Dragon Raja 4; Chapter 2: Journey to the End of the World (2)

Dragon Raja 4

As the remaining steam escaped into the night sky, the waiter leaped into the vent like a slippery fish.

“Good luck, Agent Chu Zihang…” EVA’s voice cut off as he slid deeper into the pipe.

Moments later, Chu Zihang emerged silently in the top deck corridor. Shortly after, the vent began its low rumble again, signaling the return of the heating system. His window of opportunity had been only a few minutes. Every hour, the steam system halted briefly to allow the pipe walls to cool and contract, a necessary process for the copper alloy to repair any fine cracks. Chu Zihang had used this time perfectly and, with the help of a map, had avoided getting lost in the maze-like pipes.

Over the years, Professor Schneider had praised Chu Zihang’s growing competence as an operative. A few years ago, he would’ve barged through the front door, sword in hand.

This time, his mission was to visit a mysterious woman. No one knew her real name or her family background, but in the 1930s, she was famous in European high society as “Maria of the Stars.” She was one of the founding members of the secretive organization “Far North,” a group renowned for its mysticism. The founders of Far North claimed to have found conclusive evidence in ancient texts of an unknown land within the Arctic Circle, where an ancient race called the Hyperboreans had established a civilization far more advanced than anything of the present day. The founders believed they were descendants of these Hyperboreans, born noble, and destined to return to Hyperborea to lead Earth’s civilization into a new era.

The leadership of the Third Reich took a keen interest in this theory, believing that their Aryan heritage made them inherently superior. Maria of the Stars became a favorite in the social circles, admired for her beauty, knowledge, and unwavering faith in the Hyperboreans. Some even said that if she had joined the SS, she might have been entrusted with leading an invasion of the British Isles. Even the Führer himself was captivated by her, meeting with her privately on numerous occasions to consult on matters of the occult. This earned her the nickname “The Imperial Saintess.” A few months before the war ended, Maria of the Stars left Berlin and went into hiding in Argentina. Thirteen years ago, this once-famous figure left Argentina and leased the YAMAL icebreaker from the Russian government, where she has sailed the icy seas ever since.

When Maria of the Stars boarded the ship, she was accompanied by more than 50 service personnel and armed guards, which was why EVA reminded him to carry a weapon. However, the corridor was eerily silent, with no one in sight, and the place looked like nothing more than a luxurious residence. On either side of the hallway were cabins, behind the doors were a gym, sauna, solarium, and even a small library. Every object used here was meticulously crafted. Paintings by Rembrandt, Titian, Rubens, and Van Gogh adorned the walls, each name shining brightly in the world of art.

Chu Zihang carefully pushed open the black double doors at the end of the corridor, and his vision suddenly widened. He realized he had arrived in Maria of the Stars’ bedroom. Despite having mentally prepared himself, he was still shocked by the sheer opulence of the room. The floor was made of burgundy marble, the wallpaper a vibrant peacock green, and the chandelier had crystal glass mixed with gold dust, giving the light a sun-like hue. Every color in the room was full of life, blending together to evoke thoughts of a tropical rainforest in bloom. Towering bookshelves were filled with classic philosophical works, confirming the rumor that this great medium was no mere charlatan tricking her followers, but a well-learned scholar.

On the desk was a vintage-style radio, occasionally emitting static noises, interspersed with voices:

“The meteorologist reports: The weather is gradually clearing. The storm will weaken to a breeze within two hours. The temperature is minus 35 degrees, and the sea ice has thickened to 60 centimeters!”

“The engine room reports: Power output is at 80%. Steam supply throughout the ship has been restored. Pressure in the No. 3 steam room has dropped below the warning line, and a shutdown for maintenance may be required.”

In this bedroom, a few dials were all it took to listen to all the communications on the ship. This was truly the master’s domain.

A book the owner had been reading lay open on the desk, though the owner was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps the elderly lady had gone to another part of this floor, or maybe, unable to bear the loneliness of Christmas Eve, she had gone incognito to the bar or restaurant below. Chu Zihang stared at the old-fashioned oil lamp on the desk and touched the lampshade. His brows furrowed slightly. The surface of the lampshade was still hot, indicating the lamp had been on just moments ago. The owner had hurriedly turned it off upon sensing his arrival, leaving in such a rush that they didn’t even have time to turn off the radio monitoring the ship’s communications.

At that moment, the lights in the bedroom went out, and a sharp, dangerous aura surged from behind him, like an invisible blade aimed at the back of his head.

In ancient China, people referred to such an aura as “killing intent,” a formless presence possessed only by those who had survived life-and-death trials.

Chu Zihang suddenly recalled EVA’s suggestion: the top cabins hid powerful figures. Perhaps he should have come armed.

