Demon Hunter and His Cabin
Chapter 954 - 707 What are you going to do?_2

Chapter 954: Chapter 707 What are you going to do?_2

The falling figure wavered slightly.

"Quick, let’s get out of here."

"Is it over?"

Jora asked in return.

"If we don’t leave now, you’re going to get killed by them!"

Roger’s voice was heavy.

"Damn it! Do you even know what you’re doing?" Jora roared coldly.

"I am fully aware of my own situation. You only get one chance. If we fail this time, it might take an incredibly long amount of time for you to gather enough Life Essence to reach the Fifth Tier!"

"The current situation won’t give us that kind of time!"

"By then, many people will die, including you, including me!"

"It’s over. It’s already over!"

Roger interrupted Jora. In his consciousness, only a short moment seemed to have passed, but in the outside world, Jora was already bearing countless attacks.

The Hunter’s Cabin, like a greedy black hole, was madly absorbing Life Essence. If time allowed, Roger suspected it might really drain all of it dry.

But he knew that dragging it out any longer would mean Jora would either turn into frozen crystals or get killed outright before the lake’s energy was fully extracted.

While the initial circumstances could be blamed on Jora and her people’s scheming, which transferred Amanda’s soul into Erode...

Nevertheless, many misunderstandings had occurred between both sides thereafter. What Jora had done made it impossible for Roger to just stand by and watch her die in front of him.

Even though they were merely using each other, Roger had his limits.

"Is it done?"

Hearing Roger’s words, Jora seemed to exhale a sigh of relief, and her body immediately began to shrink, reverting to her human form.

A chilling frost spread from her palm. Jora’s body was terrifyingly cold. When Roger grabbed at her offhandedly, her arm was as hard as steel.

"Stop mocking me all the time. Now you’re tough too," Roger made a quip, but Jora no longer had the mood to respond to him.

Green ripples of energy circulated as her wounds healed rapidly, but this only accelerated the crystallization of her body into ice.

At that moment, Roger leaped out of the water. Around him, hordes of Ice Butterflies surged toward him. He crushed a large number of them with a single sweep, but as swirling snow filled the air, new Ice Butterflies quickly re-formed in the distance.

"Their target is me. What do you think? If I threw you out, wouldn’t things be a lot easier for the both of us?"

Roger chuckled softly.

No familiar shouting response came. Jora shut her eyes tightly, her face gradually turning expressionless. Meanwhile, the snow and ice around her spread, sealing her entirely within.

Roger’s heart sank. From what he could sense, Jora’s Vitality was shrinking at an alarming rate. Within her chest, the flame that burned for her emotions and will had dwindled to an almost insignificant flicker.

That flame wasn’t just her emotions—it was her willpower too.

By contrast, having absorbed part of the lake water, Roger himself, seemingly unaffected by the rules of the icy world, felt freed from its oppressive constraints without any physical transformations.

The bindings gone, he acted immediately, scooping Jora up and sprinting forward with reckless urgency.

In that very instant, a thin shadow behind Roger suddenly grew dense. The next second, a pitch-black silhouette separated from his body.

It bore his exact outline—along with a distinctly feral Black Moon.

The sun and moon dimmed.

In an instant, complete darkness enveloped the sky. For the first time, this snow-filled world seemed to experience the division of day and night.

And just as abruptly, the extreme darkness vanished, but every single flower in Roger’s path had been obliterated!

The smooth ground was now riddled with jagged scars. A network of dense, ferocious cracks stretched far into the distance, and Roger abruptly increased his speed.

The pitch-black figure cleared a straight path ahead of him.

Jora fell unconscious. With no reason left to hold back his strength, Roger quickly crested a hill, arriving at a forest by a chasm.

Jora’s condition was dire. Roger knew there could be no further delays, so he chose the most forceful, unrelenting way forward.

Countless icy trees were felled, their stumps spraying green liquid. Suddenly, the entire space began to tremble violently. Beneath the smooth surface, it seemed as if an enormous shadow was drawing ever closer.

"What is that?!"

