Chapter 984 – The Nightveil Clan

The path leading to the cave network where the Nightveil Clan’s territory lay was hidden and treacherous, requiring passage through an underground water vein before scaling a near-vertical wall of slick, wet rock.

Fortunately, the dangerous creatures in the surrounding area had all been cleared out, and the Underground World’s raiders didn’t dare cause trouble nearby.

After two more days of trekking, when the terrain began to slope noticeably downward and the glowing plants ubiquitous to the Underground World vanished entirely, they had finally reached the outer perimeter of the Nightveil Clan’s cave network as marked on Viola’s map.

The shadow elements in the air became extraordinarily active.

Ordinary illumination Magic appeared pale and feeble here. The light was rapidly “absorbed” and “diluted” by the surrounding darkness, barely managing to illuminate three to five steps ahead before losing all potency.

Only dark races like the Deep Shadow Elves—born with extraordinary dark vision and the ability to command the power of shadow—could move freely in such extreme environments, treating darkness as both their greatest cover and their deadliest weapon.

Any living creature, from the moment they set foot in this area, was under the Nightveil Clan’s surveillance. One had to follow the route on the black leather parchment precisely, and when necessary, clearly speak the correct passcode to safely navigate the cave labyrinth and find the Nightveil Clan’s true territory.

Mo Lan could clearly sense the faint, intermittent gazes from within the darkness, but she pretended not to notice, strictly following the map in her memory toward the correct tunnel entrance.

After walking for roughly half an hour, three nearly identical passages fanned out before her. The size, shape, and even the rock grain of each opening were strikingly similar.

Mo Lan shifted her steps slightly and strode directly into the middle passage.

Only after her figure disappeared into the tunnel mouth did the watching eyes deep within the left and right passages withdraw.

From there, the forks grew increasingly numerous along the route, and the methods for passing through them grew increasingly complex.

Sometimes it was simply a choice between a stretch of seemingly solid rock floor and a narrow bridge covered in slippery moss. Other times, there was nothing but a rock wall ahead, and one had to activate a hidden shadow rune according to the method marked on the black leather parchment to open a gap. Once, she faced an underground swamp full of boiling acid, and the only way across was to step on specific colored pumice stones—each barely the size of a foot—precisely marked on the map. One wrong step meant total dissolution, not even bones left behind.

At every fork, Mo Lan could feel someone “watching” her.

After passing through several dozen such junctions, the passage ahead suddenly opened up into a relatively spacious cavern hall.

At the far end of the Great Hall stood a massive, tightly sealed gate forged from some dark metal.

Flanking the gate were not empty spaces but two black-clad figures standing ramrod straight, their entire bodies concealed beneath cloaks.

They blended perfectly with the surrounding shadows. Had Mo Lan not been well-versed in the power of shadow herself, she might not have detected their presence right away.

The two patches of shadow writhed slightly, like drops of thick ink falling into water, slowly spreading and taking shape. In the next instant, they “emerged” in a manner that defied visual logic, materializing three paces to her left and right, daggers pointed straight at her throat. “Halt, outsider…”

Even though Mo Lan had come on a friendly visit, she wasn’t about to tolerate daggers at her neck.

Besides, she was rather curious to see what the Nightveil Clan’s elite Shadow Assassins were made of.

Her figure blurred and twisted, then quickly melted into the darkness.

“Hm?” The two Shadow Assassins’ daggers struck nothing but air. Their movements froze for the briefest, almost imperceptible instant. Losing control of their target caught them off guard, but they didn’t panic.

They swiftly pressed their backs together, extending their senses to their fullest to detect any anomaly in the surrounding darkness.

By then, Mo Lan’s figure had already “crystallized” out of a deeper patch of shadow above their heads. Her movements were light and soundless. With a flip of both hands, two short blades—plain in design but with edges that gleamed with a faint, cold cyan light—slid into her palms.

She lowered her body further, suppressing her presence to near nothingness, then struck swiftly downward at the two Deep Shadow Elves below.

The Deep Shadow Elves quickly detected the anomaly above. They sprang apart to dodge her blades, then immediately closed in to counterattack.

For a moment, in the dim Great Hall before the gate, three figures darted and weaved like phantoms—chasing, intercepting, evading.

There was no thunderous clash of metal on metal, only the faint whisper of fabric cutting through air and the soft scrape of boot soles against stone.

Under the two black-clad assassins’ furiously coordinated pincer assault, Mo Lan appeared to be in constant peril, yet she always managed to evade their lethal combined strikes by the narrowest of margins at the very last possible instant.

She used no high-powered spells or signature abilities belonging to other Elf branches. She relied solely on footwork that blended the agility of a ranger with the unpredictability of a Shadow Assassin, combined with her own extraordinary reflexes and anticipation, to hold her own against these two Nightveil Clan elites.

As the exchange dragged on, the two Deep Shadow Elves sensed something was off. Worried the newcomer might harbor ill intent, one of them instinctively reached for an unassuming bone whistle at his waist, preparing to blow it—both to alert the other clan members and to summon reinforcements.

Mo Lan noticed his movement and immediately raised both hands in a gesture of ceasefire. She stepped back several paces to open up a safe distance, then deliberately cast Shadow Walker ninth-level Magic, Shadow Binding Touch, immobilizing them both.

“Stand down! Easy, you two! I’ve been referred by Viola Nightveil and have come specifically to pay a visit to Lord Shadow Blade. Here is my letter of introduction!”

As she spoke, she smoothly produced Viola’s letter of introduction from inside her garment.

As for the fierce exchange of blows moments ago—that lightning-fast clash—she didn’t mention it at all. No explanation, no apology.

In this perilous Underground World where the strong reigned supreme—especially at the doorstep of the Nightveil Clan, an assassin tribe built on killing and secrecy—strength itself was the best language and the hardest pass.

From the moment these two Deep Shadow Elf guards had revealed themselves, their undisguised killing intent and their strikes aimed at vital points were less a routine security check and more a carefully designed test of strength.

In the Underground World—especially among the Nightveil Clan—a safe identity alone was far from sufficient.

Someone who lacked the ability to protect themselves, who couldn’t hold their ground in a sudden confrontation—a mere “well-connected guest”—would most likely never leave the territory alive, even if allowed entry.

Now that she had proven her strength, actually letting them summon other Deep Shadow Elves and escalating the situation would only make things worse.

When the two Deep Shadow Elves saw her use Shadow Binding Touch, they immediately recognized her as a formidable dual-path practitioner of both Shadow Assassin and Shadow Walker. For a fleeting moment, they even wondered which clan elder had returned.

Instead, they heard her say she had been referred by Lady Viola, and had come to visit Lord Shadow Blade.