Dragon Raja 4; Chapter 109: Odin’s Shadow (6)

Dragon Raja 4

One crow dove at Nono, cawing joyfully as it reached out with its talons to snatch her baseball cap. But it underestimated its prey. Nono, her expression icy, grabbed a broom from a nearby street cleaner and swung it, sending the crow flying. Lu Mingfei hurried over, pulling Tiger Tooth from his sleeve and slashing the bird’s throat in one swift motion. Only when the warm blood splattered onto his hand did he realize that these crows were just ordinary birds, unlike the ones on the highway with their metal bones and feathers that could withstand bullets.

The Nibelungen hadn’t yet fully encroached upon this place. The boundaries between reality and the virtual space were blending in ways Lu Mingfei couldn’t explain. For now, the crows were still bound by the laws of the real world.

Nono stared at him, shocked, as if he had just killed a scout from the enemy army, his face fierce and determined.

Lu Mingfei glanced back toward the sea. The specters in the fog had started attacking Lu Mingze’s barrier, colliding with it in groups. As soon as they touched the barrier, they dissolved back into the mist. But Lu Mingze was no longer able to leisurely sip his champagne. With a wave of his hand, massive gray warriors wielding lances rose from the concrete tetrapods and charged into the sea, engaging the spectral figures in battle. When they fell, they disintegrated into gray dust.

The alchemical “creation of life” was in full display on the boundary between reality and fantasy. Both Odin and the little devil were deploying their divine-like powers, locked in a grueling battle of attrition. The professors at Cassell College always sought to explain the supernatural through scientific means, but the ultimate Yanling and alchemy both defied such explanations and were classified as “divine arts.” Perhaps, as Lu Mingze had said, not even science or human language could fully describe these phenomena. Once something transcends the limits of language, it can only be understood, not explained.

The wind tore the floating platform away from the shore, and just before the last two chains snapped, Finger leaped ashore with a beer in one hand and a plate of cold dishes in the other. The people fleeing the platform were terrified, and a sense of dread spread silently through the crowd. The lagoon churned with waves, the platform drifting toward the center before breaking apart. Had anyone remained on it, the results would have been catastrophic. People on the sandbar hurried to escape the rain, while the nearby fishing village became packed with people seeking shelter under the eaves of houses. Private cars clogged the village’s narrow roads, and the sound of honking filled the air.

“Hurry, let’s find some shelter!” Lu Mingfei grabbed his weapons pack from Finger.

Back when the Dragon King Constantine awoke at the college, Finger mentioned that Constantine could control fire elements, and large bodies of water could block his perception. So, he dragged Lu Mingfei to the swimming pool to hide. It sounded absurd, but it fit the principles of alchemy, much like how a properly shaped metal shell could create an electromagnetic barrier. Now, the little devil hinted that they needed a place to block both light and water, suggesting that these elements might be mediums through which the Nibelungen infiltrated reality. The Nibelungen in the Beijing subway was also filled with water as a medium—its floors and tunnel walls constantly damp.

They had arrived in a Ferrari, but with the roads blocked, it was useless. Looking around, every shelter was already packed with people—temporary structures and village homes alike. Lu Mingfei’s gaze turned to the distance, where a modern, alien-looking building stood on the rocky beach. Its jagged steel frame made it look eerie, almost like a cathedral or a vampire’s castle, but it was actually a library. An internationally renowned architect had built it as a landmark, its design deliberately contrasting with the surrounding environment, making it a popular spot for internet influencers to take photos.

Lu Mingfei grabbed Nono by the wrist and sprinted toward the rocky beach. Nono considered pulling away but, seeing his panicked expression, uncharacteristically chose to comply.

When they arrived at the library, a crowd had already gathered outside, negotiating with the doorman to let them in for shelter. Without thinking, Lu Mingfei pulled out a wad of cash and handed it to the doorman. Having just returned from abroad, he hadn’t yet set up any payment apps, so his uncle had given him this stack of cash.

After years, and in another timeline, that man had become quite distinguished, yet he still carried around a stack of bills out of habit. The doorman warned them not to touch anything inside and opened the door. Lu Mingfei urged the doorman to join them inside before locking the door.

The architect’s ingenuity was even more evident from inside the library. It was almost entirely built from steel and glass, with even the floor made of glass. Beneath the floor, the library stored bound volumes of the city’s newspapers, symbolizing that visitors were standing atop the city’s history while looking toward the future. It was a good metaphor, but Lu Mingfei’s temples throbbed, and the vastness of time and space left him feeling anxious and lost.

Through the gaps in the steel frame, he could see the scene outside: the sea fog rolling over the sandbar, the tourists retreating, and Lu Mingze still battling the endless waves between sea and sky. That familiar highway shimmered in the fog, looking like a mirage ready to collapse at any moment. No one else could see it—all the other visitors wandering through the spacious library were merely admiring the architecture. Nono and Finger exchanged glances, not understanding why Lu Mingfei seemed so tense.

