Dragon Raja 4; Chapter 98: Gate of the Nibelungen (2)

Dragon Raja 4

Lu Mingfei returned to the passenger seat. Nono glanced at him, “What were you doing outside?”

“Just checking out the surroundings. We’ve got a tough fight ahead.” Lu Mingfei pretended to reach for the back seat, pulled out the bag, and handed Nono the Scorpion submachine gun.

“Did you have that bag with you when we left? I remember you were empty-handed,” Nono expertly checked the gun. “Bringing weapons for a midnight snack? Planning to rob the place?”

Lu Mingfei didn’t answer because there was no way to lie about it. Instead, he took out a Desert Eagle, some Tigerfang rounds, and a box of armor-piercing bullets from the bag.

Luckily, Nono wasn’t focused on the bag. “Did we pass through that gate? I didn’t feel anything. Is it really that casual to enter Nibelungen?”

“Senior brother said he met Odin on a highway marked with zero, but there’s no such highway in the real world.” Lu Mingfei pointed at the sign ahead. “That’s the entrance to Highway Zero. We’re standing at the threshold of Nibelungen. Want to go in and check it out?”

“We’re already at the gate, might as well burn some incense.” Nono said, “You drive. I need to prepare for profiling.”

“You can focus on profiling at a time like this? We’re on the doorstep of death.”

“We’re retracing Chu Zihang’s steps from that night. This is my chance to dig up something about him from your memory.”

Rain lashed the car windows like a whip, and Lu Mingfei couldn’t even see the road ahead. He had to focus intently on the red taillights in front of them.

He recounted in as much detail as possible what happened to Chu Zihang that night. Nono closed her eyes, trying to immerse herself in that rainy night years ago, seeking the truth.

The night, the storm, the luxury cars racing, the ghostly pursuers, father and son, a man on horseback…

“I sense a boy in the back seat,” Nono whispered. “The driver is a man… but his presence feels vague to me.”

“There’s music in the car… a duet… their voices sound like the wind…”

“Something dangerous is following that car. They’re looking at the boy through the windows, but the boy doesn’t know…”

Lu Mingfei also felt himself slowly being enveloped by the dark story. The cold and damp from outside seemed to be seeping into the car. When Chu Zihang had told him this story years ago, he was half-skeptical. Even if the Norse gods truly existed in this world, why would their noble chief god leave Scandinavia and come to China? The subtle dissonance was like encountering Erlang Shen on a rainy night in London, or Shiva descending on the Kremlin. He never expected that one day, he would also step into this mysterious space. The endless storm reminded him of what the little devil had called the “torrent of fate.”

Suddenly, Nono grabbed the handle above her head, and almost simultaneously, Lu Mingfei slammed on the brakes. The Ferrari skidded and came to a screeching halt, leaving four trails of tire smoke on the road.

The road ahead suddenly steepened, like a black dragon preparing to soar into the sky. Rainwater rushed down the steep slope like a raging waterfall. No vehicle could climb such a steep road; it seemed to lead straight up to the heavens. In the distance, the Maybach had stopped, its hazard lights flashing faintly through the rain, like a weak firefly.

Nono pulled out a hair tie and tied her dark red hair into a ponytail. “On that rainy night, this is where they encountered something.”

Lu Mingfei nodded and unfastened the strap on his sheath, letting the Tigerfang slide into his palm.

The two stepped out of the Ferrari. Lu Mingfei walked to the edge of the overpass and gazed into the distance. It was at that moment that he truly understood the terror of Nibelungen. Endless night, endless rain, an insurmountable slope. When he looked down, it seemed like a bottomless abyss. The steel and concrete pillars looked like rows of giant ribs supporting a road that seemed to float in the sky. It wasn’t a maze like the Beijing subway, but a true dead-end road. Nono, meanwhile, quietly approached the Maybach. Suddenly, she kicked open the slightly ajar car door and aimed her gun at the driver’s seat.

The Maybach was empty. Inside and out, everything was covered in black mud, thick like ink, and even the torrential rain couldn’t wash it away. The car’s body was covered in scratches, and the leather seats had been slashed open in countless places.

Yet, the hood was still warm, as if the engine had just been turned off. Inside the car, a song was playing—a duet, accompanied by bagpipes.

