The dark, leaden clouds stretched across the sky, torn apart by the fury of thunder.
A figure sat astride an eight-legged steed, wearing a solemn iron mask. In the single visible eye, a brilliance far surpassing lightning erupted.
At this moment, the entire world seemed to tremble, fearful of the figure bathed in lightning.
Even the relentless downpour seemed to halt its howling, as if the arrival of this person made the storm itself pause.
Within a few meters of them, an invisible barrier seemed to keep the rain and mist at bay, unable to intrude even slightly.
They walked through the storm and thunder, like a God from ancient times, exuding an overwhelming, oppressive presence that roared like a raging tide.
Boom!
A cold, murderous aura spread like a tidal wave, filling the world.
Cheng Er, whose bloodline was only rated C, felt as though his throat was being choked.
A suffocating sensation overwhelmed him, as if facing a god, an oppressive weight as heavy as an abyss or prison.
It was like being deep in the ocean, thousands of meters underwater. Any moment of weakness would crush him under the immense pressure!
No. I can't hold on…!
Under that terrifying pressure, Cheng Er groaned in pain. Blood poured from his eyes, nose, ears, and lips.
He could hear his bones creaking, his nerves screaming in panic, his soul trembling and crying out as if mourning for the life about to slip away.
Suddenly, Chu Zihang stepped forward, blocking the figure's line of sight with his slender, not-so-muscular frame.
The pressure on Cheng Er immediately eased. His legs buckled, and he collapsed to the ground, his eyes wide with fear, his lungs desperately gasping for air. His heart raced uncontrollably.
Though he had graduated from Cassell Academy, his poor grades and mediocre bloodline had relegated him to the logistics department.
But… this was the first time he had encountered someone as terrifying as the iron-masked figure!
The suffocating pressure felt like an abyss, constantly reminding him just how fragile life truly was!
The kind of fear that seeps into your bones, and the helplessness, was like the tough threads spun by a spider, tightly wrapping around its prey as it falls into the web, suffocating and killing it completely!
"Here we meet again, Odin!"
In Chu Zihang's eyes, it seemed like only that figure remained.
Those golden eyes, never dimming, were filled with a complex mix of emotions, appearing angry and ferocious. The temperature suddenly spiked, evaporating the nearby rain.
Cheng Er, who was close by, seemed to feel a furnace burning intensely. The heatwave hit him directly, making him lick his dry, cracked lips, but then he noticed that the heat was so intense that the air around them was distorting!
So this is the power of the high-risk Word Soul, King's Blaze, the rumored ability?
Seeing it in person was truly more than hearing about it. Even though the Word Soul's power hadn't been fully unleashed yet, the unbearable heat was already too much.
"The next thing has nothing to do with you."
Beneath Chu Zihang's seemingly calm expression, there was an overwhelming surge of rage that could crush rocks and overturn the heavens.
He bent down, took out the alchemical sword "Murakumo" from his suitcase, then stood up straight, trying to control his tone.
In a calm, indifferent voice, he said without turning around, "Go back to the car, don't look back, step on the gas, and drive until you're far away, understand?"
"Officer Chu, what about you?" Cheng Er, although wanting to run away from this terrifying place, still forced himself to ask with trembling fear.
"I have a score to settle with this guy."
Chu Zihang drew the alchemical sword "Murakumo" and stepped toward Odin, who was mounted on a giant eight-legged horse.
"Chu—"
Cheng Er wanted to speak but suddenly felt the ground tremble violently.
Boom!
A loud sonic boom rushed through the air, echoing across the dark elevated bridge.
Looking at Chu Zihang, Cheng Er saw his figure flying like a cannonball, charging straight toward the thunder-struck god, leaving behind a clear footprint where he had been standing moments ago.
Blood Rage—Stage 2!
The boiling dragon blood burned like flames, surging through the young body like adrenaline.
Azure scales erupted wildly from beneath his skin, as though an unyielding armor had been draped over him.
His entire form resembled a copper statue cast from molten iron, with only his furious, bloodshot golden eyes—sharp like blades—piercing through the dark night, exuding a chilling, murderous intent!
