Dragon Raja: History Simulator

Page 143

"Mai, this is not the way back to our residence."

Mai glanced at him through the rearview mirror, a fleeting white light flashing deep in her pupils. Her gaze held a hint of dazedness and struggle, but her words were unequivocal:

"This is where we're going, boss. You just told me to go to the shrine."

"Which shrine?" Wang Anzhi sat up straight, alert.

"The Shrine of the Hebi-Hachi family".

After the female ninja replied, Wang Anzhi saw the surrounding roads change unpredictably, and there were twisted cracks everywhere in the air.

He knew that this was an entry into the Nibelungen, or rather, a manifestation of the [space creation] within the seven alchemical kingdoms.

Now that he holds the power of the King of Bronze and Fire, he can easily break this barrier.

but……

Looking at the listless female ninja in the driver's seat and Erii's blank yet curious gaze beside him, Wang Anzhi finally gave up on the plan.

He could break the alchemy's operation, but he couldn't escape with both of them at the same time.

Time passed quickly, and Wang Anzhi noticed that time flowed much faster here than outside.

In the blink of an eye, he had left Nibelungen, and the sky above him had turned to twilight.

The shrine, nestled at the foot of a mountain in western Tokyo, is bathed in twilight. Its vermilion torii gates, under the setting sun, resemble a bleeding wound.

The Maserati drove up the driveway and finally stopped in front of an ancient building with a history of six thousand years.

Wang Anzhi pushed open the car door, and the air was filled with the scent of aged sandalwood and some indescribable stench of decay.

Stone lanterns lined both sides of the bluestone path, but the candlelight inside emitted an unnatural, pale glow.

“Something’s not right.” He turned to look at the head of the Uesugi family, and at the same time grabbed Erii’s hand and whispered, “Eri, listen to me, stay in the car and don’t go far.”

Erii suddenly broke free from Wang Anzhi's hand and took a few steps back lightly. This obedient girl was no longer as obedient as before, and the last bit of light in her eyes disappeared.

The shadow of the shrine's main hall fell upon her, and the white robes and crimson hakama of her shrine maiden attire gleamed eerily in the dim light.

She raised her head, her eyes also filled with a blank, silvery white, and bowed respectfully like a priestess serving a god, making way for him.

“Even you…” Wang Anzhi’s heart sank.

Then it occurred to him that it made sense. Yukio Hatoyama's dragon blood was so faint that it was almost imperceptible, and Mai Shutoku was merely a mixed-race person born in Japan. Compared to them, Erii, as "Tsukuyomi no Mikoto," undoubtedly had a closer relationship with that White Emperor.

"Brother, please come in." Erii spoke for the first time, her voice sweet and endearing.

But Wang Anzhi had no time to feel happy for her; he looked at the path Erii had pointed out to him.

The doors to the main hall of the shrine slid open silently, and more figures emerged from within.

The priests of the Snake Clan stood in neat rows, their eyes seemingly covered by a white film, their movements as uniform as marionettes.

They swept the courtyard and wiped the railings silently, but every movement was frighteningly precise, like a machine programmed with a set routine.

None of them noticed the abnormality before them, nor did they realize that the person in front of them was the head of the Uesugi family, who should have disappeared and run away from home long ago.

When the shrine gates opened, they saw Wang Anzhi and Uesugi Erii standing outside, and they spoke in unison:

"Welcome, distinguished guest."

The priests stopped what they were doing and turned to look at him in unison. Dozens of pale eyes flickered like will-o'-the-wisps in the darkening sky, terrifying and horrifying.

"Well! That's the Japanese tradition. They always make something really good seem so scary."

Wang Anzhi showed little fear. He took Erii's hand, whose eyes were filled with confusion, and prepared to walk forward on the "Ancient Road to the Underworld" that her sister had carefully prepared for her.

He had just taken a step when he turned around and looked at the female ninja behind him, who was already in a daze.

"Mai, you can stay here!"

