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That head was more than twice the size of any of the others, and the scales covering its surface were not grayish-white but had a faint pearly luster, reflecting a sickly iridescence under the intense light of the thermite flames.

Its mouth has remained tightly closed since the start of the battle, and its eyes have never opened. But every time the Yamata no Orochi is fatally attacked, the other seven heads roar wildly, while this head remains unsettlingly silent.

That wasn't a deep sleep; it was a focused effort on something else. The true core of this body had never been involved in this battle; it had been using all its mental strength to fight against mercury and thermite while simultaneously accelerating its final awakening.

The White King's consciousness resides within this head.

It was not the echo of memories remaining in the fragments of the sacred remains, nor the primal instinct passed down through generations of dragon blood, but rather the complete core of the ancient supreme being himself, whose consciousness was split and hidden in every fragment of the skeleton after being killed by the Black King ten thousand years ago.

In his final, fragmented confession before his death, Herzog referred to it as the "Resonance of the Remains," believing that the fragment still slumbered deep within the Well of Remains, awaiting its complete resurrection.

But he was wrong.

This fragment had already eroded all of Yamata no Orochi's neurons from the inside during his twenty-one years of mad searching; from the moment it was formed as an embryo, it was not a brainless, deformed dragon.

It is a complete coffin awaiting restoration, and within its mind dwells a silent old emperor.

When the mercury vapor finally dissolved and peeled away the last layer of scales protecting the central skull, the head suddenly opened all its rows of eyes, the golden pupils emitting a bright light simultaneously under the high temperature.

It opened its mouth, and all the elemental breath it had accumulated since the start of the battle burst forth from the depths of its throat, forming a massive dark golden energy column as thick as the entire tunnel.

The roar shook the entire Kanto Plain. Groundwater rushed into the cavity from all directions and was instantly evaporated. Even the Self-Defense Force camp on the surface of the Red Well shook violently under this burst of strong energy.

This force is powerful enough to melt through time; no barrier in the world can withstand this blow that embodies millennia of resentment.

Erii didn't give it a chance to shoot far.

As she opened the mouth of the central skull, revealing the dazzling, incandescent energy core deep within her throat, she teleported herself to mid-air, directly opposite that mouth, and raised the long sword in her hand high.

In exchange for sealing the entire energy column's exit with her own body, she managed to deflect the dark golden, destructive breath, along with its energy and radiation, onto the blade.

The blade cleaved into the very center of the golden energy, and the intense heat rays burned cracks into the blade and splashed onto her cheek, while the golden light in her eyes shone even brighter.

She has been terribly worried about one thing since she was a child. She believes that anyone who talks to her will turn into a pile of cold, lifeless carbonized matter, and that the person she loves most will collapse after calling her name. Therefore, she is afraid to talk to anyone.

She swallowed the sound, hiding it on the tip of her pencil, pretending she had never owned it.

But now there's no need to worry. Those who deserved to live have already left the well, and she herself is relentlessly cutting down the only opponent who still deserves a curse.

As Erii pushed the central head back against the energy pillar, forcing it back into the boiling pool of blood, she finally parted her lips slightly.

She uttered her words of power in a clear, steady human voice that had not been heard by anyone for a long time.

Trial.

In this sealed underground cavity, in the deepest part of hell where mercury-white poisonous fog and thermite's blazing white flames intertwined, the command descended from the heavens upon the only ancient evil god remaining here. The energy breath emanating from the central head of the Yamata no Orochi was severed from the center, and the energy backlash instantly pierced through its entire spine, blasting it into countless fragments.

Those tiny white fragments of the King, clinging to the snake's flesh and blood, frantically trying to escape into the depths of every pool of blood, were now, along with their formless host, subjected to a final judgment that enveloped the entire Red Well airspace, precise down to every living and dead creature, and utterly devoid of any mercy.

The parasites screamed violently in the intense light that intertwined dark gold and silver-white. In the last second before they finally lost their autonomy and peeled off their host's bones, they couldn't understand how the White King could possibly lose to a girl who was raised by humans as a weapon but was still willing to stand here to protect a few ordinary humans.

The trial ended. The noise at the bottom of the Red Well gradually dissipated, leaving only the low, slow hum of the turbines rotating in the distance.

Steam and poisonous mist are rising from the shallows along the cracks in the rocks that have just been blasted open by elemental energy.

