The King of the present age bore his destiny. He would strike the ghouls crawling out of their graves back into hell. Whether it was the eight-headed monstrosity or Herzog, who had cheated death in the snow once before.
Gen Chisei's eyes shimmered with emotion as he silently watched Erii, his sister, standing there in her pure white wedding dress. He had just fought a duel to the death with his brother, Kazama Ruri; now, both were at their wits' end, only a step away from the grave.
"Lu Mingfei..." He called the name of the boy—no, the man, who had suddenly charged into the Red Well.
Lu Mingfei walked slowly toward him and took the two legendary blades from his hands: the Kumokiri and the Dojigiri Yasutsuna.
His face was stained with gore, but this was the blood of the Death Servitors he had slaughtered back at Takamagahara. As his hands gripped the hilts, fine dragon scales swarmed over the guards like a tide, spreading all the way to the tips of the blades. The scales vibrated with an intense, rhythmic hum; these two peerless katanas seemed to be granted true life in his hands.
Lu Mingfei turned, pausing for a brief moment. He looked at Gen Chisei and said, "Big brother, you can't go dying here."
Gen Chisei felt the dragon blood in his veins freeze for a second. Erii was his sister. Not long ago, he had arranged a private jet to take her to South Korea, yet Lu Mingfei had brought her right back. He hadn't even had the chance to demand an explanation yet!
"I haven't... given my consent," he gasped, forcing his body to stay upright.
"You don't have a choice," Lu Mingfei replied tonelessly. He set off toward Herzog, the mastermind who had orchestrated everything from the shadows.
Gen Chisei suddenly felt a lump of frustration in his chest. He turned his head toward his sister. Her gaze, from start to finish, was fixed solely on Lu Mingfei. Her expression, the way her brows lifted, was like a fluttering butterfly, carrying that unmistakable, poorly hidden joy of a young girl in love. It was the look of a student secretly reading a sweet romance novel in a serious classroom, trying to keep a straight face while their metaphorical tail wagged uncontrollably.
He had never seen Erii like this. Nor had he ever seen Lu Mingfei like this, holding twin blades, his back as cold and unyielding as iron.
Herzog frantically reached for his invincible wooden clappers. He only needed one sharp tap, and everyone present except Lu Mingfei would lose their power. This was the controller for Hybrids who had undergone bridge-severing surgery; it was his ultimate ace.
Lu Mingfei looked at Herzog with indifference, his pupils reflecting the cold, metallic grey of the rain. He had seen this man before, not just within the ranks of the Yamata no Orochi, but in that future timeline Zoran had shown him.
"Defiant one... you shall die!"
Lu Mingfei let out a roar. Every ounce of power granted by his dragon transformation surged through his body. He was preternaturally fast, the two famous blades slicing through the curtain of rain. A sharp flash of sword-light passed in an instant; before the sound of the clappers could even ring out, his silhouette appeared behind Herzog.
Herzog lowered his head blankly. He had never seen a blade so fast. Even the heads of the Orochi who possessed the ninth-rank Soku could not keep up with such a frigid strike. The fastest blade is only perceived after the cut is complete.
The clappers in his hand split in two, and so did he. With a wet thud, the two halves of Herzog hit the ground, his pupils wide with shock.
But the battle was not over. Within the Red Well, the eight-headed monstrosity began to shriek once more. This was the Yamata no Orochi of Japanese myth, a horror birthed within the Red Well. Just a short while ago, it had been captured after Kazama Ruri severed four of its heads. Now it roared again, its missing flesh churning as it regrew all eight heads to howl at the heavens.
The sound of frantic footsteps approached from all directions. The dregs of the Oni Clan swarmed toward the Red Well. Herzog had summoned the majority of the squad here; having consumed the blood of "God" and evolution serums, they had become true demons.
Lu Mingfei gave his blades a sharp flick, shaking off the blood clinging to the tips. The wedding of two monsters would have its red carpet paved with the blood of the defiant!
He lunged forward like an arrow released from a bow. From every direction, from heaven to earth, cold and cruel blade-light erupted across the bodies of the Orochi and the demons. It was a beautiful, macabre dance.
Above, a full moon peeked through the dense, dark clouds, casting down a low glow. The man danced alone under the moonlight, his brilliant blade-light trailing ink-like blood. Lu Mingfei's form flickered like a shifting star, impossible to pin down. The only thing visible was the blooming spray of gore upon the Yamata no Orochi; he was personally planting clusters of crimson Spider Lilies across its massive frame.
One by one, the eight heads hit the dirt.
He thrust the Dojigiri Yasutsuna deep into the defiant creature's belly. With a roar, Lu Mingfei drove the beast into the abyss of the Red Well. He panted, crouching low, his suit blending into the twilight.
"It isn't God! God is inside it, a disgusting parasite!" Kazama Ruri, or perhaps he should be called Gen Chime in this moment, shouted a desperate warning.
With Lu Mingfei's appearance, everyone saw hope. He possessed the strength to change the world.
Lu Mingfei glanced at him, gave a slight nod, and plunged the two legendary blades into the ground. He walked slowly toward the edge of the Red Well. No one knew what he intended to do except himself. Searing heat gathered in his dragon-transformed throat. The Red Well erupted with terrifying light and heat.
He lowered his head, and a massive pillar of fire descended from the heavens. Like a Sword of Damocles destroying everything in its path, he passed the death sentence upon the defiant.
The Red Well boiled instantly. This turbid cauldron of mercury and serum, the very womb that birthed the Yamata no Orochi, exploded under the incomparable power of the flame, pushed to total annihilation in the blink of an eye. The earth shuddered as the power of the Dragon Breath surged into the ley lines, causing blinding fire to erupt from the cracks in the ground.
In this world, neither demons, kings, nor so-called gods could survive under the authority granted by Shendu. Lu Mingfei personally consigned it all to a grave of fire. This was his responsibility, not just for himself, but for his faith. As the proxy, he would uproot all rebellion.
He had done it.
As the surging energy prepared to detonate beneath the earth, he leaped back, looking as though he hadn't just fought a world-ending battle. He nimbly hoisted Gen Chisei and Chime, tossing them toward the Suzuki RG500.
"Drive. Go," he commanded, his voice brooking no argument.
Chime supported Chisei as he took the front seat. He seemed to recall something and let out a soft laugh. "Brother, looks like it's my turn to take you for a ride."
The engine roared. Chisei looked back at Erii with concern; the area was about to blow, yet Lu Mingfei had given them the only vehicle. Chime pinned the throttle, and they charged out of the heart of the site.
A deafening explosion erupted behind them. An irresistible, primordial force tore the Red Well apart, and the blinding fire nearly illuminated the pitch-black clouds. He looked back to see a streak of light flying out from the heart of the blast.
Lu Mingfei had grown wings, menacing dragon wings that granted him extreme speed as he streaked through the low sky. Clutching his girl in his arms, he tore through the wind, chasing after the motorcycle.
Reckless and free. Like a falling star.