The shapely female ninja did not reply until Wang Anzhi walked into the long ancient road, at which point he heard the sound of the female ninja struggling behind him.

"Boss, take care."

Wang Anzhi did not linger and continued to slowly traverse the ancient road paved with bluish-gray soil and yellowish-brown river water, guided by the shaman serving the gods beside him.

Chapter 225 My Sister Can't Be a Resentful and Yandere Dancer

"On a moonlit night, you abandoned me, like dew, like lightning..."

"My body is like duckweed, my heart like a spider web, every thread tied to you..."

"How I hate this, how I hate this, when will it end..."

The mournful waka poems, like delicate threads, drifted through the depths of the shrine as dusk deepened.

The voice was mournful and lingering, as if it contained a thousand years of sorrow and waiting, carrying a chilling quality that could penetrate to the bone.

Wang Anzhi had now reached the end of the ancient road leading to the Yellow Springs. It was an ancient shrine that resembled a woman's bedroom, enshrining the most revered figure within.

He looked in the direction of the sound and saw that a semi-transparent red curtain had been lowered into the center of the hall at some unknown time. Its color was like blood, or like the sunset, and it rippled slightly in the windless room.

Behind the curtain, a slender figure was slowly dancing to the music.

Wang Anzhi knew that this was his sister, the White Emperor Yuktrashir.

In his eyes, their last meeting was five solar ages ago. Back then, the White Emperor was proud and aloof, never as melancholy and pitiful as he was now, like a dancer.

Her movements carried an ancient yet eerie rhythm, her long sleeves fluttering, her waist bending slightly, each movement telling of the sorrow of abandonment and the deep-seated resentment.

The song, which came from behind the curtain, blended with the dance, accusing the heartless "wicked husband."

Wang Anzhi vaguely sensed that German orthopedics was slowly approaching him, and he couldn't help but feel a chill run down his spine.

The dancing figures seemed to sense Wang Anzhi's gaze; their movements abruptly ceased, and the singing stopped, yet the lingering melody still echoed in the empty hall.

"You've come, little brother."

The figure behind the curtain spoke softly, the voice piercing through the space and clearly reaching Wang Anzhi's ears, carrying a hint of indescribable familiarity and...resentment.

Wang Anzhi did not answer. He had not yet figured out whether the person in front of him was the White Emperor and High Priest Yggdrasil of the Dragon Clan that he knew well, or the creator goddess Izanami who had fallen and suffered a mental breakdown.

Yes, even a race as great as the dragons, who consider themselves gods, faces the same predicament as hybrids.

They can fall, they can become mentally unstable, and they can grow and create a new self within their own souls.

Like Xia Mi to Jormungandr, like Pompeii to Odin, like Angers to Loki, like Don Quixote to Norton.

However, compared to the White Emperor Yggdrasil, the "fall" of the aforementioned dragon kings is insignificant. Once a dragon king who controls the spiritual elements falls, the consequences are irreversible.

Wang Anzhi thought of the three Uesugi siblings. As the legitimate descendants of the White King, the true "Emperors," and the inheritors of the names "Amaterasu no Mikoto," "Tsukuyomi no Mikoto," and "Susanoo," they were actually controlled by a mere pontomedullary surgery.

It wasn't just them; even the resurrected Yamata no Orochi, the Susanoo who could rival the first generation of beings in ancient times, would be subject to this kind of constraint when it revived within Erii's body in the future.

This cannot be explained by a mere human surgery; the White Emperor, as the originator, must also have encountered a major problem.

Behind the curtain, it seemed as if there was a lament for Wang Anzhi's ruthlessness.

Then, a pale, almost transparent hand reached out from behind the curtain, accompanied by a mournful voice, "My dear brother, are you so heartless? You won't even exchange a single word with me."

With a gentle wave of her slender arm, Uesugi Erii, whose eyes were vacant beside Wang Anzhi, was as if drawn by invisible threads, and floated involuntarily and lightly toward the red curtain.

