Little Sam knew himself to be no match for an undead, let alone such a seemingly special undead existence. Escaping was clearly the best option, as the Wizard Druid and many of the Knights’ Order were outside.
Little Sam’s response was decisive and timely.
When the flame touched the farm owner’s ghost’s dark hand, the grip on his ankle visibly tightened for a moment.
It was this brief moment of tightening that gave little Sam the chance to leave. With his good foot, he gave the desk a hard kick, using the recoil to leap several meters away.
Upon landing, he rolled over without looking back at what was behind him, enduring the pain in his ankle, and dashed toward the corridor door.
When little Sam reached for the door’s lock, only a second had passed.
He twisted, the lock clicked open immediately.
Seeing the crack in the open door, hope arose in little Sam’s heart.
"There’s an undead attack!" "Help!" Without hesitation, little Sam pushed the door wide open, while shouting loudly.
But to his surprise, when the door opened, instead of a familiar corridor, he saw a room... the very room he was in.
He could even see the overturned chair and the slanted table in the room ahead. It was exactly what he knocked over when he lunged before.
But in front of him was his room, and behind him was also his room.
So where was he now?
For a moment, Little Sam was bewildered. He hesitated, turned his head, and looked at the room behind him, which was identical to the room in front of him.
It was like two different mirror spaces.
The ghost of the farm owner, in a bizarre and inhuman manner, slowly crawled out from the slanted table.
The rooms both in front and behind exhibited the same scene.
"Even the undead appeared twice?!" Little Sam was greatly shaken inside; could it be an illusion?
Little Sam couldn’t care less anymore. If one of the rooms was an illusion, he believed it must be the one in front of him. Steeling himself, he dashed forward.
However, after charging forward a distance, he clearly felt as though everything around him was real.
Whether it was the overturned chair, the walls on either side, or the touch of other furniture around him, nothing felt illusory.
Even the chilling aura emitted by the ghost of the farm owner in front was as real as could be.
Was his choice wrong?
As Little Sam began to doubt in his heart, he failed to notice the sinister smile on the ghost of the farm owner not far away.
With a dive, the ghost of the farm owner rushed to the front of Little Sam, its hand with long black nails directly gripping Sam’s neck.
Before Little Sam could react, his thin frame was lifted high by a tremendous force.
Unable to breathe and hanging in the air, Little Sam struggled desperately, but it was no use. The ghost of the farm owner wore a cruel smile as it mercilessly smashed Little Sam to the floor.
A cracking sound suddenly erupted.
This was the sound of Little Sam’s rib breaking in his chest.
While still in a half-dazed state from being slammed, footsteps sounded again behind him.
Another ghost of the farm owner from the room behind also came near Little Sam, its long tongue like a snake’s slithering past its lips. The eerie smile bore an inexplicable cruelty and delight.
Sharp nails, resembling beast claws, were aimed at Little Sam’s chest, poised to stab in fiercely.
Little Sam suppressed his discomfort, shifting slightly. Although the ghost’s hand didn’t pierce his chest, it still tore away a large chunk of flesh from his right hand.
Blood sprayed out, the loss of flesh revealing the ghastly white bone beneath.
Such terrifying force, if it had penetrated the chest, the outcome would have been unthinkable.
Though Little Sam narrowly escaped death once, hope was still nowhere to be seen. The ghosts of the farm owner in both rooms, both seemed real.
He couldn’t deal with even one, let alone two. Moreover, he was now seriously injured.
This time, was he really doomed to not escape?
...
When Angel arrived at the location of the timber factory, the sky had already become completely dark.
On usual days, the factory would be brightly lit inside, with even some carpenters working by lamp for coarse processing. But now, apart from a few places still lit, the rest of the factory was desolate.
Angel slowly walked toward the factory gate.
Just as he reached the gate, a undead with severe dark circles slowly rose from the ground.
This undead was Frode, who had been waiting here for quite some time.
"Master Pat." Frode expressed reverence with a bow, his eyes involuntarily looking towards Dangross, showing only half of a ’hand face’ clinging behind Angel, and towards the swirling breeze beside Angel.
He vaguely sensed that the hand and the omnipresent wind around seemed like two elemental creatures.
Could they be the elemental companions of Master Pat?
While Frode speculated, Angel’s spiritual power had already scanned the entire factory area.
"There are no undead discovered inside the factory. Some places have traces of dead energy remaining, with the most near the mirror." Angel paused, looking at Frode, "It seems your speculation is correct, this ghost of the farm owner is indeed a mirror grudge."
Frode: "Yes, I also checked and found no trace at all, I have no idea where that ghost ran off to."
"The Mirror Grudge’s soul interference capability is very unique, enabling quick transfers through mirrors. As long as the mirror is ample, its mobility even rivaling some Official Wizards, it’s normal for you not to spot it."
As long as mirrors exist, the Mirror Grudge can move swiftly, and this mobility is indeed quite terrifying.
Moreover, mirrors are everyday items in human life. It can be said that mirrors might have average capabilities in the wild, but in areas with human populations, it becomes quite terrifying, and its concealment ability is very strong.
"The best way to deal with a Mirror Grudge is by eliminating the presence of mirrors." Frode: "I already instructed the Knights’ Order to dismantle the mirrors in the factory, leaving only two."
Frode pointed at two doors not far away, corresponding to two warehouses, each containing a mirror.
The reason for not dismantling all of them was that without a mirror here, the Mirror Grudge simply wouldn’t come. Keeping two mirrors can effectively limit the Mirror Grudge’s movement range.
Angel had already noticed the two mirrors in the warehouses during his spiritual power check earlier. Both retained traces of dead energy, suggesting the Mirror Grudge resided in them before.
"Your idea is correct, but are you really sure you’ve only left two mirrors?" Angel said softly.
Prior to this, Frode had been absolutely certain, but with Angel’s questioning, it caused Frode to harbor a slight doubt. Could there be other mirrors not dismantled?
"There shouldn’t be any other mirrors." Hesitant for a moment, Frode still said. Although the task of dismantling mirrors was done by the Knights’ Order, Frode himself had also checked, confirming no remnants of mirrors.
Angel gave no reply and strode towards the factory interior.
Frode immediately followed.
Upon entering the factory, what filled the sight was a long, narrow passageway, with the large lumber processing area at the end. On both ends of the passage are various functional rooms and stairways leading to upper levels.
Angel did not enter the processing area but randomly pushed open a nearby room.
The room bore traces of habitation, but it was uninhabited.
Angel walked directly to the room’s window. Through the glass window, one could clearly see the deep, dark forest outside.
"Do you see it?"
"Ah?"
As Frode was puzzled, Angel extended his knuckle and lightly tapped the glass window.
The crisp knocking echo seemed to penetrate directly into Frode’s innermost thoughts.