Chapter 279: Elven Town
The town ahead didn't look much different from an ordinary settlement. Most of the buildings were gray-bricked houses with dark tile roofs, interspersed here and there with a few treehouses that carried a distinctly elven touch. With Zhou Ning's extraordinary long-range vision, he could even spot a workshop with a wrench-shaped sign hanging outside, as well as a small tavern marked by a wineglass emblem. The only building that stood out in color was his destination—a white tower in elven style that resembled a church. In the flat space before it stood a holy statue. The distance was too great for him to make out its details for now.
Had he seen such a town anywhere else, Zhou Ning might have felt like he had hit the jackpot. To make contact with a hidden faction ahead of schedule was every player's dream. But the problem was—this was the mysterious and unfathomable Mirror World. Who could say what manner of monsters or spirits its natives might be?
He didn't rush into the town. Instead, he stayed on high ground, observing. After some patient watching, he discovered that the town wasn't sparsely populated at all; there were at least a few pedestrians on the streets.
What puzzled Zhou Ning was their "avant-garde" attire. Regardless of gender, every resident wore a black headscarf that covered even their eyes, along with black-and-white classical robes that enveloped their entire bodies.
According to common practice, colorful clothing denoted nobility. Black-and-white he could still understand, but what was with those headscarves? They couldn't even see the road ahead. Were they all cosplaying as demon hunters?
Switching his Phantom Thief, which was better suited for disguise and infiltration, Zhou Ning narrowed his eyes, waited for his chance, then used his grappling hook to glide like a ghost into the courtyard of one of the few houses with an enclosed yard. His movements were silent and elusive.
He hadn't chosen this house for convenience—it was simply that he had noticed clothing drying in its yard.
It was a black classical robe, the chest embroidered with three small red maple leaves. Zhou Ning quickly plucked it down, changed into it, and pulled the headscarf over his head.
Though the robe was a little large and the headscarf completely blocked his sight, at least it would allow him to blend in while he sought a way into the white tower. Better yet, he found several unclear-denomination banknotes tucked in the robe's pocket—useful, if needed.
Cutting a small hole in the scarf so he could see, Zhou Ning vaulted back over the wall and waited in the shadows of the buildings. When the time was right, he slipped into the crowd.
From close range, he noticed something strange. Perhaps because of the blindfolds, the townsfolk moved stiffly and somewhat sluggishly. Their levels were around 30–60—not unmanageable in a fight—but his instincts screamed of danger.
That warning came from his sharpened spiritual perception, amplified by Observation Haki.
It made him all the more cautious. As he watched, he noticed that every robe bore a different chest insignia: some displayed a single green leaf, others a blue leaf, and so on. The more leaves, the higher their rank seemed to be. Despite their obscured vision, they somehow navigated flawlessly. Along the way, many townsfolk with one or two leaves on their chest saluted him, repeating the same phrase:
"re-ro-su-pi-do-ra!"
The language was awkward and harsh, likely a greeting. Zhou Ning didn't know how to respond, so he opted for cold silence.
"Listen to the cadence—this should be Ancient Elvish," murmured Molly in his mind. "Every sentence ends with ra, re, ro, ri, or ru. It's easy to tell."
Zhou Ning nodded silently. That made sense—like how Russian often ends with "ov" or Korean with "-mida." He trusted Molly's judgment. System prompts had already confirmed this was the lost ancestral land of the elves, so Ancient Elvish was only natural.
The people looked no different from those outside, except for their ingrained, bone-deep obedience to hierarchy. Curious, Zhou Ning slipped into a roadside alchemy shop. Though he couldn't communicate, he still managed to purchase a formula he had never seen in his previous life:
Potion of Brief Invisibility
Grade: Expert
Exclusive to the Elves
Effect: Grants invisibility for 45 seconds. Cooldown: 3 minutes. Cannot be used in combat—once combat begins, invisibility is canceled.
This was the first benefit of encountering a hidden faction. Though seemingly ordinary, the potion was a necessity for solo dungeon runs or ambushes. Paired with his Phantom Thief, the effect would be more than double.
Just then, from the northwest high slope came the toll of a deep bell. Zhou Ning was startled to see every single head turn toward the northwest in unison at the very first strike—even the alchemy shop owner, mid-conversation with another customer, froze and turned his head.
The entire shop, the entire street, fell into uncanny silence. Pedestrians stood motionless, heads angled as if someone had hit pause.
The scene was disturbingly eerie.
A bead of sweat broke out on Zhou Ning's forehead. Hastily, he imitated the others and turned toward the northwest.
After half a minute of silence, everything returned to normal. But no one resumed their conversations. Instead, they filed out of the shop, merging silently with the growing crowd in the street.
From houses all around, more residents emerged into the open. Maintaining eerie silence, they lined up in strict order—five-leaf, four-leaf, three-leaf, two-leaf, one-leaf—then began marching toward the northwest slope, where the white building stood.
After brief deliberation, Zhou Ning decided to follow. All the while, he rubbed the Traveler's Ring on his finger, ready to teleport away at the first sign of danger.
Because the townsfolk walked slowly, Zhou Ning had to match their pace. It took a full twenty minutes before they reached the slope. Ahead loomed the white structure.
From up close, it was indeed a church, steeped in Ancient Elvish design. In the courtyard stood a four-to-five-meter-tall statue of a goddess.
She had long ears and a beautiful face, with wind rippling around her feet. In her hands was a bow carved with intricate floral patterns. Most striking of all were the numerous black tendrils extending outward from her body, resembling tentacles.
"Could that be the statue of the Elven Goddess?" Zhou Ning whispered. As he drew nearer, he could faintly sense that the exit he sought lay within a mirror inside the church.
"No mistake," Molly murmured. "The Elven Goddess governs wind and the hunt. This must be the ancestral land of legend. In myth, every elf's soul returned here after death, into her embrace. But as far as I know, she had already fallen long before my time."
If the Elven Goddess had perished ages ago, then who—or what—were these elves worshiping in her place? Zhou Ning frowned, an unease rising within him.