Dark, inky clouds hung low in the sky, merging with the black sea below.
The sea was restless, rising and falling. A ship, completely painted in black, sliced through the waves like a sharp sword, leaving white streaks in its wake.
"Evening weather forecast: From 8 PM to 4 AM tonight, there will be a level 8 storm in the surrounding sea area. Port services are suspended. Ships are advised not to depart."
The radio in the ship's cabin broadcasted the evening weather forecast.
In such harsh weather, no ship would typically set sail, unless there was a specific purpose in mind.
Clearly, the ship sailing through the level 8 winds and waves had a hidden agenda.
At the front of the ship, a high-lumen searchlight pierced the darkness, its bright white light cutting through the swirling black clouds above. The deep, rumbling thunder sounded like the growl of a beast, carrying a biting cold wind.
A man holding a paper umbrella leaned against the ship's railing. He wore a blood-red kimono with wide sleeves, embroidered with large, striking flowers of the red spider lily.
This flower, known as Manjushage (Higanbana), was as red as fresh blood, its color contrasting with the man's pale white skin, adding a delicate beauty reminiscent of a performer.
At this moment, the ship's captain emerged, pressing his hat down against the fierce wind. He said in a low voice, "Dragon Lord, ahead is the 'Sumeru Platform'—the sea exploration platform of the Yamata no Orochi. We have completely taken control of it."
"What a nice night," the man in the extravagant costume remarked.
This man was none other than Kazama Ruri, the Dragon Lord of the Ghost Clan, who had previously targeted Commissioner Cassel.
The captain didn't dare respond and lowered his head respectfully.
"How boring," Kazama Ruri muttered, a bit disappointed by the silence.
Just then, the sea below, hidden by the dark clouds, suddenly lit up like it was on fire. The horizon between the sea and sky was especially bright, almost like sunlight shining on the water.
It was as though a palace had risen from the ocean, its delicate pavilions and bright lights even more magnificent than a mirage.
"Dragon Lord, that's the Sumeru Platform of the Yamata no Orochi," the captain pointed at the dazzling palace-like structure. "The submersible equipment you requested is stored there, along with all the necessary support personnel. Everything is ready."
"Then let's go. It's time to visit our ancestors."
Kazama Ruri closed his paper umbrella, his eyelashes lowering, a faint glow in his eyes.
A crane moved over, lowering the suspension bridge. Kazama Ruri stepped onto the elevator, heading towards a floating platform at sea, named after the Buddhist "Mount Sumeru," designed to withstand winds of up to level twelve.
As soon as heset foot on the platform, he saw blood spread across the ground, mixing with the sea breeze, unable to erase the heavy stench of blood.
"Dragon Lord!"
Two rows of people, dressed in black suits, stood on the swaying platform. They were as steady as if their feet were rooted to the ground.
One person stepped forward, taking small, careful steps, then bent at a ninety-degree angle to bow: "Dragon Lord, Mount Sumeru has been taken, and the submersible 'Trieste' is ready for departure!"
"I don't like dirty places," Kazama Ruri said, frowning slightly, covering his nose with one hand, a hint of disgust in his eyes. "Next time, make sure it's clean, understood?"
The leader immediately lowered his head in fear and said loudly, "Yes! My apologies, Dragon Lord!"
"Forget it," Kazama Ruri said, still frowning. He waved his hand in front of his face to fan away the smell. "How long until Yamata no Orochi notices?"
"The latest in two hours, at the earliest an hour and a half," the leader replied.
"So we have an hour?"
Kazama Ruri covered his face with the paper fan, smiling lightly. "That's enough. Prepare to dive."
"Yes!"
The preparations were quickly completed. After a final check, Long Ma Cheng boarded the Trieste.
It was somewhat ironic. The Trieste was sponsored by Pompeii Gattuso, the head of the European Hybrid family, the Gattuso family, to assist the Tokyo trio in the exploration of the Lenin. But in the end, it had fallen into the hands of Oni Clan.
"Are you ready?"
Kazama Ruri stood by the railing of the floating platform, watching the submersible slowly being lowered by the crane. He said softly, "Do you have any last words? I'll try to fulfill them."
