Dragon Raja 4; Chapter 49: Journey to the End of the World (49)

Dragon Raja 4

“My dear sister, did you really think I’ve used up all my cards?” Odin stood tall in the cold wind, flames of light swirling around him, melting the falling snow.

“Go for it!” Chu Zihang felt a hand pat his shoulder. “He’s bluffing! If he were really as strong as he looks, he wouldn’t be bargaining with you!”

Jörmungandr had relinquished control of her body to him, yet he could still hear the seductive and icy laughter of the crowned princess.

Odin could hear it too. He raised his spear, pointing it at Chu Zihang. “Come, Jörmungandr! Let us battle! Let the bones of the dead become the steps for the living!”

Chu Zihang swung his blades, dancing as hellfire blazed from them. The fire element gathered into a storm within his domain, and each strike was delivered with precision, like a master calligrapher crafting the most perfect piece of his life. His dual blades shone brighter and faster, suddenly transforming into massive wheels of wind and fire. With those wheels spinning, Chu Zihang charged forward, wings of blazing light behind him, and from the flames emerged the image of a colossal serpent of the mortal world.

Odin raised his spear to the sky, and a massive thunderball formed at its tip, lighting the ice field in a stark white glow.

But at that moment, both men felt an overwhelming pressure descend from above! Chu Zihang abruptly halted his charge, and Odin lowered his gleaming spear. For both of them, this was a huge risk—at their level, a single moment could determine life or death in their battle. Yet, they were both shaken by this pressure, realizing that something terrible was about to happen—or rather, was already happening. The force was so solid, it felt as if a giant hammer had struck deep into their minds. Even as Dragon Kings, they were powerless to resist the fear it invoked.

Chu Zihang slowly lifted his head, while Odin turned around. The dying beast in the incubation pool was writhing in agony. The scales from the back of its head to the center of its body had all peeled off, and something beneath its hard skin and bones was twisting, ready to break free at any moment.

“We were careless!” Odin murmured. “It has a second form!”

“Alert! Alert! Alert! Unidentified flying object approaching! Unidentified flying object approaching! Unidentified flying object approaching!”

EVA’s voice echoed throughout the cockpit and cargo hold of the heavy transport plane, and the warning lights flashed blood-red.

“Are we under attack?” Finger looked out the window. “Even when the eldest son of the Gattuso family is personally flying this plane, your family didn’t arrange a fighter squadron to escort you?”

Caesar gripped the control stick tightly as all four engines output maximum power, the transport plane banking sharply to escape the Arctic. They had been circling near the North Pole, trying to locate the lost icebreaker, but below them was nothing but an endless frozen sea. Some powerful information black hole was blocking them from the area—even if the incident was right ahead, the pilots would instinctively veer off course, thinking they were still on track. But just minutes ago, their intermittent communication with EVA suddenly cleared up, and EVA flooded their screens with data. Only then did they realize where the true North Pole was, and that location was spewing a powerful particle stream into space. The particles rubbed against the atmosphere, creating an electromagnetic storm. From the satellite feed, it looked like a fountain of particles shooting tens of kilometers into the sky from the North Pole.

Just as Caesar prepared to turn the plane toward the site, EVA sent the highest-level evasion alert.

The four coaxial rotors spun madly, roaring as they fled almost 50 kilometers in five minutes. It was only then that Finger saw the flash of missiles. They came from different directions, tracing bright arcs as they descended from high altitude, like gods hurling meteors at the world. But the missiles weren’t targeting them—they were headed for the North Pole. Launched from bases across the globe, they crossed continents and oceans to arrive one after another.

One by one, they exploded, their blinding light illuminating the polar night. Pillars of ash shot straight into the sky.

There was no doubt—the situation at the North Pole was worsening. The people pulling the strings had decided to wipe everything out, even if it meant polluting the entire Arctic Ocean.

Without looking back, Caesar continued to fly the transport plane at high speed, as the screen showed that the most terrifying thing had yet to drop.

Next to it was a label in Russian: Царь Бомба, or “Tsar Bomba” in English.

In the family of bombs, the Tsar Bomba was undoubtedly the most powerful. Only one had ever been made in human history—a 50-megaton hydrogen bomb. When they tested it on Novaya Zemlya, the explosion pushed the Eurasian tectonic plate nine centimeters south, and the shockwave circled the Earth three times. That nuclear test made humanity realize its own power to destroy itself, which led to later nuclear disarmament. No more Tsar Bombas were made, and only one backup was left for research purposes.

