Dragon Raja: Lu Mingfei finds a Freylian

Erii did not make a sound.

But Lu Mingfei felt as if an invisible giant was standing outside the entire building, reciting ancient testimonies in a language incomprehensible to humans. Layer upon layer of sound waves, almost tangible, struck the building's exterior walls again and again.

One after another, circular white spots appeared on the earthquake-resistant glass curtain wall.

The glass is cracking.

The air vibrated like a meteor shower, one after another, striking the surface of the building.

The ground was shaking.

The tables and chairs began to shift.

The Deadpools abandoned the metal cabinet, lay prone on the ground, and trembled all over.

They should have long forgotten fear and pain.

But at this moment, they were reminded again of the deep-seated humility they felt under the oppression of the "supreme."

Lu Mingfei couldn't tell whether it was an earthquake or the effect of Erii's words of power.

Damn, you don't have to do that!

So what if you use magic words? Simple and effective is also a kind of beauty!

There's no need to make it sound like a cataclysmic event, the end of the world, or Ragnarok every time!

In Erii's eyes, it was as if a golden sea was rising.

The dark red, like a receding tide, was gradually submerged. Then, gold completely filled every inch of her pupils—

She brandished her knife.

It was presented to me in a flat, indistinct way.

It's not a swordsmanship from any particular school. There are no starting stances, no Zanshin (a martial arts technique), and none of the complicated etiquette of a kendo dojo.

It's just a casual, flat slice, like cutting a birthday cake.

The sound waves disappeared.

The vibrations disappeared.

At this moment, the entire floor was as silent as if—

death.

The paper pieces floated in the air.

Pens, wastepaper baskets, computers, telephones, and even that floor-standing photocopier weighing 300 kilograms.

They floated silently, like weightless space capsules.

One second later.

They were torn to pieces.

Sharp fragments and air fragments spread out together, forming a visible, transparent shockwave.

Wherever they went, the Deadpools' black blood splashed like ink on the walls, ceilings, and floors, creating magnificent, fleeting flowers.

Erii sheathed her sword with a casual movement, like putting a used pen back into its holder.

The area around them looked like it had been bombed.

Lu Mingfei ran to the metal cabinet and forcefully pulled open the deformed cabinet door.

The girl in the uniform was curled up at the back of the closet, her hands covering her head, her eyes vacant, her lips moving but no sound coming out. She couldn't even cry anymore.

The metal cabinet shielded her from the sharp shards, but Deadpool's claws pierced her shoulder, soaking her white shirt in blood.

Fortunately, it was just a superficial injury, not a fatal one.

Lu Mingfei rummaged through drawers and cabinets to find a first-aid kit, then threw it into her arms.

He turned around.

Erii had already shattered the glass curtain wall, stepped onto the shaky elevator, and stood on the edge of the railing.

Heavy rain.

A night breeze, carrying moisture, swept over her, making her waist-length, dark red hair fly wildly. The hem of her white shrine maiden robe was soaked by the rain and clung to her legs.

She lifted her face and sniffed. She smelled the scents in the night air: the city's vibrant atmosphere, car exhaust, the aroma of tonkotsu broth wafting from ramen shops, the oden from 24-hour convenience stores, and the damp asphalt after the rain.

She stared blankly at the city, which was a sea of ​​lights.

That was something she had only seen on television, something she had never actually set foot in—"the outside world."

Frillie followed and stepped onto the elevator. She walked to Erii's side, took out a large towel that was wet from the rain from her pocket, unfolded it, and gently draped it over Erii's shoulders.

Erii did not turn around.

She simply raised her hand and gripped the corner of the towel.

Frillie didn't say anything either.

Rain pattered between them.

Lu Mingfei stood by the broken glass curtain wall, watching the backs of the two people.

He suddenly remembered Lu Mingze's words.

Lanruo Temple is also haunted.

Ning Caichen met Nie Xiaoqian there.

But he felt he was not Ning Caichen.

He felt like a less-than-ideal nanny following behind the princess and her best friend, responsible for carrying their bags and handing them towels.

Chapter 689 Bloodbath

Caesar put on noise-canceling headphones and sunglasses, the heavy barrel of his Gatling gun resting on a steel beam. He adjusted his stance, his feet firmly planted on the beam, the muzzle pointing towards the abyss below.

Then he gave a thumbs-up and waved it at Chu Zihang and Yuan Zhisheng. The gesture meant: Ready.

The Deadpools swarmed at high speed between the steel beams.