Wang Anzhi wanted to stop her, but he didn't make any move. So Erii walked forward in her shrine maiden outfit.

The priestess mechanically reached out her hand, and the moment her fingertips touched the curtain, the blood-red color rippled and silently slid apart to the sides, revealing everything behind it.

Behind the curtain was not the shrine interior as one might imagine, but a more mysterious and enigmatic space. The floor was as smooth as a mirror, reflecting a faint light that seemed to emanate from nowhere.

The White Emperor Yggdrasil, or perhaps the fallen Izanami, was kneeling on an old futon, leaning against a dressing table.

Wang Anzhi was able to recognize that she resembled his sister Yktrahir.

Even so, he still couldn't confirm that the ordinary, goddess-like person in front of him was the majestic and unapproachable White Emperor he remembered.

She wore a magnificent twelve-layered kimono, its layers of fabric spreading out like clouds, its colors complex and elegant, interwoven with moon white, cherry pink, autumn fragrance, and raven blue, embroidered with fine, shimmering dragon and snake patterns that seemed to breathe.

Her beauty defies description; it is an ultimate beauty that transcends gender and conventional understanding.

Her face was as bright as the full moon on the sixteenth night of the lunar month, her eyebrows were like distant mountains shrouded in green, and her lips were adorned with rouge; even without smiling, she was full of affection.

Especially those eyes, deep within which lay a pool of the moon's essence, shimmering with silver light, so profound they could draw in one's soul.

Her long, raven-feather-like hair was unbound, cascading down like a waterfall, almost touching the ground.

At this moment, Uesugi Erii was kneeling beside Yggdrasil like a priestess serving the gods, and she had picked up a cypress comb from the dressing table beside her.

Her eyes remained vacant, but her movements were gentle and precise as she began to comb the White Emperor's long, black hair that reached the ground.

The comb teeth brushed against the hair, creating a soft rustling sound that was particularly clear in the quiet space.

Wang Anzhi looked at Erii and breathed a sigh of relief. As expected, the unfamiliar "older sister" in front of him did not make things difficult for her shrine maiden and her little girl.

Before Yggdrasil stood a weathered bronze mirror. The mirror did not face either of the two men, but instead reflected the figures of Wang Anzhi and the White Emperor from an angle, like an ancient painting.

Quite coincidentally, the witch behind the White Emperor was not depicted in the painting; only the wooden comb in her hand brushed against her hair.

She did not look directly at Wang Anzhi, but stared at the mirror.

The bronze mirror wasn't very clear, and the reflection of her figure had a hazy halo, but it perfectly outlined her breathtaking profile, as well as the reflection of Wang Anzhi, who was standing in front of her without moving.

She stared blankly at Wang Anzhi's reflection in the mirror, as if she had finally captured that familiar silhouette again through the dust of thousands of years.

After a long while, she lowered her head slightly, looking at Erii's hands combing her long hair. Her voice was as soft as a dream, yet carried a tremendous weight, slowly echoing in the space:

"Long time no see, little brother."

Chapter 226 My Yandere Sister is Terrifying

Wang Anzhi's throat was a little dry. Faced with this greeting that spanned so long, he finally managed to squeeze out a low reply: "...Sister."

Nevertheless, he was certain that the White Emperor before him was not the Yggdrasil he knew as the High Priest among the dragons.

Rather, it is Izanami who, during a long period of evolution, "fell" due to some unknown event.

Or, to put it in more easily understood terms.

Yggdrasil is more like Lu Mingfei, who is asleep in a dream and has not yet awakened, while Izanami is a little devil who stole the supreme authority because of the "Supreme's" slumber.

This form of address seemed to please the person behind the curtain.

Izanami's lips curled up slightly, revealing a breathtaking yet delightful smile, as if she were very pleased that she had stolen the "items" that once belonged to Yggdrasil.

She raised her hand again, her fingertips gently hooking towards where Wang Anzhi was standing.