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Chapter 3 - Chapter 3: The God’s Script Went Off the Rails

Rainy night, overpass, Maybach—this was supposed to be the turning point where the gears of fate in Dragon Raja began to spin. A dragon-slayer would be born here.

A father would burn his life to buy his son one single minute to escape, then be reduced to ash by divine punishment—

That was how the story was meant to go.

But four uninvited intruders tore a crack straight through that script.

Ashen One never cared about pressure. Anyone trying to scam him out of skills got a panda-slam to the face until they behaved.

Right now, he wanted to punch the guy pressuring him too.

He just didn't dare.

Dead silence smothered the field. Raindrops hammered the cold road—pat-pat-pat.

The Dead Servitors hissed in their throats… every sound crushed under the vast, godlike pressure that blanketed everything.

And now, that pressure—like a silent searchlight—was fixed on the four outsiders.

"This is bad. We've been spotted." Ashen One dumped the Doctor to the ground, voice heavy as soaked lead.

"No shit. We spawned under the boss's nose—you'd have to be blind not to see us!" Stelle muttered, clutching a rusty metal rod she'd grabbed off the ground.

"That's Odin, right?" Kevin said. He'd been to college, so he had some myth background. The look of this thing matched the name.

Good news: they knew what he was called.

Bad news: a god was their enemy.

"Feels weaker than the Doomsday Beast," Stelle judged flatly.

Ashen One stared at her in absolute admiration.

"Right! Why're we scared?!" Ashen One's spine straightened like he'd found a pillar to lean on. He pointed at Odin and yelled, "Sister Stelle! For love and peace! Use the bat on him!!!"

"Path power's still locked," Stelle replied matter-of-factly.

"…Trash."

"Hey! Can you be any more realistic?!" Stelle nearly hurled the rod at his face.

"I think we should maybe stop talking," the Doctor whispered. "That guy's staring at us. I've got a really bad feeling."

"How do we get out?" Kevin asked, eyes on Ashen One—the only one who might know.

Ashen One thrust a finger forward—at the battered Maybach parked before Odin, and the father and son frozen beside it.

"Listen." He lowered his voice. "When I yell go, you three sprint for that Maybach. Get in. That's probably the way out."

"Wow. That's a textbook death flag," Stelle frowned.

"Spit, spit, spit! Don't jinx it. I'm hard to kill—if you turn to ash, I'll still be standing." Ashen One yanked his sword free.

"I'll stall this big shot. You three circle behind, hop in, and run. Got it?!"

"Wait, you're serious?" The Doctor blurted. A god was a god—memory loss or not, his instincts screamed danger. Ashen One was going to face that alone to open a path for three near-strangers.

"I think we should look for another way. Maybe the chat group can send us back—" Kevin started.

"Relax. I said I won't die." Ashen One grinned, savage under the rain. "You guys, though—run slow and don't blame me."

He didn't know if his undead curse even worked in this world anymore.

But if Stelle's Path power was locked, then he was clearly the most durable here. If she had her power, he wouldn't touch this job with a ten-foot pole.

Then, before anyone could respond—

"NOW—GO!!!"

Ashen One shot forward like a moth into flame, dragging a thin trail of fire as he slammed into the mountain-sized god.

At the same instant, another roar shook the rain:

"RUN!!!" Chu Tianjiao bellowed.

Chu Zihang snapped awake, gritted his teeth, and tore for the Maybach at the fastest speed of his life.

But three figures were faster.

They crashed the door open and dove in—leaving him a seat.

"Get in!" Kevin grabbed the stunned boy and yanked him into the backseat, then spun toward the battlefield. "Ashen One! Hurry!"

His eyes caught Ashen One for a heartbeat—

SHK—!!!

A beam of annihilating light lanced through Ashen One's chest, punching a scorched, hollow hole right through his heart.

Kevin's pupils shrank.

Ashen One… died?

The thought hadn't even finished—

BOOM!

Flames exploded from Ashen One's shattered body. His empty eye sockets filled with raging fire.

