Chapter 85: Family Creed Knight
Through the mirror, he could see a corridor wall—it was a mirror hanging on the hallway wall, facing the opposite side. With no lighting, visibility was extremely limited. The mirror only reflected a portion of the dim hallway, where the peeling and mottled paint on the wall could be seen.
Zhou Ning stared at the scene beyond the mirror without moving right away.
After quietly observing for a while and detecting no movement or sound outside, he hesitated only briefly before finally making up his mind to go out and take a look.
The Phoenix Battle Suit he was wearing had an extremely high frontal defense, far surpassing the level-60 version of the equipment. As long as he didn't run into some major boss, he figured he could handle it.
Based on several tests, there was a button on the right arm of the Phoenix Battle Suit that could fire a grappling hook. Once it latched onto a target, pressing another button would retract the cable and, by leveraging the counterforce, it would automatically pull Zhou Ning outward. If he couldn't win, escaping wouldn't be a problem either.
A truly smart person doesn't act unless they're sure.
He pressed his hand against the mirror. Immediately, ripples of arcane energy spread across the surface. Thanks to the function of [Damian's Ordinary Mirror], it felt like passing through a thin film as he slipped through the mirror and entered the building interior.
The hallway was longer than expected and carried a faint musty smell, clearly due to poor ventilation.
"Do you sense anything?" Zhou Ning asked in his mind.
"I sense a repressive evil."
Zhou Ning: …
Sis, could you speak normal human language?
A thick carpet covered the hallway floor, embroidered with intricate patterns. It was clear the owner of this house wasn't lacking in wealth.
After the brief exchange, Zhou Ning ignored Molly's cryptic reply and activated the night vision in the helmet of his Phoenix Battle Suit. He advanced silently, analyzing the situation with a calm mind.
This hallway stretched across the entire second floor. Both ends connected to balconies and staircases, forming a structure like the character 王. Rooms like bedrooms, bathrooms, studies, and sitting rooms lined both sides.
After several minutes of searching yielded nothing, Zhou Ning arrived at the stairwell.
Pausing for a moment in thought, he deliberately softened his steps and carefully began descending. Thanks to his remarkable agility and coordination, not even the wooden stairs made a single creak.
Through night vision, he could clearly see a living room below the stairs. Various antique-style furnishings were arranged with taste. Near the entrance stood two statues—lions' heads on human bodies. Above each statue was engraved the word "Lwenmensch."
But what caught Zhou Ning's attention first were the picture frames hanging on the wall.
They weren't oil paintings or decorations, but portrait sketches.
In ancestral homes, it was customary to hang portraits of past generations—a tradition that had been passed down since the days of the Farlic Kingdom centuries ago.
In occult circles, there's also a saying: hanging ancestral portraits in the home allows ancestors to watch over and protect the household.
At the same time, not far from this location in another mansion—
A middle-aged man dressed like a noble was reclining in a lounge chair in the sitting room, enjoying scones and cake. A charcoal fireplace burned warmly before him.
Suddenly, a portrait hanging nearby blinked, as if trying to convey a warning.
The middle-aged man's relaxed expression vanished in an instant. He rose sharply, strode over to the coat rack, pulled on a black hooded robe, and quickly headed for the door.
…
Just as Zhou Ning reached the bottom of the stairs, he suddenly heard approaching footsteps from afar. Acting swiftly, he fired his grappling hook at the ceiling. His body shot upward, clinging silently to the overhead beams. Moments later, a brown-haired man in a black robe passed by, holding a candlestick. He seemed to have heard something and swept his gaze around suspiciously but never looked up.
Zhou Ning waited calmly until the man had gone before silently retracting the grappling hook and landing without a sound.
Sure enough—he had spotted a black flame emblem on the man's chest. This place was indeed a base of the Curse God Cult.
Zhou Ning moved without a sound, trailing the black-robed cultist through an archway. What greeted him was a deep red altar, upon which sat a red idol.
It was a grotesque-looking deity, with countless tentacles sprouting from its shoulders and sides. Each tentacle was etched with an eye, some open, some closed, densely packed. Two massive goat horns protruded from its head.
Around the altar lay more than a dozen long-dead corpses, strewn haphazardly.
In front of the statue burned three candles arranged in an inverted triangle—a symbol of black magic and of corruption in the world of Revelation.
Surrounding the altar stood several cultist supplicants. A red energy beam connected each one to the statue, clearly channeling their life force in sacrifice.
"There's likely a sealed evil god beneath this place. I've seen a similar ritual long ago—they're trying to unseal it by offering up life force," Molly said in Zhou Ning's mind.
"I figured," Zhou Ning replied, taking a deep breath. He still had some explosives left in his inventory from last night's crafting session. He was seriously tempted to blow something up.
Suddenly, he felt a gaze fixed on him—intense and unblinking. He turned his head to find a portrait hanging on the wall.
The painting depicted a well-dressed gentleman—brown hair, icy blue eyes, a prominent nose, and a large mustache. A textbook Bryston aristocrat, rendered so vividly it felt as though they were making eye contact.
A name was inscribed on the frame: Norman Ri... Rive…
Before he could finish reading, a wave of icy air swept through the room.
The gentleman in the portrait blinked at him.
Zhou Ning: ? ? ? ?
Just then, his Observation Haki sent an overwhelming wave of danger through his senses. Jolted to the core, he bolted toward a nearby window without a second thought.
Bang! Bang!
All the windows around the house slammed shut at once, curtains drawing together.
Zhou Ning's pupils shrank. Not far ahead, a black-robed figure had appeared at some point.
The man's eyes radiated malice so intense that Zhou Ning's heart pounded wildly, a chill surging up from the depths of his soul.
"Mind Lash!" The black-robed man pointed a finger at Zhou Ning.
In an instant, Zhou Ning felt like he'd been struck in the head with a hammer. His vision swam, dizziness overtook him, and something warm began trickling from his nose.
-128! A shocking damage number! Nearly half of his 270 HP was gone in a flash.
No time to think—Zhou Ning instinctively made the best possible move. His revolver appeared in his hand as he launched a Fatal Countershot. While leaping backward, a bullet coated in Armament Haki streaked toward the black-robed man.
[Your Fatal Countershot hit ???. Armament Haki weakened their defense. You dealt 239 true damage!]
The bullet struck true, but the enemy's health bar barely budged. The figure bent his knees slightly and chanted:
"All things are forged by the will of man!"
In the next moment, Zhou Ning felt a powerful pressure crash down on him—his body froze, locked in place for a brief instant.
He stared in disbelief.
A Family Creed Knight!
That bastard was actually a Family Creed Knight!