Lu Mingfei walked over to the car and immediately checked the doors. Hidden compartments were embedded in the doors, and where an umbrella should have been stored, there was a katana. The compartment on the other side, however, was empty. Chu Zihang had once told him that both front doors of this car had hidden compartments, each containing a Japanese long sword named Murasame and Murasame. Chu Zihang’s father had drawn Murasame to fight Odin, and Murasame had been taken by Chu Zihang out of Nibelungen. It was his weapon and a precious keepsake. Chu Zihang had asked Gen Chisei to help gather information on the two swords, hoping to uncover his father’s true identity through them. But Gen Chisei died before he could uncover anything. Crow said it wasn’t that Gen Chisei hadn’t tried, but that true dragon-slaying blades were either collected by families or recorded in a book called The Great Sword Encyclopedia. However, there was no record of Murasame in that book.

There were many historical swords named Murasame, but none were alchemical weapons. The Great Sword Encyclopedia would never bother recording them.

Lu Mingfei slowly drew the sword, and the blade gleamed like silver. The curve of the blade was beautiful yet deadly, and the twisted pattern on the edge looked like lightning. In ancient times, this pattern was called “Inazuma.”

It was indeed Chu Zihang’s former sword, Murasame. In Lu Mingfei’s memory, this sword had been destroyed by Jörmungandr… His head began to ache again. Memory modification could explain many things, but how could a destroyed sword be restored? Nono dipped her fingertip into the black mud on the seat and brought it to her nose. The mud smelled both metallic and sweet, reminiscent of blood.

“The story starts the same as you said, but the ending is different,” she whispered. “The car was abandoned here, and Murasame wasn’t taken. So how did Chu Zihang escape this Nibelungen?”

Lu Mingfei shuddered involuntarily. He remembered the funeral Lu Mingze had taken him to, where a fifteen-year-old boy lay in the coffin.

Suddenly, a “caw-caw” sound echoed from above. The two looked up to see a black raven flying overhead.

Ravens were common in the real world, but their presence in Nibelungen was unimaginable. Nibelungen meant “the land of the dead,” and seeing a living creature here was nearly impossible.

Click, click, click. The streetlights began to turn on, one by one, section by section, illuminating this road that seemed to hover in endless void.

It was a divine path that led to the heavens, and at the highest point of this path stood a shadowy figure on horseback, holding a curved spear. The figure slowly swung the spear in a circle around himself, and the path traced by the spear ignited in flames. He stood in the fiery circle, his head slightly bowed, emanating both solitude and authority. His appearance combined the characteristics of both a god and a skeleton—his armor was mottled, his cloak tattered, and a mask resembling withered wood covered his face. From the eye and mouth holes of the mask, lava-like light poured out. The glowing flames evaporated the heavy rain into mist, and he stood amidst the tide-like fog, looking down upon Lu Mingfei and Nono, while the two ravens on his shoulders whispered in his ears like fawning ministers.

Nono and Lu Mingfei exchanged a glance; the figure’s entire presence screamed the name of Odin. In Norse mythology, the revered chief god rode the eight-legged steed Sleipnir, wielding the spear Gungnir. At his feet always lay the ravenous wolves Geri and Freki, and on his shoulders perched two ravens, Huginn and Muninn, representing thought and memory. Though he was supposed to shine across the Nine Realms, it was not surprising that he carried the aura of decay and rot, as he also served as the god of death.

Lu Mingze silently appeared behind Lu Mingfei, his expression unusually solemn, without his usual chatter.

Lu Mingfei relaxed a little. Wherever the devil appeared, it was his domain. Though he didn’t plan on trading the last quarter of his life, having the devil around was like carrying a nuclear grenade capable of leveling half the world—he didn’t dare use it, but its mere presence gave him confidence. If worse came to worst, he could still take Odin down with him.

The raven on Odin’s left shoulder suddenly took flight, gliding down to Lu Mingfei and Nono, and began speaking in a human voice: “You’re finally awake! You’ve finally arrived! Caw, caw! You’re finally awake! You’ve finally arrived!”

After hearing it squawk for a while, Nono adjusted the strap of her Scorpion submachine gun, the barrel poking out from under her arm, aimed at the raven’s head.

“You’re finally awake! You’ve finally arrived! Caw, caw!” The raven kept repeating itself like a broken recorder.

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