Dragon Raja 4; Chapter 31: Journey to the End of the World (31)

Dragon Raja 4

“Hera laughs! Hera laughs! Hera laughs!” Sasha shouted joyfully. “Orev! Is the bomb ready?”

He had thought that he and Chu Zihang would be in the most danger, maybe even becoming food for the serpents, but the battle had turned completely one-sided in their favor.

The crew had already escaped in the snowmobiles, but Orev and Seadog had stayed behind, drilling holes in the ice. They carried high-explosive charges capable of destroying the ice sheet. When Orev finished planting the explosives, it would be time for their retreat. Seadog, with rows of C4 explosives slung over his shoulder, was ready to throw them like grenades to keep the serpents at bay. Once Chu Zihang and Sasha withdrew from the ice field, Orev would detonate the explosives deep beneath the ice, burying the serpents in their frozen grave.

“Thirty seconds, Captain! Thirty seconds!” Orev signaled.

“Chu! Chu! Let’s go!” Sasha glanced at his remaining ammo—fewer than 120 rounds left.

But Chu Zihang didn’t turn back. He swung his twin blades wide and furiously, as if trying to single-handedly drive the serpents back into the ocean.

Even at his peak, Chu Zihang couldn’t rely on two blades alone to completely overpower these serpents. They were far more vicious than the serpentine Death Servitors he had encountered in Tokyo—they were true dragon subspecies. So, from the beginning, he had activated his Blood Rage technique, and directly at the second stage.

Fine scales had already formed on the surface of his skin, and his muscles stood out like iron rods. But he was no longer the man he once was. In the past, he had even regained his sanity from the “irreversible” third-stage Blood Rage. Now, his damaged body and mind could no longer withstand the massive backlash of the second stage. His brain was filled with violent roars, his heart consumed by a bloodthirsty impulse. He wanted to kill and devour just like the serpents, perfectly in tune with the primal theme of this evolutionary battlefield.

In his mind, this chaotic battle was long overdue. The serpents were like the shadows that had trapped him on the overpasses, and he wasn’t just carving out a bloody path—he was going to exterminate them all. His Niten Ichi-ryu swordsmanship might have been lacking in finesse, but the overwhelming desire for combat compensated for any technical shortcomings. He felt as if he were a soaring swallow, spinning in a whirlwind. Only blood could make him feel alive, whether it was his own or the enemy’s. He wouldn’t even realize he was severely injured. The serpents’ acidic blood and methane breath had burned him, and he was bleeding heavily internally, but he couldn’t even smell the blood he was coughing up.

Reginleifrev had said he was a born warrior, destined to fight to the death like the hero Cú Chulainn from Celtic mythology, madly battling until he had slain everything.

“He’s gone mad! He’s gone mad!” Orev stared in horror at the black figure lost in the bloodlust of battle.

Unlike Sasha, Orev had always felt a bit of unease toward Chu Zihang. This mysterious Chinese man, like the shamans of the far north, seemed to have a deep knowledge of the secret world. He appeared reserved and humble, the kind of person you’d want as a whale-watching companion. But in a certain sense, he was more like Reginleif, Olrune, and Hervor—one of those who sought the gateway to the divine kingdom. Orev suspected Chu Zihang was also searching for the gate of the gods, just representing a different organization.

Sasha also sensed something was wrong. The figure dashing through the serpents was moving beyond human limits, performing impossible, high-difficulty maneuvers with astonishing speed and coordination, ruthlessly cutting through anything in his path. In front of him, the serpents looked more like prey.

“Chu! Chu! Come back! Come back!” Sasha fired into the air, trying to snap Chu Zihang out of his battle frenzy.

Orev grabbed him. “Captain, let’s go… we should not return to the Yamal. We have snowmobiles, we have Seadog, and I brought the longwave radio and food. We can survive until the rescue ship arrives.”

Sasha was stunned. Maybe Orev’s suggestion was the real solution after all. Who cared about the Federal Security Bureau? Now that he thought about it, the Gate to the Divine Kingdom probably wasn’t a good thing. That parasitized, devilish ship, the passengers with their hidden agendas, the occult organizations, and Macallan with his bird-beaked mask—all of it was a twisted combination, like the chaotic world in a Van Gogh painting. Why had they gotten involved in this? Was it really just for the meager subsidies from the Federal Security Bureau? Chu Zihang’s fate wasn’t something Sasha could control. If it weren’t for this Chinese man’s insistence on uncovering the secret of the gate, Sasha and his crew might have fled before approaching the Hatchery, already drinking cheap beer happily in some northern port bar.

Slowly, he lowered the smoking barrel of his gun and watched as the Chinese man suddenly staggered, then thrust his sword into the ice and knelt down.

Chu Zihang’s vision was obscured by black blood. His bloodlust hadn’t entirely consumed his rationality yet, but he knew his lineage was starting to spiral out of control. The thing he had been suppressing for days could break free at any moment. He still had strength and could reignite his power, but if he continued, he would be beyond the point of no return on the path to corruption. As a warrior, his life should have ended long ago. He should have taken the college’s advice and gone back to become a teacher. But what had driven him to hide his condition? Why had he insisted on staying in the Execution Bureau, even if it meant being benched in Oslo? Was it because he wasn’t ready to give up? He didn’t want to admit his insignificance, nor did he want to see the plans he made with Lu Mingfei and Caesar vanish into thin air. He couldn’t bear to admit that the youthful belief in burning through one’s blood to destroy the world’s mad dragons was nothing more than a vain boast.