His already well-toned muscles now unleashed the hidden power within his genes, erupting like a volcano in a fierce explosion!
The mighty strength inherited from the dragon lineage reached its peak in this moment. The air around him rumbled with the force of thunder as the young man stepped into the forbidden domain of the gods!
"Hey, Odin. I'm coming!"
The sound waves mixed with the raging gusts of wind, spreading like a surging wave.
In an instant, the asphalt within a radius of dozens of meters was torn up, and small shards of hard rock and sand shot through the air, screaming as they passed.
The youth stepped hard, leaping into the air like a streak of light across the night sky, lunging at the god seated atop his majestic steed.
The nightmares of the past flashed in his mind, culminating in an overwhelming rage, as he unleashed a strike—one that had been drilled into his instincts through countless repetitions.
Clang!
The sound of the blade rang out like a dragon's roar, cutting through the air with ferocious waves!
The cold, icy, and brutal sword light illuminated the night in that very moment.
The sword's glow resembled a giant dragon, coiling in the heavens, its tail slicing through the air, pushing back layers of the atmosphere.
The strike, surpassing its limits, cleaved through the thunder emitted by the eight-legged steed and continued toward Odin's iron-masked head!
But in the next moment…
Odin's dark spiral spear, intricately engraved with runes, shot forward like a dragon emerging from the depths, lightning-fast, and struck the descending blade.
Bang!
In the instant of collision, an unstoppable force surged through Chu Zihang's entire body, nearly knocking the Murakumo sword from his grip.
The alchemical blades forged from multiple alloys were strong enough to mark even the bones of a dragon, but when they struck the black spear, not only did they leave no mark, but they were also forced back with a visible crack!
Gungnir—the spear of Odin, forged from the World Tree's branches in Norse mythology—was said to be a legendary artifact capable of hitting its target no matter the distance.
For a brief moment, Chu Zihang froze, only to snap back to reality as the thunderous strike from Gungnir approached.
Odin swung Gungnir, making a seemingly ordinary thrust.
Whum!
In an instant, the pitch-black spiral spear seemed to vanish into thin air. Chu Zihang's heart skipped a beat as he felt an overwhelming, chilling murderous intent envelop him.
The torrential rain, carrying fierce winds, came crashing down like a mountain, while streaks of dazzling meteors remained in his vision.
Without thinking, Chu Zihang instinctively raised his sword to block, but immediately after, an unstoppable force, with immense violence, crushed him. He was violently sent flying.
Bang!
The alchemy blade, which had accompanied him through countless battles, shattered under Odin's strike.
Like a cannonball, Chu Zihang was launched at several times the speed of sound, defying gravity, and leaving sonic booms in his wake. He dug a deep trench into the ground, skidding for nearly a hundred meters before finally coming to a halt.
Yet his body, strengthened to the hardness of steel through repeated blood enhancement, was now drenched in blood.
At this moment, the blue scales covering Chu Zihang's body had been forcibly scraped off during the intense friction with the ground. One arm hung uselessly, and his right leg was bent in an unnatural position, clearly incapacitated and unable to fight any longer.
Looking at Chu Zihang, kneeling on one knee and drenched in blood like a demon, Odin, wearing his iron mask, stood tall and unchallenged, gazing down arrogantly at the pitiful and insignificant human.
"Submit, mortal."
Odin's voice, like thunder, rolled through the clouds and storm, shaking the very air around them.
"Bah!"
Even in such a severe state, Chu Zihang refused to submit.
He wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, like a warrior determined to die, clutching the broken half of his blade, defiantly staring at the god before him.
Seemingly losing patience, Odin's single eye, beneath his iron mask, erupted with molten golden flames. "Then die!"
The Gungnir, forged from the World Tree, commanded the raging thunder in the sky. Thunderbolts descended from above, striking the tip of the spear as if to coat it in a layer of divine light.
Countless streaks of light, like falling meteors, gathered at the brilliant tip, creating a scene that seemed to herald the end of the world!
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