Borrowing the Tiger's Might, Flying a Grand Banner

As the fire gradually spread, all of Vienna had descended into complete chaos.

Along the way, the crackling of flames, the howling wind, looting, splashing water, cries for help, and furious roars rang out without end. Fortunately, wearing the skin of Obsidian Hall, Lude could ride through the main roads at the city center without anyone daring to stop him.

However, as the train station drew nearer, Lude gradually slowed down.

Though it had merely been an introduction to the Hidden World, Siana's illusion had indeed given Lude a basic understanding of this world. Combined with Professor Beshe's escape plan, Lude had more or less decided where he would go next.

But the question now was, how was he supposed to get there?

Aleppo was dead, but two other Arcanists from the Black Tide Society were still hiding within Obsidian Hall. Their status was far higher than that of a young man like Aleppo, which meant they were very likely capable of mobilizing the machinery of the state to hunt Lude down.

That also meant relying on trains—the only means of long-distance travel in this world—was not safe for Lude.

But then again, even on the fastest train, the journey from Vienna to the Rhine Kingdom's border would take at least three days. Without a train, Lude might need a month or even longer to leave the country.

By then, what he would face might be the National Defense Army, fully mobilized by those Obsidian Hall bastards, closing in on him from every direction.

What if he took the train out of town first, jumped off once he was far enough away, then crossed the wilderness and slipped into another country?

No, that would not work either. Lude rejected the idea at once.

Lude knew his own limits. He might be able to forge iron with his fists, shape sheet metal with his fingers, and sharpen blades with his nails, but this body could still grow tired, just as steel could suffer mechanical damage.

In a world where the natural environment was several times harsher than in his previous life, even he could not simply trek through the wilderness.

The extraordinary creatures that lived and bred in the wild, the Winds of Calamity formed by the flow of Psionic Energy through nature, even the collapse of the world itself—none of these were things a single human could forcibly resist. They had even made the political structure of this world vastly different from Earth's.

Leaving aside everything else, the source of Lude's two secondary hearts—a Dragon Beast known as a Lion Dragon—was enough to kill him.

Imagine a five-meter-long beast whose scales could withstand heavy machine-gun fire, which could soar at 120 kilometers per hour through Psionic Energy, whose claws could pierce high-strength construction concrete, and whose fireballs packed the power of a 400-millimeter heavy artillery shell...

That was why trains in this world generally had to be equipped with at least one 30-millimeter anti-aircraft gun.

Anti-aircraft guns had been invented and put into use decades before airplanes. Honestly, it was rather darkly funny.

And Dragon Beasts were not the only dangers in the wilderness. Those weaker but more common extraordinary creatures were even more dangerous and deadly.

For example, packs of Wargs, or Nekkers and Drowners lurking in shadows and waters—weak but numerous little pests. Of course, there were also Cyst-Poison Leopards that spread plague, and three-ton Terror Bears with four forelimbs, creatures occupying an ecological niche between Dragon Beasts and Nekkers.

Lude's fleshly body was naturally incomparably powerful compared to that of ordinary humans, but it was really only equivalent to a Lion Dragon. Worse, it was an adolescent Lion Dragon that could not fly, breathe fire, wield claws, or even had scales. In the perilous wilderness, that was hardly safe.

Come to think of it, if the extraordinary was hidden beneath the world's surface, how did the authorities explain the existence of extraordinary creatures?

The answer was simple—they turned a blind eye and offered no explanation at all!

That way, weak extraordinary creatures simply appeared to ordinary people as common wild beasts, no different from wolves, tigers, leopards, or other animals of the wild.

As for the powerful ones, they were regarded as natural disasters, like storms and floods.

In fact, in Lude's view, the only thing this world truly hid seemed to be the fact that humans could possess extraordinary power.

In any case, fleeing across the wilderness was clearly not viable, while remaining within the Rhine Kingdom would mean being slowly strangled by increasingly meticulous inspections. Lude stopped his horse on the empty station platform and, after a moment of thought, made up his mind—

If he was going to borrow the tiger's might, he might as well carry the act through to the end!

Frost flowers on the platform tracks trembled and rustled. A brass snowplow pushed aside the frozen frost between the rails as a pitch-black Iron Dragon tore through the curtain of coal smoke and steam, stopping before Lude according to the timetable.

"Yawn..."

With a loud yawn, a short, fat figure in uniform pushed open the train's pinewood carriage door. "Damn it, someone actually wants to board at this hour... Hey, if you're getting on, hand over the extra service fee! One Krone per person! Not half a Krone, not a quarter Krone, but one—"

His voice abruptly cut off, as sudden as a rooster swallowed by an avalanche. His eyes bulged straight ahead, nearly falling from their sockets.

"What terrible luck."

Lude pretended to feel around in his pockets and drawled, "What terrible luck, sir. It seems I did not bring my wallet. Why don't you accompany me back to the Hall to retrieve it?"

"Ah, ahba, ahbaahba..."

The man's lips trembled violently. Another layer of sweaty fat seemed to squeeze out across his fleshy face as he stammered out several incoherent syllables, then rolled down the steps like a basketball.

"Sorry, sir, I'm terribly sorry..."

"Get up." Lude lowered his eyelids halfway and spoke softly. "Or would you prefer that I step on your face to board the train and stain my boots with your blood?"

Then Lude witnessed how a lump of fat could suddenly spring upright. Truly remarkable.

The conductor practically cleared a path for Lude to board at top speed, forcibly bowing at a ninety-degree angle despite his belly fat being squeezed into three folds. "My deepest apologies, sir. I have dispatched my colleague to prepare the finest compartment in first class for you. May I ask your destination, and whether you require a wake-up ser—"

The conductor failed to finish his final word.

Because the black muzzle of a revolver had quietly pressed against his flared nostril.

"Be smart, my friend. Do not say anything so stupid."

Lude lightly tapped the conductor's stubbled cheek with the barrel and said flatly, "You should be grateful that I am a merciful man. Would you like me to remind you what that question implied?"

Gulp~

The conductor's bowed body instantly stiffened like stone. At that moment, he hated his former self beyond measure. How had he let lard cloud his brain and ended up flattering the wrong person?

Obsidian Hall was a secret police organization. He, a conductor employed by the Kingdom, had asked an agent where he was headed...

"Thank you for your mercy, sir!"

"Good." Lude wiped the grease clinging to the gun barrel on the conductor's clothes. "Seems you are not stupid. That makes things easier."

As he spoke, he seized the conductor by the ear and ordered in a low voice, "Remember this: I did not board this train. Tonight, not a single Obsidian Hall agent boarded this train. When I get off, I do not want a red carpet already laid out to welcome me. Understand?"

"Understood!" The conductor nodded rapidly. "Perfectly understood! No one will know that you boarded this train!"

"Good." Lude adjusted the collar of his overcoat. "Now I am going to rest."

"I'll take you to your compartment." With a fawning smile, the conductor led Lude all the way to first class and personally opened the compartment door for him.

Only after watching Lude step over the carpet, sit on the goose-down cushion, light a cigar embroidered with golden patterns using a tallow candle, and pick up that day's evening paper did the conductor slowly close the compartment door and wipe the sweat beading on his forehead.

Damn it, failing to take good care of this gentleman would not merely be a matter of ruining his career!