Chapter 271: Rejuvenation
This passageway stretched on endlessly, forcing Zhou Ning to stay fully focused on avoiding the traps beneath his feet. As a result, his pace was painstakingly slow.
Just like the earlier corridor, murals lined both walls, depicting the life of the Elven King Alfred—his governance, his wars, his entire reign. They seemed arranged chronologically, recording Alfred's life from youth to his prime and then into old age. Considering the immense lifespan of ancient elves, this sequence must have spanned centuries, perhaps even millennia.
The depictions of Alfred reminded Zhou Ning of the goddess murals he had once seen in St. Raymond's Cathedral. In each one, Alfred's image was both indistinct and solemn, with a halo-like radiance surrounding him. The figures were lifelike, yet imbued with a surreal sense of temporal distortion.
Molly, who was also studying the murals, suddenly lowered her voice and whispered:
"A very typical method of deification. This was common in ancient times—strengthening one's presence in art such as murals to secure recognition, which would then gradually elevate into faith."
"You mean… Alfred wanted to become a god?"
"Possibly. But unlikely. To truly become a god one needs divinity. If he had succeeded, he wouldn't still be here." Molly replied.
Zhou Ning pressed forward, letting the two lion-helmeted warriors lead the way. The silence of the passage was so oppressive that even though he deliberately softened his footsteps, faint echoes still carried into the distance.
"Wait. Something's off." Molly's tone carried a trace of unease.
"What seems off?" Zhou Ning asked instinctively.
"Step back a little. Compare Alfred's image then with the one here."
Zhou Ning did as told, retreating several meters. Behind him was a war scene showing Alfred in his old age—an ancient elven king fighting the Black Iron Dwarves. Alfred stood sideways, shrouded in layers of radiant halos, with thousands of war puppets and a vast legion of magi at his back.
"Looks fine to me." Zhou Ning then moved forward again. Ahead was another scene of Alfred in his prime, wielding a scepter pointed straight ahead. His army surged forward across rivers under his command, like a torrent sweeping all before it. Once again, his foe was the Black Iron Dwarves.
Zhou Ning's heart skipped a beat as he whispered: "You're saying… Alfred might have discovered a way to turn back the clock, to regain his youth?"
That… couldn't be, could it? As a veteran player, Zhou Ning's first instinct was disbelief.
In Apocalypse, lifespan was an unbreakable shackle for every race. Even extraordinary beings or long-lived elves only lived longer than humans; none could defy the end. The only ones obsessed with altering themselves to surpass mortal limits were the madmen of the Life Alchemy Society.
"It seems correct. According to the order of these murals, they're arranged chronologically. And besides, both of these depict the same war. This battle is well-documented—ancient elves crushed the Black Iron Dwarves in just three months, driving them out of the Jürgen Mountains. In Darkland, any random dwarf could tell you about it."
Zhou Ning unconsciously nodded. Moving further, he saw Alfred's image grow younger and younger, from middle age to youth. But his body grew larger and larger—first a little taller than ordinary elves, then towering over them, until finally he looked more than twice their size, nearly five or six meters tall. After that, war scenes became more frequent and more bizarre: battles with Hill Dwarves, with Werewolves, with Walrus-folk. The style grew stranger, more distorted.
"Couldn't it just be the painter's exaggeration—making the Elven King a giant to glorify him?" Zhou Ning muttered.
"Possible, but unlikely. Elven art is usually quite realistic." Molly dismissed the idea.
Zhou Ning frowned. Something about Alfred's transformation gave him a strong sense of déjà vu, though he couldn't immediately recall where from.
In the game's lore, Alfred believed himself the ultimate lifeform—perfect, immortal, a living god. His arrogance reached such heights that he proclaimed the sun was his golden testicles, and he waged war against all living beings.
Wait… four or five meters tall giants. He had seen one before—beneath the waters of Rivers Manor, in Sherlock's tale of a giant resembling Charles VI.
Suddenly, Zhou Ning's mind raced. Could there be a connection? Could the Life Alchemy Society, the Kingdom of Bryston, and the ancient Elven Kingdom all share some hidden, unchanging link?
He lingered before the murals for a few moments, circling them, but found nothing further.
"Let's see what lies ahead," Molly suggested.
"Alright." Zhou Ning felt a sudden unease in his chest.
After another forty meters, they reached the end of the passage, where a massive door stood slightly ajar.
At that moment, a panel message popped up:
[You have triggered an S-Rank Team Quest: Thoroughly explore the Ancient Elven Royal Tomb and uncover its secrets. Accept/Decline?]
[Quest Hint: As the burial place of the Ancient Elven King, this tomb holds vast treasures and astonishing secrets. Lead your teammates in a full exploration and uncover its mysteries. Of course, the choice is yours.]
[Time Limit: None]
An S-Rank team quest…
Zhou Ning's eyes gleamed. With no time limit, there was no reason not to accept. He immediately took the quest.
Just then, a sound echoed from behind the door. Moments later, silence returned. Zhou Ning realized, with a chill, that his psychic link to the two lion warriors had been cut off.
What…? He froze instinctively.
Then his left palm began to swell, sprouting fine tendrils that writhed in the air.
A debuff had silently latched onto him.
Ancient Elven Wraith's Gaze (Minor): You are under the gaze of an Ancient Elven Wraith. All attributes -15%.
A curse?
Zhou Ning quickly invoked Ripple Energy. Golden energy surged into his palm, bursting a small hole at its edge. Instead of blood, writhing black worms spilled out.
Hiss!
The worms were ignited by the golden flames, shriveling and crumbling into ash as they writhed on the floor.
"Run!" Molly's urgent voice rang in his mind.
From the corner of his eye, Zhou Ning saw the door shift—something was squeezing out. He couldn't make it out in the darkness, but his debuff suddenly pulsed, jumping to -30%.
Ancient Elven Wraith's Gaze: All attributes -30%.
Damn!
Without hesitation, Zhou Ning spun around and sprinted down the passage, abandoning any pretense of composure.
Even reduced, his Agility still neared 200, and at full sprint he shot forward at terrifying speed. Yet the thing behind him closed in, closer and closer, its oppressive presence bearing down heavier with every moment.
Just as he was about to escape the passage, Zhou Ning felt an icy chill at his back. In desperation, he activated the Traveler's Ring—instantly teleporting outside the corridor.
The debuff vanished at once. Zhou Ning exhaled sharply in relief.
That wraith… it had to be at least level 80, maybe higher, since even its level couldn't be detected. Its danger exceeded even Robbins. Luckily it seemed bound within the central passage. If not, things could have ended badly.
Breathing hard, Zhou Ning glanced back at the dark passage. The oppressive dread was gone. But with his current strength, he had no business delving further. At best, this place was something to tackle after reaching level 70.
That left only one path. Zhou Ning turned toward the right-hand passage. Whatever lay beyond, once he finished exploring it, he planned to withdraw.