Chapter 851 Epilogue

Where the Yamata no Orochi disappeared, only ashes remained stuck to the charred bedrock at the bottom of the well, along with the long sword that had been restored to its original form, now clean and neatly stuck in the crevice of the rock.

Erii stepped barefoot from the air onto the charred rocks at the bottom of the well, and pulled out her sword by the hilt.

She turned her head away, covered her mouth and nose, and coughed a few times. The concentration of residual mercury vapor in this enclosed space was simply too high.

Then she looked up at the row of climbing cables above the well wall, damaged by the bone tail; there were no longer any lights left from the retreat.

Everyone—the wounded, the engineers, and the operatives covering the rear—was successfully evacuated before she was even standing in the heart of this burning hell.

-----------------

The torrential rain finally stopped before dawn. The black clouds that had shrouded the Red Well for a whole week were torn open by the sea breeze blowing from Tokyo Bay, and pale golden morning light poured down from the crack, falling on the open-air shrine called Awakening Temple on the top floor of the Genji Heavy Industries building.

The floodwaters had not yet drained, reflecting the vermilion torii gate washed by the rain and the gradually brightening sky.

The bamboo water aerator in the stone bowl was still dripping water slowly, each drop as clear and melodious as a chime.

All the heads of the Sheqi Eight Families were present. Apart from the Inuyama family, who had long since moved to the United States and established a permanent liaison office at the headquarters of the Secret Party, the current heads of the Ryoma, Sakurai, Fuma, and Miyamoto families all stood on either side of the long black stone table below the torii gate.

They were all dressed in the most formal black-patterned haori, with ancient swords passed down through generations at their waists and their respective families' bronze crests pinned to their chests.

Sakurai Nanami's right shoulder bandage was still faintly visible from the edge of her collar, and the cuffs of Miyamoto Shio's experimental robe still bore the thermite burn marks from the deepest part of the Red Well Tunnel. Fuma Kotaro's jinbaori, which had been torn by a dozen shotgun shells, was worn on the outermost layer of all the old and new scars.

No one was absent, no one avoided the scene. This open-air temple, where every stone slab had been sprinkled with dragon's blood, had witnessed countless momentous events over the past millennia, but none were quite like today.

A war has just ended, and the defeated side is still alive.

The Kassel College delegation stood on the other side of the long black stone table, facing the torii gate.

Lu Mingfei stood in the center, followed by Frilian, Chu Zihang, Caesar, Zero, and Fingel. They were all dressed in black formal attire from the Kassel College Executive Department, with gilded half-dead World Tree badges on their chests and no superfluous decorations on their collars.

Before the ceremony began, the principal's letter of plenipotence from Chicago was projected onto the giant screen above the stone table. Each line of text was concise yet weighty: Authorizing Commissioner Lu Mingfei to represent Kassel College and the Supreme Council of the Secret Party to accept the surrender of the Snake-Headed Eight Families and to sign all related documents.

Genji stood in the traditional position where the head of a family would take his oath of office, directly below the torii gate, facing the heads of various families and the Kassel delegation.

He wasn't wearing the blood-stained black trench coat; instead, he wore a pure white yuban (a type of traditional Chinese jacket) and light blue horse-riding hakama (another type of traditional Chinese clothing), with the doujigiri Yasutsuna (a type of sword) hanging at his waist and the spider-like sword held in his hands to his chest.

He didn't look like a battlefield commander who had just led his men to a narrow escape from a bloody underground battle; he looked like a man who had done everything he could and now only needed to complete the last task.

He stopped in front of the stone table, placed the spider he was holding flat on the table, and knelt on one knee.

Behind him, Ryoma Genichiro and Sakurai Nanami knelt down on one knee at the same time, followed by Miyamoto Shio and Fuma Kotaro.

Without symphony or cannon salutes, hundreds of executive officers standing solemnly outside the Xingshen Temple simultaneously lowered their helmeted heads.

Yuan Zhisheng took out a scroll of silk cloth tied with a purple ribbon from his bosom and pushed it flat in front of Lu Mingfei with both hands.

"On behalf of all the retainers and all the clans under my command, the 75th head of the Snake-Headed Eight Families, Genji Chisei, unconditionally surrenders to the Kassel College and the Supreme Council of the Secret Party. From this moment forward, my family disbands all armed forces, transfers all research data and biological samples related to the dragon race, and accepts the permanent supervision of the college's resident commissioner. The responsibility for the defense of the dragon race on the Japanese archipelago shall henceforth be fully assumed by the Secret Party. This is my oath."

