Nibelungen (II)

"Odin?"

Luo Qiusheng murmured the name. There was no room for negotiation in his eyes. The densely packed Dead Servants closing in gave him no chance to talk with the colossal figure clad in dark silver armor.

The rain poured in sheets. Cold water mingled with black-red blood and flowed freely over the road. The Dead Servants came in swarms, their limbs twisted and their flesh rotting. They squeezed hoarse, rattling growls from their throats, like starving ghouls crawling out of hell. Jostling to get at him, they lunged with drool-slicked fangs bared. The stench of blood mingled with the reek of decaying dragon blood and struck him full in the face, tightening his chest.

He never stopped moving. His supple spine twisted as he slid aside or sprang into the air, each dodge just barely clearing the Dead Servants' razor-sharp claws. Their pointed nails tore his sleeves, leaving deep gashes in the fabric. He made it through each move by the skin of his teeth; the slightest hesitation would have seen him torn to shreds by the monsters.

His gaze swept quickly over the familiar black Maybach beside him. The two empty recesses in the passenger-side glove compartment made his heart sink.

He knew those two slots all too well. They had once held Chu Tianjiao's Murasame Divine Blade. Now it was in Chu Zihang's hands.

There wasn't even a decent alchemical dagger within reach. Luo Qiusheng darted between the surrounding vehicles, searching. Rain blurred his vision. Only when he reached a red Ferrari parked nearby did he find an extended Barrett heavy sniper rifle in a hidden compartment in the trunk. Its weight dragged his arm down, and the magazine already loaded in the chamber felt just as heavy. He simply couldn't tell whether the bullet tips had been coated in alchemical plating.

Luo Qiusheng slipped around the Dead Servants closing in from three sides, briefly drawing in his wings to steady himself. Taking advantage of the momentary pause after their lunge, he shouldered the Barrett and aimed straight at Odin's face in the distance.

Bang!

The deafening shot exploded. Its tremendous recoil numbed his shoulder, and a sharp ringing instantly engulfed his ears, drowning out the Dead Servants' endless cries, snarls, and faint muttering. All that remained in the world was a buzzing aftertone.

Thick gray-white smoke rose from the muzzle, then scattered as the cold rain swept over it. Chilly raindrops battered Luo Qiusheng's cheeks and ran down his jaw. He stared hard at Odin through the smoke and thought, The heavy sniper rifle they used to pierce a First Generation's body when they killed Old Tang—Norton—at the Three Gorges Reservoir must have been this same model.

If the chamber's loaded with specially made alchemical armor-piercing rounds, they might actually break through Odin's outer armor and seriously wound him.

But reality showed him no mercy.

The instant the bullet tore through the rain, Odin's body shifted. He dodged even faster than the high-speed projectile, his black cloak leaving a streak across the rain as he evaded the deadly shot with ease.

The giant had remained silent from beginning to end. Not a sound escaped him. Only his helmeted head tilted slightly as he slowly raised his signature spear—Gungnir. Its icy point fixed on Luo Qiusheng, and an inescapable pressure of fate came crashing down over him. It felt as if the spear would pierce his soul the very next instant.

The Dead Servants surged forward behind him, one after another, sealing off every escape route. Claws, fangs, and rotting bodies drove Luo Qiusheng into a dead end.

Luo Qiusheng looked up and gazed deeply at Odin, poised to strike, Gungnir gripped in his hand. A faint crackle of splitting bones sounded from Luo Qiusheng's back. Two enormous dark-red wings burst through his clothes, exposed to the torrential rain. Pale golden patterns from Constantine's dragon bones flowed along their wing bones.

From the distant, empty stretch of highway came the heavy thud of hooves, growing clearer with every beat. One after another, they struck like blows against the heart. Driven by Odin's power, the surrounding Dead Servants attacked with ever-greater frenzy, crashing and clawing without regard for their own lives. The flow never stopped, as if this Nibelungen could give birth to an endless supply of twisted monsters.

By every measure, this was a hopeless situation.

"'The king descends from heaven, furious and fierce'?" Several lines from the original novel surfaced in Luo Qiusheng's mind. His lips twisted into a bitter smile, and he murmured, "A desperate man has nowhere left to run."

He knew he wasn't as lucky as Lu Mingfei. He had no Little Devil named Lu Mingze behind him, no one who could control the laws of exchange. He had no cheat like "Something for nothing," no way to trade a quarter of his life for power. Nor did he have the Black King's bloodline hidden within him as a safety net. He had no chance to keep spending his soul, making one attempt after another until he got it right.

