Demon Hunter and His Cabin
Chapter 702 - Chapter 702 Chapter 584 Three Months for Your One Hundred and

Chapter 702: Chapter 584: Three Months for Your One Hundred and Thirty Years! Chapter 702: Chapter 584: Three Months for Your One Hundred and Thirty Years! Blind confidence in his own strength led many to keep rushing forward even as blood turned the steps crimson, hoping against hope.

But slowly, as blood spread, the cold reality reminded everyone that the young man moving slowly ahead was utterly different from any other student Cold Crow Sword Master had taken in over the last few decades.

More cruel, and much more powerful.

Besides the first young man whose arm Roger had severed, all who challenged him afterward were decapitated.

Often, slaughter is the most straightforward and brutal solution.

To avoid facing endless challenges, one must demonstrate forcefully to everyone who the real prey is.

The figures that had previously appeared slowly retreated into the nearby bushes, and even if someone occasionally seemed eager to try, they’d lose their courage instantly under Roger’s icy gaze.

And under that probing question that seemed to pierce directly to the heart.

Roger did not walk fast; he seemed not to notice the people around him. In battle, those styles he thought he had fully absorbed began to offer him new insights.

Penetration.

The voice of Sword Master Cold Crow flowed through the depths of his heart.

One step, two steps.

As Roger reached the summit, a number suddenly flashed in his mind.

Eight.

Sword Control at thirty-three, achieving the eighth!

The Solutions Technique is a process that starts fast and slows down, especially with the last few factions, as different understandings of each faction can arise at the start.

But as the philosophy deepens, the paths and directions become narrower, making it exceedingly difficult for any single philosophical path to explain the entirety of the cultivation method.

There’s even a possibility of completely stalling due to a wrong direction.

If one decides to start over from scratch at that point, this phase could last a very long time.

Decades, or even a lifetime.

Most people choose an easy direction or follow the path carved out by their predecessors, and spend the rest of their time accumulating Spiritual Power.

This way, within the confines of a limited lifetime, one can ensure taking that final step to become master of oneself.

But even so, even with many paths to follow, those who manage to take that final step are rare as phoenix feathers and unicorn horns.

And what Roger is undertaking, or rather the direction chosen by the Yatagarasu Fraction of Sword Master Cold Crow, is much more difficult from the start compared to others.

But likewise, the rewards of success are incomparably greater than any other path could offer.

The Sword Master Cold Crow alone was able to support an entire Sword Pavilion and elevate the lonely Hankawa to be one of the Four Great Sword Pavilions.

His strength was evident for all to see.

With his rampant thoughts gathered, at the moment he stepped onto the summit, Roger swept his gaze across and spotted a familiar figure.

Honda Akira.

Shock was poorly concealed on the gaunt face.

“You wanted to fight me to the death in the name of revenge, and I agreed,” Roger said.

The Sword of Destiny was thrust into the stone slab in front of Roger.

The flush of tenacity on each side drank in the blood, looking beautiful yet evil in the sunlight.

Honda Akira’s complexion grew ugly.

“You don’t agree?”

Roger’s fighting power had just far exceeded what was expected of a mid-Fourth Tier, casting doubt in Honda Akira’s mind, who then appeared to grow hesitant.

Roger took a step forward, his voice rising sharply,

“So, will you fight or flee?”

Suddenly, all eyes were on Honda Akira’s face, the looks piercing like swords. Honda Akira gasped for breath, then violently raised his head.

“Fine, I represent the Honda Clan to take on your challenge!”

“Come on!”

Roger pulled the Sword of Destiny from the ground, his wrist flicked, sending a clear sound across the summit.

“We underestimated him,” muttered Sword Master Funiu, his voice reaching Miyanori Chiyoko’s ears.

“Perhaps this is the student Cold Crow Sword Master had carefully selected?”

“What about the ones before then?” Miyanori Chiyoko asked.

“The dead, of course, are meaningless,” was the answer.

Roger’s hand glided over the blade, and for some reason, even though Michihiro Morita’s second modification of the Sword of Destiny had ended in failure, his new ideas had indeed created a stronger connection between Roger and the weapon in his grasp.

The Sword of Destiny once bore too many marks of Green, something that Roger could seemingly never erase.

But now, those marks were fading away. Holding the weapon, Roger felt an unprecedented sense of Unity of Human and Sword, and a surge of boldness in his heart.

He raised his weapon, about to launch an attack, but just at that moment, the opposite Honda Akira suddenly spread his hands.

“Wait!”

“This is our Honda Family’s grudge, and you just agreed to it,” he said.

Honda Akira’s face wrinkled together, his eyes gleaming with malice.

“It’s not me you’ll be fighting, it’s someone else from the family!”

Roger had hardly expected Honda Akira could stoop so low, his gaze dropped coldly as he asked, “Who will it be?”

“Me!”

Out of the crowd came a stooped figure leaning on crutches, white-haired and frail-looking as if a gust of wind might topple him.

From him, Roger sensed an utter air of death.

Instantly, Roger grasped a certain truth.

The old man before him was at death’s door!

“I am Honda Hinata, the one Cold Crow killed decades ago was my own brother. I’ll fight this battle, do you have any objections?”

While the elderly man seemed on the verge of death any moment, Roger knew this was just a facade, as the man’s life was nearing its end.

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