Chapter 283: Drawing the Gun
The old elf's teleportation ability was quite unusual. He didn't raise his hand or chant a spell—rather, it was as if he directly erased the distance between himself and Zhou Ning with sheer mental power, appearing at Zhou Ning's side in an instant.
This was a technique only master-class mages could grasp: Mind Transmission. Not only could it teleport the caster, but it also inflicted a degree of spatial damage at the destination.
Yet Zhou Ning's reaction was beyond his expectations. Even before he activated Mind Transmission, Zhou Ning had already raised his gun and resolutely fired at the exact spot he was about to teleport into!
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Three shots in rapid succession. Bullets laced with golden flames, thin layers of frost, and divine radiance tore through the void and struck the old elf's head.
This wasn't Observation Haki at work. In fact, ever since entering this cathedral, Zhou Ning's Observation Haki had been heavily suppressed. It was purely his battle instinct kicking in. He had experienced something similar when fighting Horvig—a unique, indescribable sensation, as if everything were under his complete control.
Amidst the rapid gunfire, the old elf all but delivered himself to Zhou Ning's aim. His head was forced back again, one of his compound eyes exploding from a bullet, spraying purplish-blue fluid as golden ripples drilled inward, sizzling as they burned.
It looked brutal, but not even close to a serious injury. It only forced his body to stagger back uncontrollably, clutching his face in pain.
By now, more spiderized elves had swarmed forward, cutting off Zhou Ning's path. Fortunately, the single-leaf and double-leaf elves outside hadn't rushed in; otherwise, even two lives wouldn't be enough for him to survive.
Facing the oncoming elves, the skill [Gun-Fu: Psychic Counter] on Zhou Ning's interface flared. With his elbow, he forcefully interrupted one elf's charge, then swung his arm around, switching to firearm mode mid-motion and blowing another elf's head apart at close range.
[Gun-Fu: Psychic Counter (Beginner): When attacked at close range, there is a chance to block and gain a counterattack effect. During the effect's duration, there is a chance to forcibly interrupt the enemy's actions and retaliate at close range. This includes, but is not limited to, point-blank shooting, elbow or knee strikes, or buttstock blows. This does not negate damage already received.]
It was Zhou Ning's first time triggering the effect, and he quickly realized how powerful it was. Under Psychic Counter, it was as though his entire body had become a weapon: knees, elbows, close-range shots, even smashing with the gun's buttstock—every elf that brushed past him left with wounds of varying severity.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
He charged through the second encirclement and reached the railing of the second floor. From his sleeve, a grappling hook shot out like a serpent, latching onto the railing. Using the hook's momentum, he soared upward, his black cloak flaring as the spiderized elves behind him ignited with golden ripple-fire, lighting up the entire cathedral hall.
"mon-tia-joa-koh-ra!"
Behind him, Solia Lane's aged, gravelly voice rang out once more. Zhou Ning, rising along the hook's line, suddenly felt his mind reel. An instant later, his Phoenix Battle Suit tightened like a living thing, trying to strangle him, while above, the hook silently detached, slithering back toward him to bind him.
"It can do that?" Zhou Ning thought with alarm. This was the trouble with high-tier evil spirits—they could turn anything into a living weapon against their enemies.
Helpless, Zhou Ning quickly unequipped the Phoenix Battle Suit. The black armor cracked apart piece by piece, and he inevitably plummeted. Below, countless spiderized elves gathered, their hands reaching up. Zhou Ning had no doubt that if he fell into their midst, he'd be instantly torn apart.
But battle instinct, carved deep into his very being, gave him an immediate counter.
Once again, he switched weapons—this time to the Sword of Cortés, a blade that could command wind and rain within a certain radius.
"Hurricane!"
At his sharp command, a visible storm surge erupted beneath him. Zhou Ning felt weightless, like a boat tossed in a tempest, his body hurled upward again.
Thanks to his incredible agility, he stabilized mid-air, caught the railing with both hands, and with a pull, vaulted onto the second floor.
It was a small platform, lined with bookshelves filled with tomes. The center was open, and from the hollow space hung a massive bell. Suspended between two bookshelves was the mirror he had been searching for—almost within arm's reach.
But then, Solia Lane's frenzied chant filled his ears, accompanied by the sound of countless legs crawling. The darkness, already absolute, deepened even further, oppressive and devouring. The air thickened with cold, black spider silk sweeping toward him, suffocating.
"Run, hurry!" Molly's panicked voice cried in his mind.
With her aid, the spreading black threads ignited with bright white fire, forcing them back.
"jareron-te-joa-koe-ra!"
At once, a whisper like a voice from the soul echoed in Zhou Ning's ears. His body stiffened, his head pounding as though struck by an iron hammer, blood gushing from his nose.
Instinctively glancing back, he saw it—a colossal phantom spider crawling toward him.
Compared to the earlier shadow, this one was monstrously larger, grotesquely so, its body covered in countless compound eyes, its flanks writhing with black threads like tendrils from some unknowable being.
One glance, and Zhou Ning's eyes bled tears. His whole body trembled uncontrollably.
A line of thought seared his mind: "In occult studies, gods are higher-dimensional beings. Their existence exceeds human comprehension. Therefore, one must never look directly upon a god…"
This spider was clearly an apparition, without a foothold in reality. It could not possibly be the true descent of an Old God. Yet even as a projection of a mythic being, Zhou Ning's body froze, unable to move, compelled to bow before it.
At his sides, lumps of flesh bulged as if sprouting alien limbs not his own.
His health, focus, and willpower plummeted at a terrifying rate. His vision blurred rapidly.
1000/1000
950/1000
870/1000
...
The Old God's projection hadn't even struck—its divine presence alone left Zhou Ning powerless.
"This will probably be the last time I can help you." Molly's faint voice drifted into his ears.
Almost simultaneously, several buffs appeared on his body.
[Dispel: Archbishop Molly Cronin of the Ascetic Church has cast Dispel (Master Level) on you. The effect activates once every two seconds.]
[Psychic Soothing: Archbishop Molly Cronin of the Ascetic Church has cast Psychic Soothing (Master Level) on you. Your mental resistance is greatly increased for a short time.]
A white radiance enveloped Zhou Ning, burning away the spiderization effect. His body loosened, movement returning. He thanked Molly, then half-turned, wringing the last of his focus dry. Drawing his gun against the phantom spider, he fought through the terror and pulled the trigger.
This time, Goliath struck at the giant first!
[Your Evasive Shot dealt 1 point of damage to the projection of the Dark Spider Mother, Matalita!]
The shot enraged Matalita's projection. Her massive body writhed and lunged toward him, endless black silk surging. The entire second floor shook as though overturned, rumbling violently, the great bell in the center tolling from the tremors.
But using the recoil from Evasive Shot, Zhou Ning rolled nimbly to the mirror's side. In its surface, he saw the Dark Spider Mother and her countless threads closing in. Weak though he was, he grinned, making a mock pistol-to-temple gesture at her reflection in defiance.
Without hesitation, he pressed his hand to the mirror. The surface rippled like water, and his entire body sank into it.