He faintly heard voices speaking. At times, it was Herzog, saying, “Now you’ve seen the truth of the world, haven’t you? The world is like this Hatchery, where everyone is part of this grotesque feast.” At other times, it was Odin’s followers, shouting about flesh and bloodline as they danced their mad dance around him. Then there was the middle-aged man who never stopped talking, silently standing behind Chu Zihang, gently stroking his head. His inner demons all came out, the confusion and fear that had accumulated in the deepest parts of his soul over the years. The reason he cared so much about Lu Mingfei was that deep down, he knew he harbored a terrifying loneliness. He had always been a lost child, not truly brave, merely propped up by his hatred to endure his exhaustion.

Finally, one of the serpents mustered the courage to bite down on Chu Zihang’s shoulder. As blood splattered, the other serpents excitedly flared their scales.

Was this how he would die? In this place? No one would come to save him. He was trapped in a black hole of information; his distress signals wouldn’t reach EVA, and his friend Sasha… he had seen Sasha lower his gun and watch from a distance.

At that moment, a vivid image jumped out of his mind—a girl whose face was obscured as she stood on a bridge. She squatted in front of him, holding an umbrella, and said in a curious voice, “You’re so strange. Are you really human? Don’t you think differently from us?” Raindrops from a southern spring shower trickled off her umbrella, landing on Chu Zihang’s head.

In that moment, the defenses Chu Zihang had steadfastly held onto crumbled. His determination and obsession no longer seemed important. A strong, inexplicable desire to survive surged within him—he wasn’t ready to end things like this.

With the girl’s cold laughter echoing in his mind, the pitch-black gates deep within his heart swung open. The third-degree Blood Rage! He released the long-restrained… Dragon King’s Heart.

He clenched his fist with one hand, punching through the neck of the serpent that had bitten him. Then, he pulled up Kumogiri, and the serpent’s massive head fell in the cold gleam of his blade.

The domain of the King’s Blaze expanded once more, as a whirlwind of snow formed into a massive white dragon. Chu Zihang swung his sword calmly, and the vast amounts of oxygen in the surrounding space were suddenly drawn toward him. A massive tornado was sliced apart by his blade, and in an instant, countless wind blades radiated outward from him. The high-temperature air currents viciously tore through the serpents’ bodies, carving crisscrossing patterns on the ice. He didn’t know what Yanling or technique this was; he only knew he possessed this power, wielding it as easily as using chopsticks.

The surviving serpents, their bodies broken, crawled across the ice field. The smell of burning flesh was overpowering. Chu Zihang gazed emotionlessly toward the distant North Pole, his pupils devoid of warmth.

---

On the helicopter deck of the Yamal, Macallan stood with his favorite drink in hand, gazing into the distance. Behind him, Vincent stood respectfully, holding a bottle of wine, playing the role of a personal servant. At this moment, the ship had become a sea of revelry. From the dining room to the bar to the deck, all the passengers were singing and dancing. Some kissed each other passionately, as if one’s teeth were beer bottles and the other’s teeth were bottle openers. Others were cheering and chugging bottles of liquor, and some were wielding fire axes, wreaking havoc. The entire ship had gone mad. Those unaware of the truth might think the apocalypse had arrived. Just moments earlier, red waters had appeared near the side of the Yamal, and Vincent’s men had already taken control of the ship’s PA system. With great fervor, Vincent announced that the Gate of the Divine Kingdom was just ahead, and that the passengers’ $20 million tickets would soon be worth every cent. These flawed hybrids would be completed, they would stand alongside the true Dragons, and they would become the gods of a new era.

Chu Zihang had once estimated that half the passengers on the ship held those special tickets, but in reality, over three-quarters of them did. These tickets could be passed down to one’s descendants, so even the unruly young ones might have a ticket in their pocket. As for the passengers who had mistakenly boarded the ship, some of them were seen as nuisances and were wiped out like ants. While one side of the bar was filled with wild singing and drinking, someone might be lying face down in a pool of their own blood on the other side. Some clueless passengers were trembling in their cabins, and no one bothered with them, as their lives held no importance to the ticket holders. A few beautiful female passengers, paralyzed by fear, ran barefoot, hiding here and there, but everywhere they went, they were met with golden eyes.

Yet, the true mastermind behind it all couldn’t care less. Macallan looked down on the revelers with an air of boredom, his entire presence exuding disdain.

He was far more interested in what was happening to the north than in the impending opening of the Gate of the Divine Kingdom. In fact, the Yamal wasn’t too far from Sasha and the others, only separated by a few glaciers. The dark northern sky seemed to light up briefly for a moment, and at that instant, Macallan silently raised his glass toward that direction.

“Welcome back, my dear sister. To your brilliance and unyielding will.”