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Now reading: Chapter 696 693 Follow Me from One-Eyed Monster, a Fantasy novel by Weyyao.

The Dark Force—no, the Lost Spirit—and Igor were facing off, with Igor holding a slight upper hand throughout the process.

It wasn't that the other party wasn't strong enough; Igor was simply too shrewd, having taken all foreseeable factors into account.

The Lost Spirit was hopelessly imrsed in the question of where it ca from and where it was going.

This standoff was causing a slight tilt to the balance that had initially been in place.

The Lost Spirit had completely lost its original right of control and was gradually reclaiming its identity.

The process was both painful and lengthy.

The Little Black Hands could deeply relate. Although their condition differed sowhat from that of the Lost Spirit regarding the Dark Force, these differences were re trivial details.

Indeed, the Little Black Hands and the Lost Spirit empathized with each other's predicant.

Given enough ti, the Little Black Hands would end up just like the Lost Spirit, perhaps even worse.

Both the Little Black Hands and the Lost Spirit ca from another world—a world that resonated distantly with this one. In their world, many shadows of this world could be seen, but from this world, not even a trace of theirs was visible.

Nonetheless, these spirits demonstrated a keen interest in worlds beyond their own.

And it was precisely this inability to see any trace of their original world in this one that resulted in them forgetting even themselves.

For Igor, this initially seed abnormal. He couldn't believe that anyone, no matter how indulgent, would ever forget who they were.

But through his interactions with these spirits, he had gradually co to realize that the world was vast and anything could happen.

There was still much he didn't know, but Igor was not one to rest on his laurels. He was striving to beco an Adventurer, and in that process, he was slowly uncovering many truths unknown to common folk.

His perceptive insight allowed him to quickly blend into his surroundings. Before he knew it, he could adapt to everything there, sotis even taking control.

Remarkable adaptability was also a testant to an excellent ability to respond and accept change. Only those adept at acceptance could continuously adapt.

Yet, people often overlooked these simple truths, and as a result, ended up deifying them.

Everything here was gradually becoming clearer.

It seed that Igor was the only one who understood; everyone else was lost.

Kadi was eager to see what Igor would do next. He had discovered this was no longer a Storytelling Contest but rather Igor's one-man show.

The Lost Spirit found a sense of familiarity in the mundane stories. This familiarity was a sign of its gradual self-recovery. Igor's stories introduced them to the ordinary, helped them experience choice.

This caused them to keep reflecting.

What on earth had they chosen that led them to being unrecognizable even to themselves?

The Little Black Hands fell silent, but the Lost Spirit beca hysterical. Compared to the Little Black Hands, its progression was more complete, making it feel more as if it belonged in this world.

"Am I... really non-existent?" Such feelings of regret are natural when one realizes one's true state shouldn't be what it currently appears. The doubts in one's heart are bound to increase.

Igor silently faced all this, knowing that at this mont, he shouldn't utter a word. This ti should be left for these lost ones to reflect upon themselves.

"Where do I co from? What am I? No, this is not ! That is not !"

The Power of Darkness had granted the Lost Spirit countless identities. These identities were the souls it had devoured. It wasn't a butcher that utterly annihilated the souls it consud; rather than a cold-hearted butcher, it behaved more like a parasite...

Countless years had passed. How many souls had it devoured? How many had it imprisoned? It could no longer rember clearly; those numbers were just fabrications. It had originally intended to keep a tally but unfortunately couldn't maintain it. The tedious, endless cycle made it restless.

It was always longing for sothing new, hoping to thoroughly enjoy the story of each soul it consud, then continue the story under their identity...

But sohow, it always inadvertently ruined everything. It was always too eager and lacked the patience to integrate into soone else's life. It would quickly jump from one to the next, each ti rely curious to see what kind of story the other possessed...

It considered itself a Thousand Faces, yet none of the masks it wore ever lasted long enough.

It longed for newness, yet it could never get what it desired...

This tornt, not many could truly understand.

It had no idea why this was happening, or what it was searching for. It seed like all it ever did was chase after sothing.

What exactly was it chasing after? Why had it still not found any clues by now?

Many a ti, it saw the souls it possessed gradually distancing themselves from it. This wasn't because it wasn't trying hard enough, or wasn't devoted enough. It was because every single soul was incompatible with it.

Ultimately, it didn't belong to this world...

In the language of this world, that ant it was a complete monstrosity.

Not knowing where it ca from or where it was going—that was its truest reflection.

It did not understand why it still hadn't grasped this simple truth by now.

"I am a monster! I do not belong here!"

The Lost Spirit found a fragnt of itself, a fragnt as desolate as a monster's final howl.

Igor felt it was ti. He had been waiting for this mont.

When all had settled, all that was revealed was but a field of dry bones.

When one truly realizes what one desires, all matters will soon reach a conclusion.

"You set off in the bloom of your youth; I hope you will still be youthful when you return." Igor stretched out his hand. At this mont, he seed like a glowing guide, leading these lost spirits back onto the path ho.

"What should I do? Can you really provide with an answer?"

"No, I can't tell you where to go. I can only tell you the way back."

"Why should I trust you?"

"Because I made a promise, and I've also been to your world."

Igor's reasons weren't particularly strong, but they compelled these lost spirits to believe him nonetheless.

"We hope you can lead us to that place."

"Follow ," Igor stated softly.

He knew where the Spirit World was and how to get there.

Without realizing it, Igor had fulfilled his mission. He was about to guide these spirits back to where it all began.

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