based on myths and legends, like the wars between gods and demons described in the epics of various nations. But seeing this map that clearly depicts the co-rule of the Black King and the White King, and the spread of dragon civilization across the globe, he completely agreed with Chu Zihang's judgment.

This is not a fantasy, but a group of ancient people who know the lost truth, using their paintbrushes to record the history of the previous era, which they see as real and belonged to the rule of the dragons!

Kassel College and the Secret Party have spent countless generations painstakingly piecing together and deducing from fragments of myths, legends, and relics from all over the world to barely reconstruct a possible history of dragon civilization.

They believe that in the distant past, there once existed a glorious era ruled by dragons. Nidhogg, the Black King, as the progenitor and supreme emperor, ruled all. The White King, as the priest and vice-ruler, assisted the Black King. In that era of dual rule, even the tyrannical and warlike dragon nobles were awestruck by the immense power. Dragon civilization reached its zenith, its majesty radiating across the globe from the Black and White thrones located in the north.

The mural before us is like a vivid world map of the dragon civilization at its peak! It clearly outlines the territory of the dragons' activities, important cities, and transportation routes connecting various places during that era, and even clearly points out the rulers—the Black King and the White King.

The conclusions that the secret society had studied for thousands of years and which were still highly controversial were actually depicted by an artist with such magnificent brushstrokes on the wall of an unknown temple in Japan two thousand years ago!

"Do you see those thin lines of text in the upper left corner of the mural?" Chu Zihang asked, moving the beam of his flashlight to the top of the mural. There, several lines of small characters were written in an ancient and elegant script. The characters were structurally rigorous, with rounded lines that also contained angular turns, exuding a sense of antiquity.

“It’s in Chinese seal script,” Chu Zihang said. “Two thousand years ago, the Japanese writing system had not yet been fully formed, so the painter used Chinese seal script, which was commonly used in the East Asian cultural sphere at the time, to annotate the mural. The name of this painting is—Ancient Feng Shui.”

"The word 'Kanyu' originally referred to terrain and landforms, and later it came to mean the study of Feng Shui. 'Ancient Kanyu' means ancient topographical maps, or rather," Chu Zihang paused, "world maps from the time when the Dragon Clan ruled this world in the previous era!"

“Oh…” Caesar let out a long sigh, standing side by side with Chu Zihang, looking up at the incredible ancient map. “If they are willing to put these murals up for auction, I bet the principal and my stallion father will fight tooth and nail at the auction, risking everything to get them.”

Gazing at these murals, it feels as if time has truly flowed backward.

The era described in current history textbooks as "the end of the Quaternary Ice Age, a time of desolation and decline of life" presents a completely different picture in the murals.

A great and powerful civilization, like the most magnificent flowers, bloomed across the globe. Towering bronze pillars, serving as landmarks and energy nodes, surrounded which well-planned and imposing cities were built. At the city center stood a colossal tower reaching to the heavens, atop which a temple dedicated to the dragon race was erected. Wide, flat, and imperishable imperial roads, like the body of a dragon, traversed oceans and mountains, tightly connecting these cities separated by vast distances, forming an unprecedented, globally integrated super-civilization network.

Without saying a word, Chu Zihang took out a small digital camera from the inside pocket of his black trench coat.

Caesar was taken aback: "Where did you get this thing from?"

"Akihabara Electronics Street. Discount, plus a free camera case and spare batteries." Chu Zihang calmly answered while skillfully opening the camera and adjusting the settings, "I originally intended to use it to photograph the structure of Princess Kaguya's core, so I could analyze it when I got back."

"You can't even speak Japanese, yet you dare to go to Akihabara to buy things all by yourself?" Caesar found it somewhat unbelievable.

"It's alright." Chu Zihang began taking close-up photos of the murals, with flashes going off intermittently in the dimly lit hall. "That shop has a lot of Chinese tourists. The shop assistant was very happy to tell me that he was from Northeast China and even asked if I was from the same hometown."

Caesar: "..."

The murals beyond the map gradually become more absurd, bizarre, and incomprehensible.

There was a ferocious monster with eight long, winding necks like giant pythons, and eight heads of different shapes encircling its hill-like body. The long necks were intertwined and knotted together. It lay prostrate on the ground, its eight heads reaching towards the sources of eight great rivers, seemingly drinking from them. Its long tail, as sharp as a celestial blade, sliced ​​through the majestic mountains at the ends of the rivers.

Even more horrifying, a blood-red liquid continuously flowed from its enormous abdomen, mixing into eight rivers and turning the water a deep crimson. Judging from the proportions of the image, this monster may have been hundreds of kilometers long, making it a truly world-destroying entity.

Another naked woman was frozen within a huge, crystal-clear block of ice, her face serene as if asleep. A slender snake emerged from a crack in the ice, raised its head, and was conversing with a blurry figure above the ice, who appeared to be a priest.

A series of bizarre and fantastical images, full of strong symbolism yet extremely obscure, come one after another, impacting the viewer's perception.

This was not the first time Caesar had seen similar paintings filled with mystical symbols and obscure narratives.

The Gattuso family's secret archives contain numerous parchment scrolls and sorcery manuscripts from the Middle Ages and even earlier. These sorcerers used hand-drawn, eerie illustrations, combined with long-lost magical symbols or codes, to record their discoveries about alchemy, the power of words, and even the nature of the world. To maintain secrecy, their drawings were often extremely obscure, pieced together from various symbols.

For example, a painting depicting a "beautiful maiden drinking from a golden cup" may not have the idyllic meaning it portrays. In Western esoteric traditions, the "golden cup" often symbolizes the "Holy Grail," which is associated with the blood of Christ. A more accurate interpretation of the painting might be that "a princess, as a sacrifice, drinks the blood of Christ, thus completing a bloody ritual to summon an ancient being."

