"Demon Hunter, you need to understand your own identity!"
"The one who should have figured this out is you."
Roger raised his head.
"I’ve seen two people trapped in the Shadow World, and the long confinent made their personalities undergo strange changes."
"I think no one understands the power of ti better than you. It changes everything. You choose to sit and talk to now, but maybe one day you’ll co to willingly."
"Not even to talk, perhaps to let beat you up."
After speaking, Roger stood up, pushed the door, and walked into his cabin, leaving the Lord of the Mist standing alone.
"Ti... Ti."
Roger’s indifference left the Lord of the Mist with no outlet for his emotions. He gritted his teeth and returned to the place he once stayed.
Ti has no aning here, but for Roger and the others, it’s a reality.
Roger imrsed himself in building the cabin, and whenever he quieted down and relaxed, he seed to feel those familiar auras.
So compared to the Lord of the Mist, he was much calr.
The cabin’s area began to increase, and other facilities appeared by the lake. Each addition made Roger feel a bit stronger.
Slowly, Roger grew stronger, while the Lord of the Mist declined.
Roger knew his strength ca partly from organizing existing rules, but more importantly from the training base he had built.
Those insignificant Demon Hunters, each possibly small, yet gathered together, could even support Roger in the seal.
As rootless water, the decline of the Lord of the Mist was inevitable.
One day, Roger would grow strong enough to easily kill him.
And so, one day.
Let’s assu there’s a concept of days here.
Because the Lord of the Mist noticed that young man always led a regular life. When he finished work, it marked the end of a day.
And when he pushed open the door, it signified the start of a new day.
The Lord of the Mist ca to the Hunter’s Cabin door once again, but compared to the last eting, there was now a garden, a rocking chair, and countless other facilities.
Apart from the lack of sunrise and sunset, he even vaguely heard bears growling and wolves howling from the bushes behind the cabin.
All the changes completely exceeded his understanding, but by then, the Lord of the Mist was in no mood to think about these.
He stepped forward and rang the bell hanging at the door.
Ding-a-ling.
The monotonous sound now sounded incredibly pleasant.
Creaaak.
The door was pushed open from inside, and Roger appeared before the Lord of the Mist with a cat in his arms.
A cat...
Why was there a cat here?
The thought flickered by, and the Lord of the Mist steadied himself.
"I sensed it, in your room..." He stared into Roger’s eyes.
"You know the way ho, don’t you?"
Roger didn’t respond. After a long ti, he let out a breath.
"Indeed."
"The answer has always been with you; I actually overlooked it." He shook his head dejectedly.
Roger said nothing, took a step back, and reached for the handle on the door.
"Wait."
The Lord of the Mist’s expression turned solemn.
"Let’s make a deal."
"Not interested." Roger refused without hesitation.
"Then how about a wager?"
"I can even give you my stake first."
As he spoke, he reached into his chest.
"My stake is my soul!"
"It’s my life."
Divine light flickered in the eyes of the Lord of the Mist.
"This is a gamble you are destined not to lose."
Roger paused his steps.
"What do you want to bet?"
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