But now, someone had brought this superweapon out of the arsenal, and it wasn’t launched from Russian soil.

Their fear of whatever was at the North Pole was so deep that they didn’t think the series of intercontinental missiles was enough to destroy it. So, they called upon the “Tsar.”

Moments later, it was as if a second sun had risen behind them. The explosion of the Tsar Bomba was silent and solemn, so far away that the sound didn’t reach them at first.

Millions of tons of seawater vaporized instantly, the white ash pillar shimmering with a dragon-scale-like glow. The shockwave’s wind blades sliced through the ice sheet and sea, turning millennia-old ice shelves to dust in seconds.

Caesar glanced at his sports watch—a gift from Chu Zihang on his birthday last year.

“From this moment on, humanity’s history has been reset,” he said softly.

Meanwhile, Lu Mingfei was rowing a boat in the Bering Sea, accompanied by a group of muscle-bound men shouting a rowing chant.

According to EVA’s plan, Lu Mingfei should have already met up with Caesar, but their transport plane was attacked by a swarm of drones mid-flight, forcing them to abandon ship and jump into the sea with the lifeboat.

The transport mission was handled by a few guys from the school’s logistics department. Back in the day, they bonded over chopping scallions and slicing radishes, and later formed a friendship over card games. Now, rowing the boat together made them feel like a united team. Fortunately, when they fell into the water, they still had a satellite phone. According to the navigation, they were only 45 nautical miles from St. Lawrence Island, where there was supposedly an Inuit village.

It was 3 p.m., and the sun had already set. The vast sea stretched endlessly around them, with cold mist drifting in the distance.

The satellite signal was poor, and Lu Mingfei was using a long oar as a rudder while constantly slapping the phone, trying to re-establish contact with EVA. While on the transport plane, EVA had already sent him a mission summary. He knew that Chu Zihang had gone missing in the Arctic Circle and was aware of the attacks happening around the world. His heart was filled with anxiety, but there was nothing he could do except hope that Caesar—who always had a private jet on standby—would arrive in time to support Chu Zihang. Ironically, fate seemed to toy with him: when he used to beg to avoid the battlefield, they’d send him straight to face dragons. But now that he was in a rush to back up his friend, he was stuck halfway. EVA couldn’t be reached, and no rescue had come. The vast ocean had completely isolated him from the outside world.

Maybe the world didn’t actually need him. If he hadn’t traded his life with the little devil in previous encounters, there would’ve been a Zhang Mingfei or a Li Mingfei to step up and save the world.

EVA was out of reach, but a portable radio held by one of the crewmen crackled to life: “St. Lawrence Tsunami Warning Station… Arctic Ocean… massive tidal surge… five minutes away… Gulf of Alaska… take refuge on higher ground… higher ground…”

Everyone on the lifeboat froze, except for Lu Mingfei. They were all experienced sailors and knew that the lighthouse on St. Lawrence Island had just activated its emergency radio system, broadcasting the warning to all nearby residents on all frequencies. But the warning didn’t make sense. They were still outside the Arctic Circle, and any surge from the Arctic Ocean would have to pass through the Chukchi Sea and the narrow Bering Strait, which would sap much of the surge’s energy. Besides, what kind of surge could possibly come from the Arctic Ocean?

But in the next moment, the sea trembled. On the horizon to the north, a thick black line appeared, sometimes as dark as ink, other times reflecting a silver light.

The crewmen dropped their oars and slowly stood up. One of them, in a panic, tried to jump into the sea but was pulled back by the others. There was no doubt—the tidal surge was real, and it was approaching fast. Within seconds, they could see the towering wall of water clearly. No waves splashed, no thunderous roar echoed; the sea had simply risen hundreds of meters out of nowhere, and that colossal wall of water was moving swiftly forward. It was a scene straight out of a sci-fi or mythological film, defying the laws of nature—yet here it was, right in front of them.

Jumping into the sea was pointless. On this vast ocean, there was nowhere to run. Even a giant whale caught in that wall of water would meet a swift end.

“Am I about to die? I remember you once said you’d definitely come to my funeral,” Lu Mingfei said softly.

He turned around, and a boy in a black suit with a white bow tie had just opened a bottle of fine champagne.