Gungnir, the World Tree, fate locked in... Those three words alone foretold what would happen once the spear took aim. Once thrown, it would leave no chance of survival.

Countless thoughts whirled through his mind. The threat of death clamped around his heart, but Luo Qiusheng forced himself to stay calm, his gaze fixed on the black Maybach not far away.

It was the only vehicle in this entire Nibelungen that could break through the illusion and return to reality.

But would Odin give him a chance to escape? The answer was obvious: absolutely not. That path had been sealed from the very beginning.

"Take out the mooks first, then the boss!"

Suppressing his panic, Luo Qiusheng drew on the two powers within him to drive his wings. His massive wing blades swept out, their sharp bones slicing easily through the Dead Servants' rotting bodies. Grimy blood and chunks of flesh sprayed everywhere.

But whenever he killed a group, more Dead Servants crawled out of the rain and mist, endless, as though they could never be killed.

Fortunately, Constantine's dragon bones, now fused into his body, had brought Soul Power from the Douluo World into this Nibelungen illusion as well. The two forces intertwined, supplying a steady stream of energy to his wings.

With every slash, his wings became two enormous, flowing-fire guillotines, sharp and deadly. Any Dead Servant touched by their blades was torn apart on the spot, its severed limbs and shattered body falling into the puddles.

As Soul Power continued to pour into them, these Soul Bones, inherited from a First Generation's blood and bones, grew stronger. Warm power flowed from his spine throughout his limbs. A skill's hidden information, buried deep within the Soul Bones, abruptly surfaced in his mind. He couldn't tell whether it was a power inherent to the Dragon Tribe's dragon bones or a unique Soul Skill of the Douluo Soul Bones.

But Luo Qiusheng had no time to investigate. If he hesitated a moment longer, Gungnir would tear through the air, and he would have no room left to maneuver.

[Spirit Word: Candle Dragon.]

The silent invocation rang out in his mind. Luo Qiusheng's pupils suddenly blazed with dazzling gold. The pure light of his Golden Pupil pierced through the rain and mist as a vast, searing fire power surged madly from within him. It was the supreme power of the King of Bronze and Fire's lineage, drawn from the flame source of the First Generation Constantine.

He lifted his hand and swept it lightly. A cluster of crimson flames rose from his palm, then spread outward in fine tongues, slowly devouring the Dead Servants closing in around him. Wherever the fire touched, their rotting bodies instantly carbonized and burned away. The acrid stench of charred flesh filled the air.

The flames' temperature continued to climb without limit. A blazing barrier of fire took shape around Luo Qiusheng, shielding him from the cold rain. The raindrops evaporated before they could draw near, turning into a veil of white mist.

Each time he raised his hand and swept it out, a raging sea of fire surged forward and swallowed another swath of ground. The Dead Servants vanished in the flames before they could even scream. The monster tide that had just been hemming him in collapsed in an instant.

The moment the Candle Dragon flames spread, the hunter and the hunted traded places.

At that moment, a cold black shadow cut through the rain. Odin finally released his grip, and Gungnir hurtled straight toward Luo Qiusheng, carrying the fated force that locked onto everything in its path!

Luo Qiusheng's pupils contracted. His deep gaze locked onto the incoming spear as he silently prayed, staking his entire life on the bet: The Gungnir in Odin's hand couldn't possibly be the genuine article, forged from a branch of the World Tree!

The real Gungnir was rooted in the source of the world and bore the laws of fate. Not even every Spirit Word in the world combined could damage it in the slightest. But the spear before him was merely a replica projected by Odin's power. Its material was nothing more than high-grade alchemical metal, with no power from the World Tree's source behind it.

The King of Bronze and Fire was a First Generation, and the Candle Dragon was the pinnacle of fire-type world-ending Spirit Words. It contained the complete flame power of two Dragon Kings. That was more than enough to burn up a counterfeit!

The raging sea of fire swept forward of its own accord, wrapping layer upon layer around Gungnir in flight. The alchemical metal coating its surface quickly reddened under the extreme heat, then softened and cracked. The cold gleam of its sharp tip gradually faded.

Watching Gungnir slowly swallowed up and melted away by the Candle Dragon flames, Luo Qiusheng's tense shoulders abruptly relaxed. A relieved smile rose from deep within him.

The torrential rain continued to scour the road, but the sea of fire surrounding him did not weaken in the least. In his Golden Pupil, not a trace remained of the terror he had felt on the brink of death.