Chapter 162: Trip to the Royal Fist Temple
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Under the cover of night, Akame made her way back to the imperial capital.
She arrived at the hotel with practiced familiarity and knocked on the door.
Creak.
The door opened, and Kurome, surprised to see who was standing outside, exclaimed, "Sister?"
"Kurome."
Akame's expression softened. After entering the room and closing the door behind her, she glanced around. "Where's Aoki?"
Instead of answering directly, Kurome asked, "Sister, did the Night Raid agree to Aoki's deal?"
Akame nodded. "Yes, and our boss wants to invite you and Aoki to visit the base."
"Alright! I'd love to see where my sister lives," Kurome replied excitedly, having fully set aside the feud between the Empire and the Revolutionary Army.
"Aoki's out at the moment. He might not be back for a while."
"Out?"
Akame's expression shifted slightly as a thought struck her. "Don't tell me he's gone to the palace again…"
Kurome shook her head quickly. "No, no, Aoki didn't go to the palace this time."
Akame breathed a sigh of relief.
Kurome then added, "Aoki went to the Royal Fist Temple today."
"The Royal Fist Temple? What's Aoki doing there?"
Akame blinked, confused. The Royal Fist Temple wasn't much safer than the palace. After all, while the palace was full of ordinary people, the Royal Fist Temple was home to powerful martial artists.
Kurome replied sincerely, "This concerns one of Aoki's secrets, and I can't share it with you, Sister."
Akame seemed to mull this over and decided not to press the issue further.
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Under the dark sky, Aoki hovered in the air, his bat-like wings flapping gently as he looked down at the enormous complex below him.
The Royal Fist Temple.
Despite its name, it was more of a luxurious palace. While it wasn't as grand as the imperial palace, it was still one of the most impressive buildings in the capital, a testament to its immense wealth and influence.
"Well then, let's get started," Aoki muttered before vanishing in an instant.
...
Inside the grand hall, tall statues lined both sides of the room. A dignified middle-aged man with a square face stood with his hands clasped behind his back, exuding authority.
Kneeling in front of him were eight people—six men and two women. Although their appearances and heights varied, they all radiated a formidable aura.
"You eight are the best students of this generation!" the dignified man began slowly.
"You've likely heard by now that the Four Rakshasa Demons are dead—killed by a single person in an incredibly short time! This is a great disgrace, not just to us but to the entire Royal Fist Temple! Even the ministers have sent word of their disappointment."
The eight students remained silent, kneeling on one knee.
After a brief pause, the man continued, "As the top students of your generation, you will now take on the roles of the Four Rakshasa Demons and report directly to the minister! Additionally, you bear the responsibility of restoring the honor of the Royal Fist Temple. Can you do it?"
The man on the far left raised his head, revealing a face twisted with malice. "Rest assured, Master. We are not like those failures—the Four Rakshasa Demons. They believed that eating dangerous seeds and gaining some control over their bodies made them unstoppable, but they forgot the true foundation of our temple: boxing. We will restore the honor of the Royal Fist Temple and make sure everyone remembers its power!"
"Heh, I've been waiting for this day for a long time!" another student chimed in, chuckling darkly.
The woman next to him grinned, revealing a mouth full of sharp teeth, like a bloodthirsty shark.
The others' eyes gleamed with desire and impatience. Following the minister was the dream of every student at the Royal Fist Temple.
Who didn't know by now that the minister was the most powerful person in the empire? As long as they could follow him, wealth, power, fame, women—everything would be within their grasp.
Many envied the Four Rakshasa Demons, especially this group. As the most outstanding students of their generation, they never believed they were any less capable than the Four Rakshasa Demons. It was only because those four had seized their opportunity first that they'd been able to hold them down for so long.
"Perhaps we should thank that assassin!" The evil man's eyes shone with cruelty. "When the time comes, I'll twist off his head and let him die quickly."
The dignified middle-aged man's face darkened. "If you ever encounter that assassin again, kill him immediately!"
"Yes!" the eight students responded in unison.
Even though they knew the assassin had killed the Four Rakshasa Demons, they remained confident. They were different from the Four Demons. They specialized in combined attacks and using numbers to overwhelm their opponents.
But after a long silence, the eight students looked up, confused by the lack of response.
What they saw made their faces pale, and they all retreated instinctively. The dignified middle-aged man's eyes had rolled back, a strange whip protruding from his forehead.
Having put some distance between them, the students felt a slight relief. However, when they turned their eyes to the figure who had killed their teacher, shock spread across their faces.
"Ryan? Why is it you?"
"I'm not Ryan" Aoki casually tossed the middle-aged man's body into another dimension. As his body shifted and transformed, he revealed his true form—a pale young man with cat-like, plum-red pupils. His gaze swept over the eight of them.
"Weren't you just talking about me?"
"It's him!" The eight exclaimed in unison.
As the successors to the Four Rakshasa Demons, they were very familiar with the man who had broken into the palace that fateful night. They had even studied a detailed portrait of him.
To meet him before officially taking their positions was unexpected, but to the evil man, it was a stroke of luck. "Perfect!" he grinned, his eyes filled with aggression. "I'll use your corpse as an offering to the minister!"
Aoki smirked. "You're quite skilled at dreaming."
None of the eight backed down. The evil man's words had ignited their excitement. With their mentor dead, they'd lost their foothold at the Royal Fist Temple and would have to depend more heavily on the ministers. This was their chance. If they could kill the assassin, they would instantly earn the trust and favor of the minister.
"Formation!" the evil man barked, and the eight students swiftly surrounded Aoki.
"Formation?" Aoki raised an eyebrow, watching them as eight whips unfurled from his back.
Bang!
Before any of them could react, they were all sent flying, their bodies torn apart with ghastly wounds across their chests and faces, nearly splitting them in two.
Aoki looked down at them, shaking his head in disappointment. "This is your formation? Pathetic. Honestly, your skills don't even come close to the Four Rakshasa Demons."
Though both groups were killed in an instant, there was a difference between them. While the element of surprise had played a part in his defeat of the Four Demons, even if these eight had tried again, the outcome would've been the same.
The eight students coughed up blood simultaneously, their expressions clouded with a mix of fury and pain.
Aoki didn't let them stew in their anger for long. He swung his whip again, piercing their foreheads with a soft thud.
A small trickle of blood flowed, temporarily preserving their lives.
Then, Aoki casually threw their bodies into another dimension.
"It's about time to head back," he said, satisfied with his night's work.
Today's haul had been quite fruitful, especially with the surprise addition of nine bodies at the end.
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T/N: There is a patreon for this work, and any new work I add will be dropped there first. check it out for an early access of 40 chapters.
Patreon link:- patreon.com/ANelite
And also:
Imperial weapon = Teigu
Teigu = Imperial weapon