Dragon Raja: Lu Mingfei finds a Freylian

10 minute later.

As the game reaches a crucial moment, they need to work together to fight the final boss, the black dragon Nidhogg.

Isabel proposed a bold plan: "If I use all my magic points to enhance Aki's ice arrows, and then combine them with Ye Sheng's lightning..."

“The risk is huge,” Lu Mingfei frowned, “but if it succeeds.”

“It’s worth a try,” Frilian said.

In the end, they defeated the Black Dragon by a narrow margin.

At eight o'clock in the evening, the activity room was filled with an enticing aroma. The long table had been transformed into a makeshift buffet, piled high with various foods brought by club members.

"Making delicious food is a tradition of our club, even though the club hasn't been around for very long," Lu Mingfei explained to Isabel, taking a plate of steaming dumplings from a thermal container. "These are three-ingredient dumplings that I tried making; I hope they didn't break."

Shudeya brought an exquisite sushi platter, while Ye Sheng contributed a pot of fragrant curry.

Lin Xia proudly displayed her baked chocolate chip cookies, while Horus brought over a large bowl of what looked rather dubious "Emperor's Salad".

Frillie took out several perfectly shaped macarons from a small basket.

“Frilian’s desserts are always the most popular,” Lin Xia whispered to Isabel, “even though she always felt that she wasn’t doing them well enough.”

Isabel took a thermal box out of her backpack. "I brought paella. I hope everyone will like it."

She opened the box, revealing golden rice topped with fresh shrimp, mussels, and squid, exuding the aroma of saffron and garlic.

“Looks good. Do you have a recipe?” Lu Mingfei asked.

“Thank you for the compliment, it’s my grandmother’s recipe,” Isabelle said with a smile.

Everyone sat around the long table, sharing food and exchanging recipes.

As night fell, the club activities drew to a close. Lu Mingfei and Frilian escorted Isabel to the entrance of the Norton Building.

“So,” Frilian asked, “what do you think of the ‘Mage Guild’?”

Isabel gazed at the warm light emanating from the building, "It's even better than I expected."

"So, would you like to become the General Affairs Assistant of the Mage's Guild?"

"I am willing."

Chapter 83 The Night Watch (Part 1)

Raindrops pattered down, leaving distorted streaks on the church's stained glass windows.

The bells on the church steeple tolled, their dull thuds piercing the rain. The long intervals between the tolls made it seem like a countdown, or perhaps a death knell tolling for some unseen spirit.

With a creak, the door was pushed open, and a damp, cold wind carrying raindrops rushed into the room.

A man carrying a black umbrella walked in slowly, raindrops from the umbrella forming trickles on the ground. He wore a well-tailored black suit, with a fresh white rose pinned to his chest, its petals still damp with rain.

The man casually folded his umbrella, leaving a small puddle of water on the floor at the tip.

“Flame, don’t you feel suffocated living in a place like this?” the man said, looking around with a hint of languor. “Listen to the rain, the bells, it sounds like a funeral.”

He casually found a sofa that looked fairly clean and sat down, his black leather shoes landing on a pile of yellowed newspapers. "What do you want to drink? Anything is fine."

The sound of keyboard typing came from the corner. A middle-aged man with disheveled hair sat in front of a computer, with a lab report sent by Frillian on the screen.

Without turning his head, he clicked his tongue. "I'm happy to live here, I'm happy to hear the bells. Angers, could you please not come to see me dressed like you're at a funeral? It's bad luck."

Angers raised an eyebrow. "What? Haven't I been dressing like this all these years?"

He loosened his tie. "This thing's a bit too tight."

Flamel, grumbling, picked up an unopened bottle of whiskey from the ground; the bottle was covered in a thick layer of dust.

He rummaged through a pile of empty pizza boxes and cola cans for a long time before pulling out two dirty glasses with fingerprints on the walls, the exact date of which was unknown.

He casually wiped the rim of the glass with the hem of his shirt, poured in about half a glass of amber liquid, and then added ice cubes.

The room resembled a junkyard ravaged by a hurricane. Thick ancient books were piled in the corners, with colorful sticky notes tucked between their pages. Leftover takeout containers shared the same floor as priceless alchemical manuscripts.

Angers took the cup, his gaze sweeping over every corner of the room. "Your place is becoming more and more 'unique'."

He took a sip of whiskey without even flinching, completely unconcerned about the bacteria that might be in the glass.

"Enough with the nonsense." Flamel plopped down opposite Angers, the sofa groaning under its weight. "You came to see me in the middle of the night in the rain, not to criticize my lifestyle."

Angers put down his cup, took a voice recorder from his suit pocket, and gently placed it on the coffee table between the two of them.

“It’s time to hear the secret,” Angers said, pressing play.

First came a hissing sound of electricity, followed by a conversation between two men. One was young and calm, the other deep and authoritative.

What's on the overpass?

There was nothing there, only rain and wind.

What did you encounter?

“A group of shadowy figures, they craved blood, they craved the living, and in the end they all died.”

"Did anything else happen?"

"Father, Maybach, Time Zero, Odin, God."

The recording abruptly stopped, and the room fell into an eerie silence, broken only by the sound of raindrops tapping on the glass and the faint chiming of a distant clock.

Flamel's expression froze as he rubbed his wine glass.

