Chapter 276: Small World
No, there's no "what if." Nine times out of ten, the ancient ruins the Life Alchemy Society discovered are right here.
Their human transmutation techniques share the same origin. Though the level gap between Ruins' transfer student Holwig and Queen Dalian after her mutation was nearly forty levels, their corrupted forms still bore similarities. Think again of the murals depicting Elf King Alfred growing larger and larger, then of Charles VI, assassinated by the Life Alchemy Society together with the Curse God Cult—was the giant he mutated into also just a coincidence?
Zhou Ning's expression grew increasingly grave. If his suspicions were correct, then the depth of the Life Alchemy Society's foundations could only be described as unfathomable. Given that elves were a long-lived race, it was highly likely that an ancient elf—perhaps more than one—was still hidden behind the Society.
Forcing himself to remain calm, Zhou Ning began to examine the tomb chamber. The expedition team that had entered earlier was clearly formidable. Aside from the six corpses, four gargoyle remnants lay scattered about. The place was a complete mess—shards of pottery everywhere. It was obvious the team had ransacked the chamber thoroughly when they entered, combing through every inch. Even the burial vessels, urns, and jars had all been smashed open to check for valuables.
The looting was so meticulous, and yet no treasures remained behind. This alone proved that the team had not been wiped out here, but had instead escaped.
"This tomb belonged to Lirad, the Elf Kingdom's Chief Arcanist and also one of the greatest alchemists. Among the high-ranking professionals buried with the Elf King, his status was the highest. After all, ancient elves revered magic above all else," Molly said after studying the inscriptions on the wall.
Lirad… the same name as a famous athlete Zhou Ning had known in his past life. He nodded, memorizing the name. Confirming there were no hidden compartments in the walls, he walked over to the sarcophagus and looked down from above.
To his surprise—and frustration—the coffin was empty. Not a single trace remained.
And unlike the other high-ranking professionals' coffins, Lirad's showed no signs of struggle—no claw marks, nothing. Clearly, he had left easily.
Recalling another empty coffin he had seen, Zhou Ning concluded the likeliest scenario was that Lirad had left with General Ranger Talonia and Grand Alchemist Goodwin, aided by outsiders.
But then, a question remained: the tracks ended here. With his experience, Zhou Ning was sure the expedition team hadn't left this room. So how had they escaped? As he pondered, his eye suddenly caught a full-length mirror in the corner of the tomb.
"Careful. In the occult, mirrors can serve as gateways to hidden planes. They can connect to indescribable entities and cause terrifying accidents—especially mirrors in places like this," Molly warned gently in his mind.
"You think the exit could be hidden in the mirror? After all, we came here through Damian's mirror," Zhou Ning asked.
"…It's possible. But caution first. Don't underestimate it."
A white glow surged from Zhou Ning's body. A buff appeared on his status bar: Verity Spell: Sun's Grace. His health jumped by over a thousand, and all attributes increased. The "granny" in his mind had been generous for once, bestowing him with divine sunlight magic, though she immediately sank into temporary weakness afterward.
Despite the light-absorbing array that made the chamber unnaturally dark, the blessing of sunlight and his night-vision goggles let him clearly see the reflection. There he was, clad in his pitch-black Phoenix Battle Suit, standing in the same pose. But behind his reflected self floated a dark, shadowy figure.
"Looks like a wraith… but I don't sense any evil aura," Molly whispered.
Zhou Ning slowly turned his head, feigning calm. Just as he was about to pivot fully, a powerful premonition of danger flared in his mind. Snapping back toward the mirror, he saw his reflection sneer with a sinister grin—and extend a hand toward him.
A hand clad in Phoenix Battle Suit armor shot through the mirror and clamped onto his right shoulder, yanking him forward. Despite his strength stat being over 30 (?), he couldn't break free immediately.
With his right shoulder seized, Zhou Ning could only use his left hand to grab the intruding arm. The touch was chillingly cold. Drawing on his newly boosted stats, he yanked back—like reeling in a fish—and dragged out from the mirror a figure identical to himself: Wayne Sturwell, also clad in the Phoenix Battle Suit. The doppelgänger thrashed violently, its contorted face filled with menace.
Shhh!
A ripple of azure energy burst from its palm, trying to scorch Zhou Ning's grip.
–117!
The status panel displayed its attributes:
———
Mirror Demon (Wayne Sturwell)
Level: 60 Demon Hunter
Stats: [Strength 37, Agility 203, Vitality 102, Willpower 81, Spirit 130, Charisma 1]
HP: 2030/2030
Status: Healthy
Specialties: [Omitted]
Skills: [Omitted]
Equipment: Ebony & Ivory, Phoenix Battle Suit, General Ranger's Swift Emblem, Bracer of Dark Will
———
Aside from charisma, everything—stats, skills, equipment—was identical to him.
Admittedly unnerving, but with the panel laying bare every detail, Zhou Ning wasn't about to be intimidated. Besides, for a ranged fighter like this mirror self, once caught in close combat, the outcome was obvious.
Though the burning ripple gnawed at his left hand, Zhou Ning's grip held fast. Calm as stone, he conjured the Cortés Sword in his right hand. Without hesitation, he unleashed Divine Departure. A flash of radiant sword light illuminated the entire dark tomb.
Pinned in place, the mirror double couldn't evade and was forced to take the blow. With an unwilling snarl, it was obliterated along with the dazzling light.
[You have slain Mirror Demon (Wayne Sturwell) (Lv. 60). You gained 27,000 EXP.]
The reward wasn't much, and no loot dropped. A pity for such a handsome face, Zhou Ning thought with a shake of his head. He turned back to the mirror.
Now the reflection was empty—no shadow, not even his own. Reaching out, he touched the surface. The once-smooth mirror rippled like water. It seemed to function much like Damian's mirror.
Testing further, Zhou Ning immersed himself into it. Space warped—and in the next instant, he was inside.
The mirrored space was eerily familiar. The layout matched the tomb chamber exactly—except there were no corpses. Everything else was a perfect reflection. In the distance lay a hazy, green-tinged membrane, like mist. That was clearly the gateway out of the mirror world.
At this point, hesitation was pointless. Without pause, Zhou Ning stepped through.
Mist swirled before his eyes, and he emerged inside a dilapidated structure. The interior walls were covered in murals etched with elven motifs. Majestic pillars stood in symmetrical pairs, though now coated with dust and riddled with cracks, giving an impression of faded grandeur.
Nearby stood three large bookshelves, each stuffed with tomes, all decayed and crumbling from the passage of time.
After checking a few shelves and confirming nothing usable remained, Zhou Ning walked leisurely to the murals. Half-archaeologist as he was, he found them fascinating—Molly did too.
The protagonist of the murals was again Elf King Alfred. But the scenes they depicted made Zhou Ning's expression grow steadily heavier, tinged with shock.