Demon Hunter and His Cabin
Chapter 919 - 690: Be a Person_2

Chapter 919: Chapter 690: Be a Person_2

The blood sprayed out transformed into a flame the moment it left Jora.

Though small, the flame’s power was terrifying.

It instantly melted the glacier ahead of Jora, then plunged deep, deep into the earth.

"Not human!"

"You are not human!"

Roger’s face flashed in her mind. Jora felt she was nearing the truth.

This kind of humiliation was something she could never accept, no matter the circumstances. She had endured the entire ordeal passively, effectively becoming an active participant.

So even though she couldn’t understand what had just happened, just thinking of that scene, thinking of one after another...

"Ugh..."

Jora opened her mouth and spat more blood.

The blood transformed into flames, quickly spreading outward.

Her earlier shouts had already disrupted the weaker areas of the glacier, and the addition of two flames accelerated the collapse.

Like a toppled domino, the glacier began to tremble under a great rumbling sound.

But at this moment, Jora was utterly indifferent to the changes in the outside world. Her eyes widened with fury, and a single thought consumed her.

To kill that man at any cost.

No, those men!

But the next moment, the injuries in her body suddenly erupted, causing her vision to spin.

Jora realized the wounds she’d been suppressing.

Heyman was manageable—Jora could fully comprehend the level of his power—but the strange man accompanying him had inflicted the deepest wounds through frequent sneak attacks.

Now, with her unstable emotions, compounded by the expulsion of precious Dragon Marrow, things grew worse, and Jora collapsed, her whole body softening as she fainted.

"Just you wait..."

"I will kill you!"

"Dora, my poor sister, it’s your elder sister who failed to protect you..."

In the distance, loud rumblings echoed. Jora had only enough energy to cast a layer of defense over herself before she completely lost consciousness.

What she didn’t know was that, at this very moment, miles away, "Dora" was living in utter delight.

Oh, at the very least, it was Dora’s body.

Darkness. Endless darkness.

Jora slowly opened her eyes, her body weak beyond compare. Her wounds hadn’t improved; instead, they had worsened.

A small groan escaped her nose, and her eye twitched slightly. She clenched her fist, trying to push herself up from her confinement, but soon abandoned her struggle in despair.

The weight pressing down on her exceeded expectation, and moving recklessly under her current condition might trigger another wave of collapse.

Under normal circumstances, it would be a mere matter of breath to deal with such an issue, but now...

Blinking, a familiar sensation arose again.

Not long ago, she had only encountered this feeling in poetry and the descriptions of others.

What awakened Jora was not her wounds but something deeper, primal, irresistible—biological joy on an elemental level.

Enduring, silently enduring.

"Faster, let time move faster..."

Jora could only pray helplessly.

But after an eternity, her hope faded.

"I won’t let you go, I swear it!"

"Never!"

"Even more of them than the last time!"

As she spoke, her eyes welled up with tears. Jora, a Fifth Tier powerhouse, let the tears of humiliation fall.

Was there anything more tragic than this?

No pain is greater than a broken heart; if resistance is futile...

No, this cannot be—it must not be—I cannot yield!

"I have to rise up; Dora is waiting for me, waiting for me to rescue her!"

"Killing all the men who hurt her won’t be enough—those men’s nations, and every male creature around them, should perish!"

Silently vowing her vengeance, Jora sobbed quietly.

The days that followed were an endless cycle of torment for Jora.

She woke to pleasure, then silently wept, enduring everything once more, over and over, day after day.

Oh...sometimes, it felt as if time stretched endlessly—maybe it was an illusion?

Doubled events merged into one? Or was it her imagination?

Even harder to accept was this: throughout this process, Jora realized she was becoming accustomed—accustomed to the changes in her body.

And accustomed to the newfound strength that began to emerge within her.

It was a unique flame, born of raw desire.

Purely blazing.

A spark that could ignite a wildfire.

As time passed, this flame burned brighter and brighter, but Jora silently stored its energy, awaiting the moment she could use it to ignite her strengths within.

And then, with that spark as her breakthrough, resolve every injury in one move.

"Soon, just a few more times will be enough."

Jora calculated silently. But one day, awakening from a fitful sleep, she realized her body felt hollow.

"Nothing?"

"Why is there nothing today?"

Irritated, Jora muttered.

Through a certain special perception, she had already pinpointed Dora’s exact location. As soon as her wounds healed, she could set off and unleash her vengeance.

Initially, during moments when her wounds showed slight improvement, Jora had been impulsive, but she quickly suppressed the thought.

Though brief, she understood that man was no ordinary Fourth Tier fighter. In her current condition, the chances of failure were high.

If he managed to use Dora against her and capture her...

Even thinking about the horrifying prospect of such a thing happening caused her blood to boil, nearly triggering another explosion of internal injuries.

When something happens too many times, three instances feel indistinguishable from thirty. Thus, Jora endured humiliation, preparing to heal herself entirely before exacting revenge in one fell swoop.

But now, the sudden emptiness left Jora restless.

"What’s going on?"

"Why nothing today?!"

"I’ve been waiting!"

Waiting from dawn until midnight, through the darkness into another dawn, yet her body remained hollow.

"Resting? Is today a break day?"

"After all these days, why is there a break day now?"

"Exhausted..."

"Or is it that there’s no one else left to replace?"

Feeling the fire within her, Jora hesitated for a long moment before deciding, "I’ll wait a bit longer. If nothing happens tomorrow, then I’ll start recovering and..."

"Take revenge!!"

Meanwhile, far away in a distant estate, things had indeed taken a turn, though not due to Roger being fatigued.

And certainly, there weren’t the many men Jora had imagined. From beginning to end, Roger had been the sole tireless worker.

But for Demon Hunters, their most important ability wasn’t combat—though perhaps it involved certain battles against particular groups?

Roger hadn’t expected Amanda, in her new body, to unleash a passion greater than his own. The details of these lively days could fill a hundred thousand pages.

The Giant Dragon’s body was indeed powerful—even Roger was nearly overwhelmed—but through sheer strength, he preserved the reputation of the Demonic Hunters.

Days of this absurdity passed until something unexpected occurred.

It was a joyous unicorn expedition.

Amanda, clad in translucent silk, was in high spirits. After consecutive days of sparring and training, her mastery over the new body improved immensely.

She could now unleash around 80% of its power.

While not enough for high-level combat, it was sufficient for escape and self-preservation.

"Tell me: now that I’ve changed, which version of me do you prefer—the old me or the new me?"

Draining her glass of wine, Amanda grinned at Roger.

Apparently, Transcendents and ordinary women shared remarkable similarities in certain matters.

This was truly the ultimate trap question.

Honestly, Roger didn’t know how to answer.

At that moment, a beam of light rose from the other side of the room, followed by a surge of familiar energy. Then, a voice echoed in Roger’s mind: "Finally done!"

"Sonia?"

Roger stood up in excitement—his consciousness linked with Sonia—and hurried over to sense the changes in her condition.

Her vitality was thriving; apart from the parts suppressed by rules, she was nearly fully healed.

"How do you feel?"

He asked with concern.

Sonia rose from the ground. "Everything seems fine, but..." Her gaze revealed deep confusion as she looked up at Roger.

"For some reason, it feels like there’s always a heavy weight pressing on me."

"My back hurts a bit!"

Roger:...