Demon Hunter and His Cabin

"This might seem powerful in your eyes, but with your current capability, there's no way you can break through again on this plane."

"It's not your fault, it's just that your ability is meant to be this way."

"What is a Demon Hunter?" the Lord of the Mist chuckled.

"A bane of monsters?"

"A cold-blooded executioner, or perhaps a freak in the eyes of ordinary people?"

There was no concealment, the disdain of the Lord of the Mist was etched in every expression on his face.

"You are merely weapons, like blades and daggers, and we are the ones holding those weapons tightly."

"Perhaps the situation is truly dire, perhaps there are countless Demon Hunters like you, after all, your targets are smaller, less likely to attract the attention of the entire plane."

"Little by little, there might be unexpected gains."

"So, although I don't like it, if our goals align, I can barely tolerate it..."

Roger understood the implication of the Lord of the Mist. It seems that the only one who might truly understand this person is the Primordial Dragon. All other so-called understandings are just speculative guesses.

But it was Hamza who was pushed to the forefront by the Lord of the Mist.

No, perhaps he didn't mean it, many things were Hamza's own decisions.

It seemed that, in an instant, Roger resolved the greatest crisis looming over him, and since he and the Lord of the Mist came from the same place, with aligned goals, they looked like not only foes but potential comrades.

Yet, noticing the expression of the Lord of the Mist, Roger's mood was not relaxed, there were still many questions in his heart unanswered.

"Why don't you leave here?"

"Is there something you haven't obtained, or is someone stopping you from leaving?"

Roger asked.

The Lord of the Mist was far more powerful than he was, having operated in this plane for countless years, with resources in his hands beyond imagination.

Yet, his obsession was so deep, if conditions were met, he should have left here long ago.

"Is it the Primordial Dragon?" Roger tentatively asked.

"That woman?!" the Lord of the Mist snorted disdainfully, "Is she worthy?"

"Humph, the last war, if it weren't for her ambush, I would have controlled the entire plane long ago, and wouldn't have had to wait through another cycle so painstakingly..."

Mid-sentence, the Lord of the Mist suddenly shut his mouth.

"Oh... have you seen her?"

"Probably not." Without waiting for Roger to answer, he shook his head self-absorbed.

"A despicable creature who only knows how to flaunt her body." The Lord of the Mist seemed very contemptuous of certain behaviors of the Primordial Dragon.

"What are you worried about? Worried that we might fail?"

"Worried that we can't find our way home?"

"Or..." he leaned forward, and an invisible pressure enveloped Roger.

"You don't want to go back?"

His eyes were filled with danger as if an attack could be launched the next second.

"Don't be beguiled by the life before you; you're a passerby here, your home is in Rivia, do you miss the ale there?"

"And the passionate women."

"Moreover... once I leave, with the plane's source missing, even if it doesn't immediately perish, it would probably face an irreversible catastrophe."

"So..."

"I have no choice." Roger added.

He slowly bowed his head, examining the only two cards remaining in his hand.

A peculiar situation, if Roger played his last two cards, he would win this game of Gwent Card by a slim margin.

But if he changed the order of his play or chose to fold...

Every careless move is deliberate, could it be that, unknowingly, I have been influenced?

"You never gave me a choice." Roger sighed deeply.

"I've said it before, you are merely weapons, and I am the one holding the weapon."

"As for when to raise the weapon and when to lower it, that depends on its master."

"Huh."

A short note issued from his throat.

"What if I refuse?"

"Then I can only say you're very foolish."

"Unfortunately, I didn't discover your presence the first moment you arrived in this world. At that time, I was still asleep..." the Lord of the Mist muttered.

"But it's not too late now, I can help you grow, even help you find your way home."

"The way home?"

Roger hung his head low, a flicker of confusion crossing his eyes.

The door home was hidden in the deepest part of the Hunter's Cabin, and he could push it open at any time if he wished. This path required no search; it appeared automatically once Roger's power reached a certain level.

But according to the Lord of the Mist...

"As for that woman, this time I will personally kill her. Heh, she probably doesn't know yet, but for this final battle, I've prepared a big surprise for her!"

"Squeak!"

Roger stood up, pushing the chair away, and walked to the nearest window.

With a slight force, the tightly shut window opened, and the north wind swept into the room. From his position, he looked down and saw a magnificent city.

The castle was likely built on a mountaintop, and the moisture in the air and the cold brought by the whistling wind made everything seem real.

Roger's gaze swept across, he saw the crowded people in the city, but unfortunately, he couldn't hear any sound.

Because each person here was standing still like a statue, as if the world had frozen at this moment.

"In the past, I once simulated the entire city, but later it all annoyed me. The more real they looked, the more I hated it."

"So I prefer the whole city to remain still, thus constantly reminding myself that everything is an illusion; this is not my home."

With his head lowered, Roger saw a desolate cemetery not far away.

On the only large tree in the cemetery stood dozens of crows, and below the tree were some tombstones placed randomly.

All the tombstones bore the same name.

Roger's heart skipped a beat, and he turned to see the Lord of the Mist's expressionless eyes.

"The game isn't over yet."

He lightly tapped the table, and the Gwent Cards placed on it trembled slightly.

Right now, Roger didn't even have the qualification to stay out of everything.

Either nod and survive.

Or die with everyone else.

Roger quickly made his decision, returned to the table, sat down, took a deep breath, and calmly played the last two cards in order.

"Heh, at least the common people rolling in the mud got one thing right, Demon Hunters really are like monsters."

"Both brainless!"

As he spoke, Roger wanted to launch an attack.

The longsword on his back trembled slightly, cycling through the five Sword Seals.

But all the power sank like a stone into the sea.

The sun on the Lord of the Mist's forehead enveloped everything, swallowing all the power Roger released.

"Dharma Seal... a more advanced application method?"

With a disdainful laugh, "Don't you know where these powers come from?"

"In my view, this is a crude joke."

As he spoke, he opened his hand, the invisible force pressed down, and Roger watched as the five Sword Seals on the longsword dimmed one by one, nearly crushed into a ball!

"Poof!"

This weapon was almost indestructible, but only if Roger's own life...

"For the sake of this Gwent game, I didn't intend to kill you, but it's a pity."

The longsword wailed and turned into a heap of scrap iron.

Roger himself was drenched in blood, and then he saw a tattered body.

It was the soul.

Roger's body and soul had already merged into one, but in the attack just now, his body completely died, becoming a pile of lifeless flesh!

"Your soul is still useful, it's a pity, if you were willing to cooperate, things didn't have to be this way."

The Lord of the Mist reached out to grasp Roger.

Roger's soul opened its eyes; he knew death was imminent but felt no fear in his heart.

He had once thought of yielding.

But facing someone like the Lord of the Mist, lies were utterly meaningless; the body could lie, but the soul could not.

In fact, when the Lord of the Mist had Roger play his cards, he had already seen through Roger's thoughts at that time.

Which is why he explained later.

And Roger had not changed his determination.

"Let it be."

Although filled with regret, he still kept a smile.

Death was unavoidable unless a miracle happened.

Chi!

With a soft noise, the arm of the Lord of the Mist was severed at the elbow, and at the same time, a voice rang out.

"Nassero, long time no see."