Rayne listened closely. From Zoltan's courtyard came the voices of a man and a woman, entwined together after finishing, murmuring intimately into each other's ears. The man's voice was magnetic and highly distinctive—it was none other than the Demon Hunter, Roger.
And his bedmate, that lady, had an unexpectedly lovely voice as well. Laziness tinged with seduction made it immensely charming.
"Uh..." Rayne had no desire to eavesdrop on others and cut off the sound waves.
At that moment, one of the inn's attendants came out from the back and said to Zoltan, "Boss, Master Roger wants a jug of apple juice. He asked me to tell you that tonight's card game is canceled for now."
"Damn it."
Zoltan took a vicious gulp of beer and said to Rayne, "That guy went out last night claiming he was going to a merchant's home to hunt demons. In the end, not only did he fail to kill the demon, he even seduced the merchant's lover and brought her back. Now he won't even play cards."
Rayne chuckled inwardly. So Roger had gotten lucky.
He took the apple juice from the attendant and said, "Leave it to me. I happen to have something to discuss with Master Roger."
The attendant glanced at Zoltan. The Dwarf waved a hand and said gloomily, "Let him go."
Rayne crossed the hall, entered the courtyard behind the inn, and knocked on Roger's door.
"The apple juice is here."
Roger's voice came from inside. Then the door opened, revealing the disheveled Roger.
He wore nothing but a pair of shorts. Scars covered his Brawn upper body, with scarcely a patch of unblemished skin left. The most striking one was a deep bite mark on his shoulder near his neck. Judging by the scar, the original wound had bitten down to the bone at the very least.
Rayne marveled inwardly. If scars were a man's medals, then Roger had far too many medals.
This Legendary Demon Hunter must have endured countless battles to reach where he was today.
When Roger saw Rayne, his expression froze for a moment. "Rayne, why are you here?"
As soon as he finished speaking, his catlike pupils contracted and then dilated. His gaze swept over Rayne, and he said in surprise, "You've become a Transcendent. Not bad—much faster than I expected."
"Yes."
Rayne nodded and handed over the jug in his hand. "Here's the apple juice you wanted."
A mysterious smile appeared on Roger's face. He accepted the apple juice, glanced back at the person in the room, and said, "Wait outside for me. I'll be right out."
With that, he shut the door.
In the instant before it closed, Rayne caught a glimpse of the graceful figure on the bed. It was only a fleeting look, yet it left an exceptionally deep impression. That lady was truly stunning.
No wonder she had captivated a Legendary Demon Hunter so thoroughly that he would even skip cards.
Rayne laughed inwardly and retreated into the courtyard to wait.
Zoltan's courtyard was large, its ground entirely paved with stone blocks. Several enormous custom iron weights stood against the walls. They looked somewhat like dumbbells from Earth, something one could grip and lift by hand, only much larger and heavier. Their rugged design bore obvious Dwarf characteristics. They were probably what Zoltan usually used to train his strength.
The sight of the equipment immediately interested Rayne, and he stepped forward to try it out.
The iron weights were marked with their weight. The lightest weighed a hundred pounds, and each was heavier than the last. The heaviest weighed a thousand pounds, and there happened to be a pair.
Rayne knew roughly how strong he was, so he went straight for the thousand-pound weight.
He grabbed the handle and, with a slight exertion of force, lifted the heavy iron block. It felt fairly easy, so his free left hand gripped the other thousand-pound weight.
His shoulders sank, and the muscles throughout his body tightened as he stood in place and performed several lateral raises.
Huff, huff, huff.
Rayne stopped after only a few movements, not pushing himself too far.
The two thousand-pound weights had not quite reached his limit, but they came close. They were perfect for training. He would get himself a pair later and practice more regularly to speed up his adaptation to his current strength.
No Transcendent profession became effortless merely because one had fused with a Demon Soul.
Spellcasters needed to cast spells frequently and improve their Soul Power through meditation. Melee professionals needed even more regular practice. They could not neglect training their bodies or mastering their weapons; all skills were honed through repetition.
Clap, clap, clap...
Rayne had just returned the iron weights to their place when he heard applause.
Roger walked into the courtyard, lowered his hands, and said, "I hadn't wanted to ask, but now I'm suddenly curious. What profession did you choose?"
He had put on a shirt, and his expression had returned to its usual calmness, making him seem somewhat cold. Yet it was difficult to conceal the scent of a woman lingering on him.
Rayne fell silent for several seconds before deciding to answer honestly. "Wizard."
Roger's expression immediately became wonderfully strange.
He had just watched Rayne easily lift two thousand-pound weights, and Rayne's body had become somewhat taller as well. He had assumed Rayne's Transcendent profession was strength-oriented, such as a Berserker or an Iron Guard.
Roger had even felt a little regretful about it, wondering whether Rayne lacked the talent to become a Demon Hunter and had therefore chosen a strength-oriented profession instead.
He had not expected Rayne to say he was a Wizard.
"You're a Wizard?" Roger sized up Rayne's body. He was even more Brawn than Roger himself. What kind of Wizard could lift two thousand pounds?
Rayne nodded seriously. "Of course."
"Cast a spell for me, then." Roger looked utterly unconvinced.
Now it was Rayne's turn to feel a little awkward.
He had fused with the Gold-Eating Ant's Demon Soul and possessed three Soul Elements, yet not one of them was an Arcane Element. He could not cast a single spell.
Seeing Rayne's embarrassed expression, Roger burst into laughter. Just as he was about to mock him a little, a woman's voice sounded from behind them.
"He really is a Wizard, though he is a Combat Wizard."
The two turned around and saw a woman in a long robe standing at the entrance to the courtyard, though neither knew when she had arrived.
She had black curly hair, fair skin, and a beautiful face. Her black eyes were exceptionally lively. She stood around one meter seventy tall, with a voluptuous figure and bare feet upon the ground. She wore only a Black Robe, exposing her smooth shoulders, and seemed to have nothing underneath, inviting endless fantasies.
The instant Rayne saw her, he felt that this woman was simply too beautiful.
In terms of appearance alone, she might have been slightly inferior to Viola, but she possessed a charm all her own. Her beauty carried an air of mystery; she was mature and alluring, the kind of woman who made men think of the lover in their dreams.
In the words of his previous life, she was a Supreme Tier mature beauty!
Rayne suddenly felt a little envious of Roger's luck with women. Any man would surely be reluctant to leave this courtyard.
Roger went to meet the beautiful woman. The stern expression he wore before outsiders vanished as he asked gently, "Draelsra, why did you come out?"
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