The Queen of Scrolls never admits defeat

Moran also caught a glimpse of several underground caravans in the distance.

After discovering that she was alone, the gray dwarves or underground gnome guards looked at her like hyenas appraising cargo.

If Moran hadn't unleashed the magical pressure of his level 18 Shadow Walker, he probably would have already suffered more than one "accidental" raid.

Here, those who are alone are natural prey.

In addition, she discovered many man-made traps, most of which were not aimed at the monsters of the underworld, but at every passing traveler.

Some of the hollows may look like perfect shelters where you could spend the night safely, but in reality, the ceilings are covered with fine barbs coated with neurotoxins, which will fall down once you enter.

Some passages may seem flat and safe, but there may be trigger traps buried beneath the ground. Once, Moran even saw a strange ore stuck in a crevice in the rocks. Seeing that it was emitting a faint magical fluctuation, he took it out to see what kind of ore it was.

As soon as I picked it up, it exploded.

The person who placed it heard the explosion and immediately came to "collect the body".

Fortunately, Moran had a lot of automatically triggered protective magic on her, so the bomb only blew off her hood and did not cause her any damage.

The safer the environment, the more likely one is to encounter these man-made traps. Although they did not cause her any actual harm, they were still very annoying.

She then continued to choose dangerous places to go, and it wasn't until she reached the Dark Whisper Market that she entered the settlement of the underground race for the first time.

The Dark Whisper Market is a trading and intelligence exchange point located in a huge underground cavern.

This place is home to all sorts of underground inhabitants: pale or dark gray underground dwarves, taciturn gray dwarf merchants, travelers whose faces are obscured by heavy cloaks, and even some magical beasts with a certain level of intelligence.

Everyone was in a hurry, speaking in hushed tones, their eyes scanning their surroundings warily.

Moran pulled down the hood of his cloak, hiding most of his face in shadow.

Now, the aura of other professions on her body has been hidden, leaving only the pure darkness and shadow power of the Shadow Walker and Shadow Assassin.

As instructed by Viola, Moran needed to find a grey dwarf intelligence broker named "Old Scar" here to obtain the latest secure route and rotation password required to enter the core territory of the Nightshade Clan.

Viola's tone was unusually serious when she gave her explanation:
"The Shadow Elves of the Nightveil Clan are all top-notch assassins and intelligence experts in the underground world, and have made countless enemies."

For the safety of the clan's territory, the paths leading to the core area were designed like the most complex spider web maze, with natural caves and man-made passages intersecting, filled with numerous dead ends, looping paths, and deadly magical traps.

At every crucial crossroads, the most elite shadow assassins take turns guarding the area, hidden in the shadows and blending into their surroundings.

If you take the wrong path, you will be instantly identified as an 'intruder'.

There were no warnings, no questions, only a silent and deadly attack from the shadows.

Even members of the tribe, when returning after a period of absence, must strictly follow the prescribed route and carry the latest password.

The password changes weekly, is jointly formulated by several core elders within the clan, and is distributed through secret channels known only to internal personnel.

Even members like myself, who are on long-term missions, must obtain the latest passwords and route maps from designated 'messengers' or peripheral intelligence points like 'Old Scar' before each return. This is an ironclad rule, and no one is exempt.” Moran walked through the chaotic market, carefully avoiding those who were clearly looking at him with ill intent.

Finally, in the most remote corner, they found "Old Scar's" stall.

It was just a stall covered with dirty animal hides, on which were placed a few inconspicuous pieces of ore, some dried-up fungal specimens, and several suspicious-looking bottles containing unidentified liquids.

The stall owner was a one-eyed gray dwarf, and sure enough, there was a hideous scar on his face that ran diagonally from his forehead to his chin, making his already rugged face look even more ferocious.

He was smoking a stone pipe, puffing out clouds of smoke, and squinting at passersby with his remaining eye.

Moran walked over, not looking at the items on the stall, but whispering in the code Viola had taught him: "Moonlight cannot penetrate a deep well, but the undercurrent remembers its origin."

Old Scar paused in his smoking motion, his one eye sharply sweeping over Moran, a glint of shrewdness flashing in his murky eyes.

He exhaled a smoke ring and replied in the same deep voice, "The undercurrents return to the veil of night, at the cost of silent gems."

"The gem is here."

Moran placed a small bag of "glowing gems" that he had prepared beforehand on the animal skin at the stall.

This powder, made from specific underground minerals, is a hard currency in the underground world. It can be used in certain alchemy or enchanting applications, is valuable in itself, and is difficult to trace.

Old Scar used his stubby fingers to open the bag, glanced inside, nodded, quickly put the bag away, picked up his pipe again, took a deep drag, and lowered his voice even further:

"The code is correct, and the color and weight of the gem are also correct... But outsider, you are not a shadow elf, are you?"

This smell, from the surface? The concealment is good, but it can't fool my old eyes, which have been in the Dark Whisper Market for over three hundred years. The Nightveil Clan's password and core route aren't something just any Tom, Dick, or Harry can trade for with some valuables.

Especially for surface races, coded messages and rewards alone are not enough; they must have a sufficiently influential introducer!

Moran was already prepared; she took out the map Viola had given her, which bore Viola's mark.

Old Scar recognized its owner at a glance: "It was recommended by Lady Viola!"

His attitude had improved considerably. He casually fiddled with a piece of ore on his stall, revealing a roll of black parchment as thin as a cicada's wing underneath.

"Password: 'Follow the Shadow.' The path is behind you. Red marks indicate safe houses, blue marks indicate danger zones, and black marks indicate restricted areas... Don't go there."

He finished speaking quickly, slid the parchment to Moran, and then, as if nothing had happened, continued smoking his pipe, his gaze wandering elsewhere.

Moran picked up the parchment; it felt cool and slippery to the touch, like leather but not quite.

She didn't check it immediately, but quickly put it away and turned to blend into the crowd in the market.

Only after leaving the Whispering Market and shaking off several scheming adventurers did she take out the black parchment, memorize its contents, and then hurried towards the cave complex where the Nightveil Clan's territory was located. (End of Chapter)