"Odin—!!! You filthy bastard! Sneak attack?!" A nonhuman howl split the rain, "Come on! I'll die-grind you all night if I have to!!"

Before everyone's—including Odin's—unbelieving eyes, the Ashen One with a smoking crater in his chest raised his sword and charged again—faster, wilder.

Dead Servitors tried to block him? Sword light flashed. They were cut down like wet grass.

Odin, furious at this blasphemous provocation, flicked Gungnir. Beams of ruin rained like a storm.

Ashen One did not retreat. Did not dodge.

Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang.

Every hit turned him into blood and shards—limbs, organs, charred bone bursting through the rain.

And yet—

Every time he was blown apart, a stubborn ember flared in the wreckage.

Bones snapped back into shape under fire. Flesh rewove itself as if time reversed.

A whole Ashen One rose again, eyes burning hotter, screaming and charging the god anew.

"WHAT THE HELL?!" Chu Tianjiao's eyeballs nearly fell out. What kind of operation was this?!

Dragon King?

Some unimaginable Word Spirit?

He froze for half a second.

A Dead Servitor seized the opening and lunged for the car door.

"Get lost!"

Stelle reacted like lightning. She swung her rusty rod in a brutal arc.

THUD!

The creature's head popped like a rotten watermelon. Black, stinking blood splattered the window.

That savage blow snapped Chu Zihang fully back to reality.

"Dad! Get in the car!" he screamed out the window, voice raw.

Chu Tianjiao jerked awake, instinctively stepping toward the Maybach—then stopped dead.

"You kids go first! Go!!" he roared without looking back.

He couldn't move. The moment he tried to board, Odin's rage would fall on the car.

He could die. His son could not.

He wanted to shout a final heroic speech—

BOOM!

A flaming human-shaped "projectile" slammed into the road beside him, spraying mud and scalding blood across his face.

It was Ashen One—who'd just been turned into meat paste.

Chu Tianjiao: "…"

Ashen One coughed up mud, got to his feet like nothing happened, and shot him a glance.

"Why are you still standing there like a streetlamp?"

"Take them and GO!"

Chu Tianjiao shook his head grimly. "Someone has to stay and cover."

"Then why do you think I'm here?" Ashen One cut him off flatly.

Even as they talked, their swords never stopped. Any Dead Servitor that approached got shredded instantly.

A heartbeat after clearing the wave, Ashen One grabbed Chu Tianjiao.

Chu Tianjiao understood—

And didn't resist.

The next second, a brutal force flung him straight into the Maybach, smashing the window and dumping him inside.

"Take them and GO!!"

Outside the car, Ashen One stood with his back to them. Surrounded by a sea of monsters and a god's pressure, his lean figure looked tiny—

And unbreakably stubborn.

His sword churned nonstop, stirring up a red mist in the rain.

"Don't think my hundreds of deaths were for nothing!!"

Chu Tianjiao, dazed and bleeding, stared at that blood-drenched back and forced out one word:

"Go."

The battered Maybach's engine screamed. Tires melted against wet asphalt, burning white smoke.

In an instant, it hit over two hundred kilometers per hour—like a steel beast ripping through the rain toward the tollgate.

"Ashen One—don't die, you bastard—!!!" Stelle leaned half her body out the shattered window, screaming until her throat tore.

Odin seemed to turn toward the fleeing car, lifting Gungnir—

"HEY, GRANDSON! Where you looking?! Grandpa's right here!!" Ashen One's burning form latched onto him again, sword aimed for Odin's single eye.

CRACK!

Gungnir swept out with a shriek, sending Ashen One flying like a rag doll.

Odin watched the Maybach vanish into the distance.

If he wanted, one throw of Gungnir would pierce it through space and pin it to the earth.

But he didn't.

Inside that car… was a monster. A vessel that carried a terrifying force.

That girl—Stelle—had a Stellaron inside her.

He couldn't be sure whether a lethal strike would ignite that unstable bomb.

The unknown made him hesitate.

And in that sliver of hesitation, the battlefield shifted—

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