Lu Mingfei panted heavily. Two worlds were colliding and merging, and only he and Lu Mingze stood at the crack between them, like monsters. He had made a grave mistake in choosing this steel and glass structure as their hiding place. Though it was waterproof, it couldn’t block out the light, which went against Lu Mingze’s advice. Luckily, the library had darker corners, and since the crows were searching for Nono, she needed to hide. But how could he convince her to hide in a dark corner when, to her, they were simply caught in an unexpected rainstorm?

He desperately wanted to share his secret with Nono and Finger. Carrying it alone was too exhausting, too isolating, like the mythological Atlas bearing the weight of the world. But Lu Mingze’s warning was like an inscription etched into his mind: the secret of the world lines couldn’t be revealed, or it would cause irreparable chaos. In that chaos, one thing would remain unchanged—Nono’s death. Gungnir’s gaze would pierce through any world line.

Placing both hands on Nono’s shoulders, Lu Mingfei smiled wordlessly, then fell into a long silence. Finally, he spoke in a calm, gentle voice, “Senior Sister, please go to the library’s archives and find a place where no light can reach. Something is coming for you. I can’t tell you what it is, but can you just trust me… please?”

At any other time, Nono would have ignored such a baseless request, but seeing the dark, tired look in his eyes, she couldn’t bring herself to scold him.

She glanced outside at the storm, watching the leaden waves crash against the beach, and began to feel the oppressive atmosphere. There was something unnerving about this rain.

“I’ll check out the archives. Don’t make a scene,” Nono said, trying to grab the weapons bag from Lu Mingfei. But he held onto the strap tightly, shaking his head.

Nono could only see the wild waves breaching the concrete defenses and rushing over the sandbar. But in Lu Mingfei’s eyes, it was Lu Mingze’s small figure being swallowed by the waves. The gray knights he had summoned were exhausted, and for the final push, Lu Mingze had pulled a halberd-like weapon from thin air and charged toward the spectral warriors. But they didn’t fight him—they engulfed him, layer upon layer of shadow wrapping around him, dragging him into the sea as black water consumed him.

The little devil had kept his promise, fighting until the very end. Lu Mingfei didn’t believe that Lu Mingze would truly die at the hands of those specters, but as the shadows pulled him into the sea, the little devil turned and made a “shush” gesture toward Lu Mingfei’s group. At that moment, Lu Mingfei felt a lump in his throat. If the day ever came when even the devil had to leave him, would he choose to rush into the sea and fight alongside him?

One by one, the lights on the sandbar flickered out. To others, it seemed like the seawater had shorted the power, but to Lu Mingfei, it was a sign that a strange world was slowly approaching, accompanied by the neighing of a great steed.

He leaned back against the library’s door, gripping the strap of the weapons bag tightly, listening intently to the sounds outside. Now, it was just him—he had to face this world alone.

People who had come to the library to escape the rain wandered between the photo walls. In addition to the city’s newspaper archives, the library had many photo displays. Visitors could even hang their own photos in the corners. As Lu Mingfei’s gaze swept across the photos, it felt as if time silently flowed past. He saw the city’s old, unrenovated government building, muddy markets on the outskirts, and long streets lined with sycamore trees. He even saw the old, unrefurbished classrooms of Shilan Middle School, where the school’s brass band stood proudly under the national flag. Leading the band was a fifteen-year-old Liu Miaomiao, with her long hair and youthful face, dressed in a white lace dress and black patent leather shoes, holding a silver flute.

But in his memory, Liu Miaomiao had always been a piano prodigy. Had she changed in this world too?

Deep within the library were rows of bookshelves, holding every locally published book. Darkness shrouded this area, like a deep corridor.

Nono and Finger stood behind one of the shelves, peeking through the rows of books at Lu Mingfei, who had his back pressed against the door. The two exchanged glances—something was very wrong with him tonight. It was as if some malevolent force was chasing him, driving him to a dead end. Yet the scene before them was peaceful and serene. Some visitors admired the photo walls, others lingered by the bookshelves, and the chandelier’s branches softly illuminated the space. The doorman even brought bottles of lemon water for thirsty children.

“It’s like he’s possessed by something strange,” Finger murmured.

“If there’s anything strange in this city, isn’t it him?” Nono whispered. “It’s been years since there’s been an S-rank student, and he’s a wild one at that.”

After the Middle Ages, a family-based hierarchy gradually formed in the hybrid society, with elite hybrids almost always coming from prestigious families. Occasionally, hybrids of unknown lineage were discovered, but their bloodline levels were typically low. These hybrids were referred to as “wild types.” Even the prestigious Gattuso family only managed to produce an A-rank hybrid with Caesar, and that was after generations of bloodline optimization. Yet here was Lu Mingfei, with no family background, being evaluated as S-rank.

“Didn’t they say his parents were both S-rank hybrids? Dragons beget dragons, phoenixes beget phoenixes. How can he be considered a wild type?”