In the narrow and enclosed cockpit, Long Ma Cheng, dressed in a waterproof combat suit, was silent for a moment before shaking his head. "No, Dragon Lord."
"Good. Dive now."
Kazama Ruri's eyes showed no emotion as he spoke indifferently.
"No, I have one last question."
After hesitating for a moment, Long Ma Cheng gritted his teeth and asked, "Dragon Lord, after tonight, will Yamata no Orochi disappear completely?"
"Yes."
Kazama Ruri gently waved his paper fan as he spoke.
"That's good... that's good."
In Long Ma Cheng's eyes, a brutal golden light shone, filled with hatred as strong as a physical force. "As long as I can destroy Yamata no Orochi, I'll do anything!"
For the past thirty-four years, due to the instability of his bloodline, he had been treated like livestock by Yamata no Orochi. Every month, he had to undergo psychological tests, blood draws, and other humiliating procedures to ensure he wouldn't "fall," and this treatment would continue until he was forty.
He had done nothing wrong. Just because his bloodline was naturally unstable, he was confined like an animal, tortured day after day with degrading tests that harmed both his mind and body.
There were no family, no friends, and certainly no love. Who would want to live like that?
That's right, no one would want to end their life like this!
So, Oni Clan were born!
To fight against Yamata no Orochi, to destroy those who looked down from on high—even if it meant trampling on the world's order, they would stop at nothing!
"Go, seek revenge on Yamata no Orochi who created the order from their high places," Kazama Ruri's voice echoed like a demon, fueling the malice in Long Ma Cheng's heart. He fiercely pulled the lever.
The Trieste submarine began its descent.
500 meters.
1000 meters.
2000 meters.
3000 meters.
Below the deep sea, all was pitch black.
The Trieste submarine finally reached the extreme depths, 8,000 meters underwater, after enduring intense impacts.
The powerful searchlights lit up, and what Sakurai Akira saw was a massive dark tower standing near a burning underwater fissure. The tidal waves of magma surged nearby, reflecting off the tower, making it appear as grand as a god, yet as lonely as one too.
After crossing a deep underwater ridge, an ancient city unfolded below like a scroll. The city was centered around the tower, next to a river of lava that had endured for millions of years.
Half of the ancient city was destroyed by volcanic lava flows, while the other half was reduced to crumbled ruins. Only the central, blackened tower, solid like iron, stood stubbornly through the years, symbolizing the city's former glory.
"This is it..." Sakurai Akira muttered, overwhelmed by the ancient and mighty aura, his eyes wide in shock.
"This is where the Yamata no Orochi originated, the Lenin," Kazama Ruri on the floating platform said, his voice soft and complex as he looked through the monitor. "Or perhaps it could be called 'Takamagahara,' the burial ground of that 'god,' the legendary Izanami."
Sakurai Akira steered the Trieste further into the ruins, where a torii-shaped structure appeared.
Next to the broken torii was the wreckage of a colossal object wrapped in millions of lung snail shells. In some areas not yet covered, structures resembling tendons and fascia, tightly intertwined like blood vessels, could be seen. It was barely recognizable, but it was a sunken ship.
That was his goal: the Lenin!
"For the... Oni Clan!"
"For freedom!"
Sakurai Akira shouted fiercely, his face twisted with rage. He drove the Trieste with brutal force, crashing straight into the wreck of the Lenin!
Boom!!!
With a deafening explosion, the Trieste detonated at the bottom of the sea.
A massive tremor caused the lung snails to detach from the ship's hull, and the "embryo" aboard the Lenin ship released thick, black blood plasma in the impact.
The plasma cascaded like a waterfall, flooding the ruins where dragons were buried.
That was dragon's blood!
The ancient city, nourished by dragon's blood, seemed to tremble as if coming back to life.
On the floating platform, Kazama Ruri looked at the sonar readings, where red dots appeared one after another, pulsing like a heartbeat. Slowly, he withdrew his gaze and calmly said, "That's enough, let's retreat. The next problem will be for the Yamata no Orochi to deal with."
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