These Japanese murals, dating back two thousand years, are actually using the techniques of Dunhuang murals to depict secret books that are even older and more fundamental than medieval black magic scrolls! They are classic texts that record the ultimate mysteries of the Dragon Clan civilization, and their value is immeasurable.

"Can you understand these?" Caesar naturally took over the task of providing supplemental lighting for Chu Zihang, illuminating the details of the murals that Chu Zihang was carefully photographing with a flashlight. These murals were too large for the flash of a portable camera to capture, so he could only photograph them in sections.

“We can only try to interpret the most superficial and intuitive part,” Chu Zihang said solemnly as he pressed the shutter. “But the information contained in these murals far exceeds our current understanding of the history of the Dragon Clan. The Snake Clan has never revealed any information about these murals to Kassel College; they are well aware of their value. That’s why, in the critical moment of the Metropolitan Police Department’s search, they prioritized moving them to the most hidden inner area of ​​Genji Heavy Industries, ensuring that no outsiders could see them.”

He stretched out his finger again and gently rubbed it against an area of ​​the mural that was particularly dark red and not yet completely dry. This time, his fingertip was covered with more and thicker red paint.

“Smell this,” he said, holding his finger up to Caesar.

Caesar leaned closer, sniffing carefully. "There's a greasy smell, and," he frowned sharply, "the smell of blood! A very strong bloody smell! This is definitely not iron oxide!"

The hall floor was covered in fresh human blood, the stench of which was overwhelming. But the red pigment scraped from the two-thousand-year-old murals emitted a more primal, more intense bloody odor, carrying an eerie sense of vitality. It should have long since dried into powder, yet it remained sticky like paste.

“If my judgment is correct,” Chu Zihang withdrew his finger, his sharp gaze fixed on the numerous human figures painted with this special red pigment on the mural, “this is a special pigment made by mixing mermaid oil with their blood.”

"Mermaids?" Caesar immediately thought of the terrifying "corpse guardians" deep in the Japan Trench, with human-like upper bodies and snake tails. In Japanese mythology, they are often called "mermaids" or "Isohime".

“Mermaid oil is extremely special; it can remain uncongealed and undried for thousands of years, making it an excellent material for making everlasting lamps and special anti-corrosion coatings. Their blood is also mixed with dragon blood, which also has preservative properties,” Chu Zihang said slowly. “Since the people who painted these murals were able to capture so many mermaids and extract their oil and blood to make pigments, it means they must have known about the existence of the ancient city of Takamagahara and the secrets of the deep-sea corpse guardians. The painters were ancestors of the Snake-Headed Eight Families. These murals were originally painted on the walls of their family's ancient shrine, and were later transferred here using the superb technique of completely removing the murals for preservation.”

He pointed to the human figures in various poses painted with dark red mermaid blood on the mural: "Using this special pigment to paint human figures has a very special religious meaning in ancient sacrificial paintings—representing 'spiritual communication' or 'soul imbuing.' Mermaids are ancient hybrids, and their blood contains dragon blood. When painted with this blood, each human figure in the painting is given a trace of spirit, creating a mysterious connection with the real being depicted."

Chu Zihang's voice became even lower, "Therefore, when painters create these paintings, they dare not lie or fabricate in the slightest. They will do their best to pursue the ultimate truth, striving to reproduce, with every stroke, the true history they see or that has been passed down through generations."

His finger finally landed on a very special human figure in the mural. This figure was also painted with dark red mermaid blood, but its outline was carefully outlined with dazzling gold powder, making it stand out and appear noble in the entire mural.

"This human figure represents a very special and supreme meaning," Chu Zihang said, emphasizing each word. "He is the only one in this mural, among all the human figures drawn in blood, that is outlined in gold. This clearly indicates that his status and position are far superior to all the others."

In the painting, the person wears a tall crown decorated with magnificent feathers and holds a long, rod-like object with what appears to be inlaid with jewels at the top.

“Holding a long staff, in ancient murals, usually only has two interpretations: a weapon or a scepter. In this context, considering his supreme status, it should undoubtedly be interpreted as—a scepter.” Chu Zihang’s gaze was like a scalpel, dissecting every detail. “He is the undisputed leader of this group.”

"So, someone like a 'patriarch' or an 'emperor'?" Caesar speculated, following his line of thought.

“No.” Chu Zihang slowly shook his head, uttering a word that was top secret even within Kassel College, representing the pinnacle of hybrid power, “They call this person—'Emperor'.”

"Or, to put it in a way that's easier for us to understand—'super hybrid'."

Chapter 654 Super Hybrid

Caesar was stunned, his gaze lingering on the mural, trying to find any clue to this new word.

“A super hybrid?” he repeated in a low voice. “I’ve never heard of that concept before.”

Memories flashed back to the curriculum of Kassel College. The system of classifying hybrids by bloodline rank was indeed a system that was gradually perfected after the establishment of the college; later, because some individuals were found to exhibit power that was close to that of pure-blooded dragons, an S-rank was added above the A-rank.

Caesar knew perfectly well that this ranking did not depend solely on bloodline concentration, but rather on actual performance and controllability.

Undergraduate students are generally below Grade B. After graduation, they enter the Execution Department, and only by consistently demonstrating outstanding abilities can they gradually rise to Grade A. Those like him and Chu Zihang, who obtained Grade A solely based on their bloodline, are rare, not to mention special cases like Lu Mingfei, who was directly recognized as Grade S because of his bloodline. Of course, there are also examples like Fingel, whose excellent bloodline led to a continuous decline in performance, ultimately causing him to fall to Grade F.