Roger didn’t dare linger. He ran at top speed, so fast that he didn’t even entertain the thought of looking back, charging into the crevice of the canyon under the immense pressure.

He moved forward for what felt like an eternity in the dark, yet the terrifying weight pressing down on him still seemed inescapable.

Leaving was much easier than entering. With the shadow aiding him from the sidelines, Roger kept pushing ahead. Eventually, a brightness appeared in the distance, and familiar snowy peaks and white-covered vistas came into view.

"Hah..."

Letting out a long breath, Roger did not stop to rest.

He ran forward for a while longer. Just as Jora had described, it took barely one-tenth of the time it had taken to arrive for him to clear the repetitive mountain range and return to the area where their journey had begun.

In a world he felt utterly unfamiliar with, Roger could only do his best to find his bearings.

Judging by Jora’s worsening state, Roger knew he had to bring her back to the hidden valley as soon as possible.

"Cough... Put me down!"

A faint coughing sound came from behind him.

"You’re awake?" Roger was overjoyed. After leaving the canyon, he had already withdrawn the shadow.

Jora looked worse than ever. Her body was encased in an inch-thick layer of ice, making her seem devoid of any signs of life.

Even now, the voice he heard wasn’t Jora’s; it was her thoughts conveyed through spiritual transmission.

"How are you feeling?"

"Point me in the right direction. I’ll take you back to the valley."

"No, we can’t go there yet."

Jora replied.

"That horrible force is still present. I must purge the cold from my body as soon as possible; otherwise, my strength could be permanently diminished."

"Take me south, to the hottest place. I need the world itself to help me!"

Jora urged.

Provided with a destination, Roger carried Jora and set out once more.

Ural Volcano.

This was the most famous volcanic region in the southern part of Erode. However, the power of magma couldn’t dispel the coldness within Jora. What she now required wasn’t natural flames but the surrounding environment.

The hidden rules of the world.

Even in such an environment, the frost covering Jora showed no signs of melting. When they reached the area where the flames were most concentrated, Roger leapt into the crater with Jora in his arms.

He carved out a path to a world entirely enveloped by molten lava.

"Perfect, this is the place!"

Jora responded.

Roger was of no further help and could only wait silently close by. As time passed, he noticed the ice on Jora’s body beginning to melt.

But before he could heave a sigh of relief, the melted ice regrew, becoming even thicker. The thicker the frost became, the weaker Jora’s presence felt.

"This isn’t ordinary cold. This is like your flame—it’s only cold in appearance!" Roger frowned and said.

"Yes, that’s exactly it."

"I need the power of emotions," Jora replied. Upon saying that, she closed her eyes. Slowly, traces of anger mingled onto her face, as if she were recalling infuriating memories.

The veins on Jora’s forehead bulged.

As her fury swelled, the flame in her chest began to leap and dance.

"So that’s how it is!"

Roger almost wanted to slap her to heighten her anger further, but after some hesitation, he figured that such help would be rather limited.

At that moment, the frost completely melted off Jora’s body and created a vast humid space around them. Even the molten lava nearby froze solid.

The mist in the air soaked Jora completely, and her robe clung tightly to her body, outlining her most distinct curves.

Speaking of being twins, certain habits developed later in life still made the two of them very different. Roger quickly averted his gaze.

We are nothing but virtuous comrades, nothing else!

On matters like these, Roger felt he had a very clear boundary for himself.

The next second, Jora’s eyes snapped open.

"How are you? Are you feeling any better..." Before Roger could finish his question, Jora suddenly struck, lightly tapping Roger’s chest!

"What are you doing?!"

Roger was startled, instinctively stepping back. But then, a raging flame surged from within his chest. The fire split into two streams...

One rushed to his head, nearly scorching away all reason, and the other raced downward, awakening the most primal instincts of his body.

Roger understood clearly that the source of this fire burning through him was Jora’s Emotion Flame.

This emotion was called desire.

"You... what are you planning?"

A blank whiteness veiled Roger’s vision.

"Why do you all always insist on forcing me..."