Lu Mingfei reached out and took the scroll of surrender with both hands. His fingers trembled slightly the moment they touched the cool silk, but he quickly regained his composure.

Frilian, standing beside him, made no sound or used any magic. She simply placed her fingertips lightly on the side of his wrist, her hand long and strong, the calluses on her fingertips from years of holding a wand pressed tightly against his own thumb.

Lu Mingfei signed his name with his other hand, his handwriting more neat than ever before when he signed in for an exam.

He then handed the surrender documents to Chu Zihang, Caesar, Zero, and Fingel in turn. Each signature was placed directly above the family crests of the heads of the eight families of the Snake Clan, and the ink shone with a very fine dark gold luster when it dried.

The last signature was Frilian's. She didn't use a pen, but instead pressed her finger on the paper, and a pale golden elven incantation seeped deep into the silk fibers. It was the exact same incantation pattern that her friend, the dragon slayer Saint George, signed when laying the foundation stone for the Grand Cathedral in another world.

She withdrew her finger and nodded slightly to Yuan Zhisheng, who was kneeling on one knee in front of the stone table.

After the ceremony, the heads of various families outside Xingshen Temple dispersed.

Ryoma Genichiro helped Miyamoto Shio, who was still using a cane, down the bluestone steps, while Sakurai Nanami straightened and gathered up Fuuma Kotaro's jinhaori, which had been blown askew by the morning breeze.

The remnants of various units that have been separated for a long time need to be reorganized and rejoined, and the toxic gas that is still being discharged from the bottom of the Red Well needs to be dealt with by the Rock Flow Research Institute overnight.

After everyone had gradually walked away, Yuan Zhisheng suddenly stepped forward and gently grasped Lu Mingfei's hand, which was still holding the black fountain pen.

He didn't use the formal etiquette of a patriarch or college commissioner, but spoke in the same low voice he used to use when talking to the intern in the lounge who didn't yet know how to fasten cufflinks to his shirt.

"Lu Jun, I'm entrusting my sister to you." He squeezed that hand tightly before letting go.

Lu Mingfei was so struck by the sudden impact that his pen almost fell into the stone basin, but he managed to keep his composure. He stood up straight and answered in the most fearless voice he had ever used: "Yes. Frilian and I will take good care of her."

He paused for a moment, then added, "She won't need to write notes anymore. She can say whatever she wants directly, and no one will get into trouble because of this anymore."

Yuan Zhisheng nodded and gave no further instructions.

He turned and walked toward the helicopter that was waiting outside the torii gate.

The black fuselage and tail fin had just been painted with the Secret Party World Tree emblem and the Snake-Headed Eight Families Chrysanthemum pattern side by side, and the roar of the engine dried the last layer of water.

Finish this testimonial

After more than a year of back and forth, it's finally finished.

The ending was rushed, with no negotiation or battle between Genjiro and Genjiro, because Herzog died.

The story of Lu Mingfei's journey to the world of Freelian has been removed.

Thank you to every reader who has followed this far. I wanted to stop updating several times, but when I thought of my friends who are following the story, I gritted my teeth and persevered.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

ending:

Old Tang and his younger brother survived and took care of the children at the orphanage.

Fenrir and Xia Mi (Jormungandr) also survived and became human. One studied at home, while the other studied at Kassel College to accompany Chu Zihang.

Erii's body has recovered its health, and she no longer needs the Deadpool serum to sustain her short life.

Genjiro and Genjiro reconciled and together they managed the Snake-Headed Eight Families.

Caesar and Nono held a traditional Chinese wedding, which was attended by Lu Mingfei and Frilian, and Chu Zihang and Xia Mi.

Lu Mingfei and Frilian raise their child together, who is Erii. The three of them live happily together.

Chu Zihang is in good health and is helping Xia Mi take care of her younger brother Fenrir.

……

The characters in the story have reached their end; it's time to say goodbye.

See you in the next book.

About the next book

The remastered version of "Dragon Raja: Herzog Possesses Erii's Body as a Yandere" cannot be sent because it shows that the title is similar.

I am submitting my materials for review, and I need to prove that I am who I am.

If all else fails, I'll have to release the next book, "Dragon Raja: The RPG World Through Lu Mingfei's Eyes."

I'll try to post it before tomorrow, I'm so tired...

Signed for "Dragon Raja: The RPG World Through Lu Mingfei's Eyes"

Meow ~