They moved faster than before, not because their strength had returned, but because of hunger. They knew their food was not far above, and the more they couldn't find it, the more ferocious they became. Their claws left deep scratches on the steel, like a wild beast sharpening its teeth on a tree trunk.

Several Deadpools surrounded an elevator car that was stuck halfway through its journey.

The elevator car stopped at a depth of 45 meters because it had severed the tail of a Deadpool character during its high-speed journey. The computer determined that the elevator had malfunctioned and automatically activated the emergency brake.

At this moment, the Deadpools were perched atop the carriage, tearing at the sheet metal with their combined strength. Their claws, deformed with bony overgrowth and sharp as knives, were inserted into the seams of the steel plates like crowbars, then exerted force in different directions.

The sound of metal deforming echoed in the well, sharp and piercing, like the mournful cry of a dying beast.

The Deadpool, its tail severed, was not dead. It clawed into the metal roof of the carriage and struggled to climb up. Blood gushed from its severed tail, splattering onto the faces of its followers behind it, which only drove them even more frenzied. It was unwilling to give up the opportunity to share in this bloody feast.

A woman's cries echoed from inside the sedan chair. Desperate, devastated cries that reverberated in the darkness.

Genji was silent for a second. Then he pulled out the Spider Cutter and made a light cut on his wrist.

A thin stream of blood fell into the elevator shaft.

Dark red, warm, almost invisible in the dim space. But the reaction it triggered among the Deadpool horde was more intense than any light.

A drop of blood landed on the forehead of a Deadpool below.

Deadpool was tearing at a "can" that was about to be his. His claws had already ripped through the metal roof of the carriage, and his fingers reached into the gaps, touching the hem of the living creature inside.

But then it suddenly stopped. It twitched its nostrils, inhaling a fragrance it had never smelled before. It slowly raised its head and looked up.

For the first time, an expression beyond the instinct of hunting appeared in its golden pupils—it was hunger, it was longing, it was the almost devout ecstasy that a believer would have when looking up to a god.

It stretched out its tongue to lick the drop of blood on its forehead. But its tongue, deformed, wasn't long enough, and it couldn't reach it no matter how hard it tried.

It let out an angry, baby-like scream.

More drops of blood fell. They hit its face, its lips, and its open mouth.

The screams were filled with ecstasy, but the joy lasted only a few seconds.

The surrounding Deadpools pounced on him.

They tore at its face, eager to share the delicious taste of its blood. Claws pierced its eye sockets, teeth crushed its cheekbones, and its tongue was ripped out by the roots. Blood and brain matter splattered together, like fireworks bursting in the darkness.

Deadpool, his face bitten off, fell deep into the elevator shaft, and his place was immediately taken by other Deadpools.

The Deadpools swarmed below, tearing at each other and vying to lick the warm, ever-flowing blood. Their frenzy was ten times more intense than when they had attacked the metal cabinet.

It was like a ravenous demon that had been thirsting for hundreds of years suddenly smelling the aroma of human blood.

"Wow!" Caesar exclaimed, looking down through his sunglasses. "If Deadpool had a recipe, your blood would be a high-end ingredient like white truffles!"

“Although I don’t know why,” Genji said calmly, “I am indeed the most tempting prey in Deadpool’s eyes.”

He paused for a moment, then said, "Perhaps the evil spirits all want to devour what is high above them."

He looked down at the frenzied, tearing, serpentine creatures.

"They've been suffering in hell for far too long."

"pain?"

Caesar paused for a moment.

He hadn't thought of that word.

Deadpool was always a "corrupted monster," an "outcast to be eliminated," and a "defective product devoid of humanity" in his mind. Do they feel pain? When they are tearing apart their own kind, when their bodies are ripped apart by bullets, in the endless cycle of hunting and being killed, do they still feel anything?

“Shoot,” Genji said softly, his voice as light as a sigh. “Death will end all suffering.”

Deep inside the elevator shaft, the Deadpools climbed upwards with ecstatic joy.

The Death Servants besieging the sedan chair also abandoned their soon-to-be-obtained fresh meat. They scrambled towards the mural hall, which they saw as the restaurant where a grand feast was about to be held, and the main course of this feast was Genji's blood.

Blood was still flowing. Fine, warm drops dripped from the wrist that Yuan Zhisheng had cut open.

He did not stop the bleeding.

"Click." Caesar pulled the trigger of the Gatling gun.

The four barrels began to rotate. At first, it was slow, and the position of each barrel could be distinguished with the naked eye. Then it got faster and faster, until it became a blurry, silvery-gray blur.