Chapter 297: Phantom Shadow
This place was already close to the deepest part of the Allsop Marsh. For "Storm" Wilt, "Barbarian" Wardhouse, and "Overalls" Jaquin to have fought their way here despite their wounds and relentless pursuit—such tenacious vitality was truly awe-inspiring.
"Yes, it should be just up ahead," Richie Burke said, glancing around.
"The path ahead is dangerous. I may not be able to protect you. Do you want to continue with me, or wait here?" Zhou Ning asked, looking at the players.
"We're not afraid. Let's go together!" XB, Jinse, and Sunken Star Beneath the Water exchanged glances before answering one after another.
What a joke—having come this far, quitting halfway wasn't an option for professional players.
The road ahead was overgrown with weeds. The narrow natural path was littered with small barefoot tracks—evidence of swamp pygmies moving about. Here and there, vague silhouettes of thatched huts could be seen.
"Up ahead is a swamp pygmy settlement. In our last exploration, we discovered a small path to the right that bypasses the settlement. Only a few scattered pygmies appear there. Considering Wilt and Jaquin were gravely injured at the time, it would've been impossible for them to fight a large group of pygmies for long. My guess is, by following that path, we'll find the cave where the treasure is hidden." Richie Burke lowered his voice.
Given Richie Burke's history of being captured by swamp pygmies and nearly cooked alive, there was no way this road wouldn't be crawling with enemies. Zhou Ning only nodded indifferently and followed the compass needle to the right-hand trail. Soon, they climbed a ridge that looped around the pygmy settlement and entered an unusually dark part of the swamp.
The vitality here was far weaker than outside. The dim light barely filtered through, and the ground was choked with black weeds taller than a man. Patches of stagnant water lay everywhere, and now and then, bones gnawed clean gleamed among the grass.
"This place looks creepy…"
The players followed closely behind Zhou Ning, carefully avoiding the bones, half-afraid they'd suddenly rise as undead. In this murky swamp, danger lurked everywhere.
The monsters here were far too powerful for them. One wrong move meant instant death. From bold at first, they had now become cautious—painful yet thrilling.
Tall totems stood among the weeds, carved with twisted letters and marked with an emblem of arrows piercing the sun.
"These are ancient Modorik runes. They worshipped the Goddess of Wind and Hunt, whose faith shares origins with the elves. In Modorik legend, there were once three suns scorching the earth, reducing all living things to ash. It was the Huntress who shot down two suns, allowing life to survive. Personally, I think it's just a heathen tale."
At some point, Molly had recovered from her weakness. Her voice still frail, she added, "Also, you must stay away from those totem poles. They weaken you and strengthen the pygmies."
This sounds a lot like Houyi shooting the suns, Zhou Ning thought. His gaze passed over the totems toward the distance. About four hundred meters ahead, he sensed movement. He immediately slowed his steps.
"Careful, someone's ahead," Zhou Ning whispered.
No one doubted him now. Everyone instinctively slowed down, slipping into a patch of weeds. Through the sparse glow between the grass, they saw the flicker of firelight in the distance.
A large group of swamp pygmies, naked and black-skinned, were gathered at an altar by a cliff, banging instruments and dancing wildly—a ritual, no doubt. There were at least a hundred of them. Behind them stood a massive totem pole.
Most striking was a pygmy wearing a green-feathered crown—clearly their chieftain. Before him stood a full-length black mirror. Behind the chieftain, a huge, deep cave yawned open in the cliff. The entrance was pressed down by blackened weeds, with faint traces of white spider webs sealing the way.
"Is that the cave?" Richie Burke asked softly.
"No," Zhou Ning shook his head. His compass needle still wavered, pointing southeast.
"What do we do then? Should we circle around?" Richie Burke's nerves prickled with unease.
"Circle. Our goal is to find the treasure, not wipe out these pygmies," Zhou Ning decided at once. His intuition told him that cave held a deadly threat—even approaching it spelled danger.
Leading them through the grass to the side of the cliff, Zhou Ning quickly steered them away from the ritual site. Luckily, they weren't discovered.
But suddenly, Zhou Ning's heartbeat spiked, pounding wildly. A familiar oppressive force bore down, compelling him to lower his head.
At the same time, he saw from the cave behind the chieftain's altar a colossal phantom spider crawl out. Its body bristled with countless eyes, black filaments writhing at its sides like tendrils of some incomprehensible creature.
It was the Dark Spider Mother—Matalita!
"Don't look back! Run!" Zhou Ning's voice was urgent.
But one curious pirate disobeyed, glancing behind—his eyes instantly bled, and he collapsed trembling, lifeless.
Several low-level players, even without looking back, still succumbed to Matalita's aura, dropping dead one by one.
The phantom spider didn't look their way. Zhou Ning noticed the grass around it blacken, sizzling, as it skittered on eight legs toward the mirror—then vanished into it.
Richie Burke and the others dared not look back. Resisting the crushing urge to kneel, they followed Zhou Ning in a desperate run deeper into the swamp.
After about five minutes, Zhou Ning's instincts told him the danger had passed. He finally stopped, glanced back, exhaled deeply, and said:
"That spider phantom was an Old God—you should have heard of it. The Dark Spider Mother, Matalita."
"An… Old God?" Richie Burke gaped, nearly losing his mind. He had actually seen one with his own eyes? Had he known there was an Old God here, he'd never have come, not even for his life.
Zhou Ning ignored Richie Burke and the stunned players who were running back from their corpses. If they knew he'd once fired a gun at that Old God, they'd probably lose their wits completely.
From what Richie Burke and Molly had told him before, the ancient Modorik people had fallen into collective mutation from worshiping a certain evil god. That god must have been the Dark Spider Mother. If he guessed correctly, that full-length black mirror was the passage to the lost elven homeland—and very likely, Matalita's true body slumbered in that cave.
In the field of occult study, a coincidence could be dismissed as chance. But one coincidence after another? That was no mere accident. Somehow, his fate had become entangled with that Old God.
By now, the compass needle was trembling violently, signaling they were close to their destination. Turning back was no longer an option. Once the group had calmed down, Zhou Ning pointed toward a narrow trail ahead.
"Go that way."