Demon Hunter and His Cabin
Chapter 872 - 667: Disguise_2

Chapter 872: Chapter 667: Disguise_2

At the same time, a crimson scale flickered between her brows.

"Get away!"

Amanda pushed both hands forward, waves of heat surging around her. Though she had only recently advanced to the Fourth Tier, the power she unleashed in this moment far exceeded her current level.

"There have always been rumors that you inherited the purest Flame Dragon bloodline. Now it seems, even if there are impurities, its purity is still terrifyingly high."

"But what a pity..."

"No matter how powerful, it’s meaningless if you can’t use it."

Amanda frowned as she noticed the mist dissipating around her. Yet this was not good news, for when the fog lifted, the scenery had completely transformed.

"Is this an illusion... or...?"

"What exactly is this guy’s ability?"

Amanda was still pondering when suddenly, a dense malicious intent enveloped her, and a chilling voice echoed in her ear.

"Got you, my girl..."

Muska’s eyes gleamed like venomous snakes as he extended a finger. Encased in a bright yellow light, it lightly tapped toward the back of Amanda’s head.

"Become my plaything!"

Muska’s face twisted into an excited grin.

His blood surged violently, and a faint image of a feathered giant serpent emerged behind him.

The serpent’s body was not covered in scales, but bizarre feather-like growths that appeared monstrous and grim. Even its eyes shone with a human-like glint.

But just then, Muska suddenly realized the barrier around him had been torn apart by brute force, and a massive hand landed on his shoulder.

"Finally found you!"

Hearing that voice, Muska’s eyes widened dramatically.

"It’s you... how...?"

"Crack!"

A sharp sound of bone fracturing came from his body, and Muska felt half of himself being shattered. The next second, his form vaporized, quickly retreating into the distance.

As he turned his head in haste, Muska caught sight of the towering figure and the mutilated head held in its hand.

Manu was dead.

Muska couldn’t even comprehend what had happened.

"It’s only been how long?"

"With Manu’s defensive power? This is too fast; he didn’t even have time to warn me!"

Though Manu was short in stature, his head was disproportionately massive. Now, that grotesque head had been punctured by something hard, leaving a horrific cavity.

"This guy actually disguised himself as you, trying to get close to me." Amanda’s voice echoed from a distance.

Roger casually tossed Manu’s head aside.

"Rest assured, he won’t escape!"

Reappearing again, Muska was shocked to find his wounds incapable of healing. Fear arose in his heart as he cast an intense glare at Roger.

"Geralt, I’ll remember you... Agh...!"

Muska barely managed to scream before his body was completely seized.

At that moment, the burly man Muska hated so much merely opened his hand and moved forward.

"You... you..."

"What is this power?"

"Who are you?"

Muska finally realized the crux of the matter—the man before him was incomparably stronger.

The gulf between their strengths was immeasurable, far too vast for any scheme or strategy to bridge.

"Why did you ambush us?" Roger asked.

"If I tell you, will you... Agh!"

Before Muska could finish speaking, Roger clenched his hand sharply.

He had already reached the level of an Extreme Path Sword Master in the Everworld, though he didn’t know the precise equivalent in the Western Transcendent World.

But within the Fourth Tier, unless encountering a monstrous exception like Sword Master Cold Crow, Roger could reasonably claim invincibility.

Muska’s power was eerie, but the difference between him and Roger was astronomical. Roger also gave him no chance to negotiate.

He crushed Muska’s body without hesitation.

Though his body was destroyed, Muska’s bloodline powers dispersed, and his consciousness and soul merged into it, transforming into a faint crimson shadow struggling desperately.

"Is this even worthy of being called Dragonborn?" Roger frowned.

"Isn’t this too weak?"

Amanda rolled her eyes. "Do you really need me to praise you as strong for you to feel satisfied?"

"Fine." But she sighed helplessly right afterward.

"Actually, this guy isn’t weak at all. In our little circle, he’s considered one of the top-tier strong ones."

"He’s from the southern continent. The bloodline he inherited can even be traced back to legendary creatures from those lands."

"The Feathered Serpent—a very peculiar being, skilled in spiritual control and illusion creation, incredibly strange."

"And troublesome to deal with."

With that, Amanda glanced at Muska, who had been crushed in Roger’s hand.

"Of course, no comparison to you."

Hearing this, Roger nodded in satisfaction, but soon heard Amanda continue, "After all, you’re someone who could rival dragons..."

"Ahem, I don’t think now’s the time to discuss that."

Roger had to interrupt Amanda.

Jokes aside, he couldn’t let them disrupt his normal life.

Roger applied relentless pressure, rapidly consuming Muska’s bloodline power. His consciousness began to blur.

Using the Axis Dharma Seal, Roger accessed Muska’s awareness and quickly extracted the information he desired.

"The Dragon’s Sanctuary—have you heard of it?"

Roger inquired.

Amanda nodded, then recounted everything she knew to Roger.

"Very peculiar." He quickly noticed the oddities within the situation.

"Seems like all the secrets are hidden within this so-called sanctuary."

Roger muttered to himself.

Finishing his words, he exerted more strength, completely annihilating Muska’s bloodline awareness, leaving only a pitiful echo of its scream.

Meanwhile, two figures had already arrived ahead of them at the mountain peak’s temple.

The closer Viola got, the more distinctly she sensed the throbbing emanating from the structure before her.

In her perception, it seemed less like a building and more like a coiled giant dragon.

Thump, thump, thump!

Viola’s heart pounded fiercely. As she approached, clear patterns emerged upon the temple’s walls.

"This place..."

Rumors about the so-called Dragon’s Temple had always been mere hearsay. The association was rife with various claims, but few could distinguish truth from fiction.

However, Viola was now certain—whether or not this was the Dragon’s Sanctuary, it promised her tremendous fortune.

Viola had forgotten everything around her, walking forward in unison with her heartbeat.

The wall’s patterns formed new configurations, gradually sculpting glyphs into mural-like images.

"This is the origin—the very source of all bloodlines!"

Viola exclaimed in awe.

She stepped into the temple.

"A miracle!"

"Ha ha, this is truly a miracle!"

From the floor to the columns, strange patterns spread from the walls and converged at the ceiling.

The simple outlines intertwined, enhancing the energy around her and becoming vivid scenes in Viola’s eyes.

"Shadow Dragon, Flame Dragon, The Fallen, and that—Lord of the Ice. Nearly every bloodline can be found here!"

"Magnificent!"

Viola couldn’t hide her excitement, stepping slowly into the center of the hall. Her own bloodline power seemed to activate some dormant energy.

The ground quivered, and intricate patterns surfaced on the temple’s supporting columns.

The designs grew more distinct, and Viola’s face showed increasing bewilderment.

"That man... wasn’t he just...?"

On one of the columns appeared a face twisted in agony.

No, it didn’t simply appear.

The man was imprisoned within the column.

A chill ran through Viola’s body as she became alert, her mind spiraling toward a chilling realization.

"Could this place be...?"

Scanning her surroundings frantically, she soon spotted similar figures within other columns.

"There’s something wrong with this place!"

Realizing the danger, Viola contemplated retreat.

But at that moment, a voice suddenly sounded from the entrance.

"No need to leave so soon—space is limited, Ms. Viola, and your choices are few."

Viola turned toward the voice, finding the overly cautious young man now appearing strangely sinister.

"Marco, you..."

Viola’s words abruptly ended as she watched subtle changes take place on the youthful face.

"There is no Marco, dear Ms. Viola, I have no such son."

"Justin, so you’re alive?!"

Viola said coldly.