He slowly turned his head, his gaze sweeping over the short sword on the desk. His body trembled slightly, and in the next moment, the sword appeared in his hand. Its blade gleamed like silver, and intricate star maps were carved into it.

He flicked the blade, and the short sword let out a long, resonant hum. The sword was of excellent quality, not just for show. His aura expanded, like a rolling tide. The opposing aura clashed with his, and if a third person were to step into the room now, they would likely feel there was no space left to stand.

Chu Zihang slowly raised the sword above his head. Though the short sword was only about two feet long, in his hands, it felt like a fearsome long blade, invoking the “Dragonfly Formation.” It was a move from the forbidden Samo Shikenryu technique known as “Cloud-Illuminating Great Sword,” which completely abandoned defense, focusing solely on speed and power to cut through the enemy, armor and all. After the lights went out, the only remaining light source was the round porthole, but there were no stars or moon outside. The room was illuminated only by faintly refracted light, and even with Chu Zihang’s keen eyesight, it was hard to make out the corners of the room.

The opponent clearly knew the layout of the bedroom, which is why they chose to cut the lights, but they didn’t launch a sudden attack. Chu Zihang’s breathing remained steady, and the sword raised above his head was unwavering like a rock.

Suddenly, Chu Zihang’s eyes flashed, and he swung the sword downward. He couldn’t see his opponent but heard the sound of the wind and caught a faint whiff of cedarwood.

The clash of two weapons sparked brightly, and in that brief flare of light, Chu Zihang caught a glimpse of a shadowy figure. However, the opponent moved swiftly, like a streak of ink darting past him.

The opponent wielded a long-handled weapon, but Chu Zihang’s strength gave him the advantage, and the weapon was knocked aside. Yet, the Cloud-Illuminating Great Sword still followed its wild trajectory. The opponent dropped to one knee and threw an upward punch, managing to block the ferocious blow.

Chu Zihang, having missed his strike, immediately retreated. This was the flaw of the Cloud-Illuminating Great Sword—it left no room for a second chance. If the first strike missed, balance could be easily lost.

The opponent did not press the attack, not out of mercy, but from fear. Even as Chu Zihang retreated, his short sword remained pointed at the opponent’s forehead. The opponent quickly withdrew, disappearing once again into the darkness.

However, the sound of footsteps betrayed his position, even with the thick carpet underfoot. Chu Zihang’s hidden advantage turned into a clear one, as he could hear the opponent’s breathing adjusting, no longer trying to conceal themselves. Chu Zihang grabbed the scabbard from the desk, sheathed the short sword, and hid the scabbard behind his waist. He knelt slowly on one knee, positioning himself in the beam of light from the porthole.

No longer using the fierce Samo Shikenryu style, Chu Zihang adopted the Seated Iaijutsu stance. This position, in its stillness, was capable of terrifying violence. When the sword was drawn again, its speed would exceed the speed of sound, and the opponent would not even have time to hear the wind slicing through the blade.

Masters don’t need to exchange blows repeatedly; the ultimate goal of combat is to subdue the enemy. The opponent’s breathing quickened twice before becoming more steady and prolonged, and then it vanished altogether.

Chu Zihang silently counted to three in his mind. The disappearance of the breathing meant the opponent had finished adjusting their breath. From the moment they stopped holding their breath, the so-called killing intent in Chu Zihang’s heart could only last for a few seconds. Indeed, the opponent charged at Chu Zihang with a furious momentum, and the sound of the weapon slicing through the air was like tearing through silk. Chu Zihang adopted the Iaijutsu stance, clearly signaling that he would not attack first. Life and death hung by a thread, yet Chu Zihang’s killing intent suddenly dissipated. He extended his left hand, gripping the carpet and yanking it sharply. The charging opponent immediately lost balance and fell forward. Chu Zihang moved in, locking the opponent’s throat with his left hand, while his right hand swung the sword and took a piece of candle from a nearby candlestick, igniting it as he swung.

Chu Zihang had no intention of engaging in a fight. He was only there to ask a few questions and had even come without a weapon.

A faint glow of fire illuminated the space between Chu Zihang and his opponent, revealing a strikingly beautiful face. The skin was as smooth as the finest porcelain, and the silver-gray pupils seemed to contain a constellation of stars.

The girl, in her early twenties, wore a thin silk nightgown. The exposed skin was as clean and firm as jade, with a faint cedarwood scent. Her weapon was a halberd and a small brass shield, both taken from the wall. It was thanks to the small shield that she was able to block Chu Zihang’s Cloud-Illuminating Great Sword with a single punch.

Chu Zihang and the girl locked eyes. After a moment, Chu Zihang furrowed his brow and asked sternly, “Who are you? How did you end up here?”