Chapter 318: The Seeming Return of an Old Acquaintance

"You dare defy the will of the Crow Queen?!"

Among the Shadow Spirits, Dark Weavers lacked the formidable close-combat prowess of Shadow Dancers. However, the Crow Queen’s grace had bestowed upon them all manner of powerful Shadow Magic. This allowed the lone Shadow Spirit to hold its ground, if only for a short while, against the assault of Ron’s entire party.

But that was the extent of it.

"The only one who can command me now is Her Highness Gracia!" Yelena’s Thorn Chain whipped toward the Dark Weaver’s neck, but it was blocked by a Shadow Spear. The spiky chain and the jet-black spear locked together instantly. Their strength was evenly matched, and neither could seize the opportunity to disarm the other.

Both Shadow Dancers and Dark Weavers were lone wolves, but the latter were often accompanied by ravens, which usually put Shadow Dancers at a disadvantage. This time, however, the tables had turned.

The Dark Weaver whistled, calling for his companion, but two bird cries echoed from mid-air. A bronze heron, using its heavy build, was chasing the raven, sending feathers flying as the smaller bird fled in every direction. The animal companion was in no position to help.

Down on the ground, the Dark Weaver heard the whistle of a powerful gust of wind tearing through the air straight for his head, but he couldn’t see his attacker at all. It wasn’t until he hastily raised another short spear to block that the Tiffling revealed himself, emerging from invisibility.

This horned, tailed freak wasn’t the least bit discouraged that his sneak attack had been blocked. The Dark Weaver watched as the man gave him a wicked grin, dropped his staff, and raised a pair of fists the size of clay pots to smash him!

"Armor of Aegasis!" Realizing he’d fallen for it, the Dark Weaver was nearly scared out of his wits. A protective Magic Power instantly enveloped him, condensing into a spectral layer of frost over his body.

How could such a flimsy Magic Armor withstand a body tempered by years of training? Quest’s powerful fists shattered the layer of frost into a flurry of ice with irresistible force. But the Dark Weaver seized that fleeting opportunity. He decisively let go of his weapon, flickered, and vanished, escaping the pincer attack from Yelena and Quest.

Having momentarily escaped close quarters, the Dark Weaver unleashed a torrent of Magic filled with Shadow Energy. As one of the most well-known and active denizens of the Shadowfall Netherworld, the Shadow Spirit displayed superb combat expertise. He traded blows with Aive and Victoria, using Withering Magic and Vampire’s Touch. Then, he would conjure advanced Phantoms to disrupt Ron and Delaford’s shots. Magic Energy Bursts exploded across the battlefield as if they cost him nothing, forcing Victoria to cast Protective Magic to keep her companions from falling prey to his attacks.

Ron’s party had the advantage in numbers, but the darkness was the Shadow Spirit’s home turf. As long as their opponent remained cautious, defeating him would be no easy feat.

Worse still, a "burden of time" seemed to indiscriminately afflict every creature that got near the Dark Weaver. This inescapable suppression left the party incredibly passive against his Magic. On several occasions, Ron was certain they were about to take down the Shadow Spirit, but it always found some loophole to escape, throwing the battle back into chaos.

"Compulsion! Confusion! Fear! Hypnosis!" The Dark Weaver sneered as he kicked away the paralyzed Delaford. He had already realized something. ’These people have a variety of tricks, but they lack raw power. I’m gradually regaining control of this fight!’

’These creatures from the Material Plane are just as inferior as I remember. I just need to drag this out a little longer. I’m seventy, no, eighty percent confident I can finish this mission by myself, bring the traitor Yelena’s soul and body back to the Shadowfall Netherworld, and present them to the supreme Crow Queen!’

’All I need is for this former Shadow Dancer to show the slightest opening...’

The Dark Weaver materialized another short spear, holding it in one hand to fend off Yelena’s relentless close-quarters assault while his other hand stealthily reached for his lower back.

’There, I have an Enchanted hourglass. When the time is right, I can use it to capture Yelena and make a quick escape. No matter how tenacious these creatures are, they can’t possibly chase me into the Shadowfall Netherworld, can they? The tale of how I completed this mission single-handedly is sure to please the Crow Queen!’

The Dark Weaver reversed his grip on the spear, using the shaft to parry an arrowhead wreathed in fiery rays. He then flipped into the air, causing the Thorn Chain striking at his legs to hit nothing but air. But as he created distance once more, his expression turned ugly.

His left hand reached for his lower back again. Empty. It was completely empty.

’Where’s my hourglass?’

"Looking for this?" a mocking voice sounded from his side. The Dark Weaver whipped his head around to see that annoying Martial Monk leaning against a nearby stone platform, casually tossing a small, delicate hourglass in his hand.

The Dark Weaver was certain that this Magic Item only revealed its true form when activated. Otherwise, it was nothing more than an ordinary trinket. ’It was specially designed to capture our brethren who betray the Shadow Spirit community and the Shadowfall Netherworld to flee to the Material Plane. With this design, even the strictest inspections on the Material Plane can’t uncover its secrets, allowing us Dark Weavers to avoid unnecessary conflict with local organizations.’

’But how did this Tiffling figure that out?’

The Dark Weaver’s Spiritual Power tried to probe the Martial Monk’s mind. But like most Cultivators, the Tiffling’s mental barriers were as solid as a fortress, completely impenetrable. The Dark Weaver suspected that even if this creature were nothing but a soul, he would still be one of the toughest nuts to crack.

"Want to know why?"

Quest sensed the attempt to invade his mind. It didn’t alarm him; in fact, he found it laughable. The Tiffling’s signature features began to fade from his body, and under the Shadow Spirit’s horrified gaze, the form of a doppelganger was revealed. "This is why."

"A Shapeshifter..." The Dark Weaver was momentarily speechless. "You... Does that mean you’re all..."

"Don’t overthink it," the Martial Monk sneered, tossing the hourglass into the air again. "It’s just me here. Huh?"

The hourglass didn’t come back down. At the same time, Quest noticed everyone, including the male Shadow Spirit, staring at something behind him with a strange expression.

’A gargoyle?’ Quest instantly spun and threw an elbow at the potential enemy behind him. According to his Perception, the blow should have landed square in the face, yet it felt like he had struck an iron plate.

"You—" Quest stumbled back two steps in horror, staring at the being who had just taken his elbow strike to the face without flinching.

Her white hair drifted in the wind, and her scarlet eyes were set in a delicate face adorned with heavy, dark makeup. While her outer robe was exceptionally ornate and aristocratic, the clothes underneath looked strangely familiar. Furthermore, her Walking Stick was nowhere to be seen. In its place, held between her slender fingers, was the very hourglass Quest had just tossed into the air.

"Sil-Silvia?!" the Priest of Heim was the first to cry out.