Demon Hunter and His Cabin
Chapter 866 - 664: Land of the Dragonborn_2

Chapter 866: Chapter 664: Land of the Dragonborn_2

"No, don’t."

Amanda felt her body weaken, her voice so soft it even surprised herself.

"You’re too overwhelming like this, tone it down. This level of aura will make others uneasy..."

Roger nodded upon hearing this.

Amanda’s considerations were meticulous. As thoughts swirled in his mind, the aura emanating from Roger subsided. It remained heavy and vast but lacked that oppressive supremacy over all creation.

"How about now?"

"It’s just right."

Amanda nodded in satisfaction.

In the real world, for ordinary transcendents who reach Fourth Tier, their power growth faces immense limitations.

Additionally, high-tier transcendents often need to employ special methods to fully unleash their potential.

Reality is like a lake, while creatures like Roger—more akin to beings from the ocean—would naturally feel discomfort upon entering here.

Moreover, their forceful intrusion, if left unchecked, would inevitably have an impact on the surrounding world.

Restraint and moderation.

Only unleash when necessary.

Of course, Roger had a hunch that the supposed entrance to the Land of the Dragonborn existed in the real world, but where they ultimately reached might actually be a realm similar to Everworld.

As Amanda had said, under such circumstances, hiding one’s strength aptly was essential.

Roger’s primary goal was to help Amanda resolve her troubles. Observing the journey was always preferable to becoming a target.

"Then it’s settled. Get ready; we’ll depart anytime."

Roger stood up from the ground, his height visibly increasing. For the coming period, he needed to maintain this state.

After a brief adjustment, he would have to prepare again. Moreover, there were some trivial matters to arrange before leaving.

"Wait."

Before Roger could leave, Amanda suddenly called out to him from behind.

He turned back, his face full of confusion.

"What’s the matter?"

"Interesting." Amanda gave Roger an up-and-down glance, her gaze lingering, seemingly unintentionally but noticeably.

"Maybe we could...?"

Roger’s face darkened.

"Really? You’re not done yet, are you?"

Though his mouth refused, his body was very honest.

...

Faku International Airport.

As altitude steadily decreased, Roger’s gaze fell to the city beneath the window.

It seemed as though not much time had passed since the battle at Faku Iron Tower was etched into his memory.

But now, nearly all the transcendents who had fought alongside him, and those opposing him, were no longer around.

The path of transcendence grows lonelier toward the end.

This brought an inexplicable reminder to Roger of the Demon Hunters.

In the gaming world he remembered, Demon Hunters underwent destructive transformations driven by alchemy potions. Their bodies mutated as they accepted commissions, eking out paltry rewards through battles with monsters.

Neither humanity nor aberrations acknowledged them. Forever alone, they journeyed onward.

"What are you thinking about?"

Amanda placed her hand softly on Roger’s palm and asked gently, keenly catching a slight shift in his gaze.

Roger said nothing, turning back to her with a simple smile.

Before departing, Roger had left behind certain arrangements at Kaer Morhen.

These measures were better suited to safeguarding the castle.

Unless a Fifth Tier transcendent went mad, ordinary Fourth Tiers wouldn’t stand a chance entering the place—it would be a one-way trip, with no return.

The plane landed, and Roger and Amanda blended in, queueing like ordinary travelers to disembark. What followed was utterly mundane.

A private car awaited them, followed by a helicopter transfer deep into the mountains upon reaching the Faku outskirts.

The landscape of the mountain region was idyllic. This entire valley was meticulously refined, evident from myriad details showcasing the owner’s aesthetic taste.

Before long, the helicopter descended at a grandiose castle.

To be honest, most European castles struck Roger as overly dilapidated and decrepit, even if refurbished.

Regardless of how they were adorned, their inherent function left them feeling eternally mismatched.

But the castle before him was clearly an exception.

"The owner here is named Justin Finley," Amanda’s voice rang softly near his ear, ensuring their words wouldn’t be heard by others. "If you’ve studied the local history, you should find this name familiar."

Roger frowned in thought.

"That surname?"

"He’s lived for over 300 years?"

Amanda nodded.

"The precise number is 347 years."

"The virtues and flaws of traditional nobility—you’ll find every single one of them in his being," Amanda remarked with a smile.

"You’ll see soon enough. His reception won’t feel so transcendent after all."

Roger wasn’t particularly moved by this.

The two descended from the helicopter, but just then, the castle erupted with a surge of formidable energy. Though the ordinary people around didn’t sense anything, Roger heard a faint roar of fury.

"Do you dare deceive us?"

"Do you truly believe you can withstand the wrath of two Fourth Tiers?"

Amanda was slightly startled. The two exchanged glances before simultaneously making their way forward.

In the grand hall of the castle, a handsome young man trembled as he knelt on the floor.

His face was pale, his knees slightly sunken, the ground where they connected stained with blood.

The young man’s body emitted the strained, cracking sound of overburdened bones. He struggled to raise his head, trembling, and said, "Mr. Muska, please let me explain..."

"’Mister’?"

"What led you to believe you could address me this way?"

An icy, cutting voice reverberated. Its source was a tall, lanky middle-aged man.

His skin, mildly darkened, bore the healthy hue of someone accustomed to sunlight. His hollowed cheeks lent his prominent, sharp nose a sinister air.

His inky black hair was tied lazily at the back of his head. His voice wasn’t loud, but the room seemed to shudder with every word he uttered.

"Forgive me..."

"Lord Muska, I did not intend to deceive."

By now, Roger and Amanda joined the hall.

"Him?" Amanda faltered briefly.

"I knew Justin would invite others, but I didn’t expect Muska to be among them."

Roger remained silent. The tall, lanky man before him seemed to have concealed his true strength, yet precisely how much was beyond Roger’s discernment.

The foundation of this man’s power appeared to stem from bloodline energy, though its specific nature was foreign to Roger.

Under a shared set of rules, the Western World produced many diverse branches.

Years ago in Bordeaux alone, Roger had encountered Exorcists, Spirit Mediums, Demon Hunters, and Voodoo Sorcerers.

On mainland Europe, he’d seen Druids, Heritage Knights, and Magicians.

But within mere moments of sensing him, this man named Muska had left Roger with a decidedly bad impression.

He felt a malicious intent akin to the stare of a venomous snake.

This might not have been intentional on the man’s part, but it was enough to put Roger on alert.

"Muska is exceedingly powerful, but he’s from the southern region of Armenia," Amanda added in explanation.

Piecing together the current world map, Roger mused further.

The southern region of Armenia—a territory home to Earth’s vastest primordial rainforest. Its location connected with Armenia, yet its power heritage was starkly distinct.

Armenian transcendence aligned more closely with Europe.

Whereas the southern region Amanda described carried an air of mystery.

The duo refrained from acting rashly, while under Muska’s oppressive presence, the handsome young man’s face turned grim.

The veins of his forehead seemed ready to burst at any moment.

Though pitiable at first glance, the young man was undoubtedly a peak Third Tier.

"Lord Muska, please listen to my explanation. I truly did not intend to deceive you..." the young man stammered through broken sentences.

"The invitation was indeed sent in my father’s name, but this wasn’t deception. Rather, I had no choice but to seek your help in another way!"

His spine cracked audibly as he bent his body lower.

"My father is dead."

"The so-called Land of the Dragonborn is a trap!"

"I have a sense... I won’t live much longer either!"