Angers turned off the recorder. "I originally went to Chu Zihang's dorm today to ask him about the Blood Explosion, but I unexpectedly discovered something new. What do you think?"

Flamel whispered, "It sounds like a boy's nightmare. Has the Maybach been found?"

Ang nodded. "There was no overpass as Chu Zihang described. The Maybach was found in a wasteland a few hundred meters away, covered in scratches and severely damaged. There were no signs of collision; the scratches looked more like claw marks."

Flamel sighed, his beer belly rising and falling with his breath. "So, our A-level student, Chu Zihang, when he was young, met Odin from Norse mythology on an overpass with his father?"

He shook his head. "That's not scientific, it can't be."

“It couldn’t have been the land of death, Nibelungen,” Angers replied.

“Nibelungen?” Flamel stood up, a beer can rolling off the sofa armrest and leaving a wet trail on the floor.

"Nibelungen is the holy land of alchemy! Alchemists all over the world have been searching for it for thousands of years! And a little boy just went in like that?"

Angers stared at Flamel's flushed face and large belly, a slight smile playing on his lips. "It's been a long time since I've seen you so excited. You're not what you used to be; you're now a pot-bellied, greasy middle-aged man."

Flamel looked down at his protruding belly; his once-muscular eight-pack abs had vanished without a trace.

He chuckled self-deprecatingly, "Now I'm just a vice principal drinking beer."

But he quickly regained his seriousness. "Angers, you know what Nibelungen means."

"So, can you give this alchemical illiterate a lesson?" Angers swirled his glass, the ice cubes clinking together.

Flamel took a deep breath and began pacing around the room, occasionally kicking aside any obstructions in his path.

“In Norse mythology, Nibelungen is the ‘land of the dead,’ the realm of the dead. But in the realm of alchemy, it refers to an independent space created through alchemy, a dimension that overlaps with but is different from the real world.”

He walked to the bookshelf, pulled out a thick ancient book, and stirred up fine dust as he turned the pages.

"The greatest alchemists were able to construct their own Nibelungen, a world built purely of 'spirit.' There, the creator is the god, who can set all the rules."

"Legend has it that the dragon kings all have their own Nibelungen, which is their nest and their tomb."

A flash of lightning streaked across the window, illuminating Flamel's excited face. The thunder, though late, arrived, making the window tremble slightly.

“The Nibelungen is not a place one can enter casually,” Flamel continued. “It has its own ‘rules’ and ‘keys.’ It could be a specific time, place, or a certain mental state. Anyone who mistakenly enters the Nibelungen has vanished forever.”

He stared at Angers, "If Chu Zihang really entered the Nibelungen, he could still come out alive."

"Either his lineage is more special than we thought, or the Nibelungs intentionally let him go."

The room fell silent again.

Flamel walked back to the sofa and sat down heavily, the sofa springs creaking in protest.

"Do you believe this recording?" Flamel asked.

Angers fiddled with the white rose on his chest. "When Chu Zihang said those words, his heart rate, pupil size, and micro-expressions all showed that he wasn't lying. Either he really experienced these things, or he firmly believed that he had."

He paused for a moment, "And you know why I'm so sensitive to the Nibelungs."

"Because of Menek."

Angers' gaze drifted into the distance. "On that night in 1900, we lost not only Meneque, but also the entire Lionheart Society."

Chapter 84 The Night Watch (Part 2)

The rain gradually subsided, but the church bells continued to ring every now and then.

Angers stood by the window, gazing at the gradually dissipating rain clouds outside, the ice in his glass of wine already mostly melted.

“No,” he began, “not only Chu Zihang, but also Lu Mingfei and Frilian have entered the Nibelungen.”

Flamel, who was stuffing a piece of pizza he had taken from the pizza box on the ground into his mouth, almost choked when he heard this.

He pounded his chest, took a big gulp of wine before washing the food away, and said, "They just wandered in by mistake and encountered a lone Deadpool. They can't compare to Odin and the Deadpool horde that Chu Zihang ran into."

Angers turned around, swirling his wine glass thoughtfully. "It's impossible for it to have been a mistake. What do you think Lu Mingfei, Chu Zihang, and Frilian have in common when they encountered the Nibelungen?"

Flamel scratched his messy hair with his greasy fingers, shaking his head as he thought. "I don't know. The only thing we know is that Chu Zihang went to Nibelungen, and Lu Mingfei and Frilian are suspected of going there as well."

He paused, his eyes widening. "The locations are all in China. So there are two Dragon Kings in China?"

Angers nodded slightly. "That's most likely the case."

The room fell into a brief silence, filled only by the hum of the computer fan.

Flamel sprang up from the sofa, his beer belly hitting the coffee table, sending several empty cans crashing to the floor. "Wait, in that case, could we go back into the Nibelungen with them?"

He muttered to himself, "It seems possible. Those who have been there are essentially marked, and may be able to re-enter the Nibelungen at a specific time and place."

"If you could really get in, Angers, what would you do?"

Angers found a bottle of whiskey among a pile of junk on the ground and poured himself a full glass.

He raised his glass to the light, and the amber liquid reflected a golden light in the glass.

“To drop nuclear bombs into Nibelungen one by one,” he said, taking a sip of his drink, “and watch the dragons perish.”