Lord Of The Lost

The white mist clung to the battlefield, chilling William to his core. It felt as though he'd fallen into an icy abyss, the cold sinking not just into his skin but into his soul.

And then it hit him. 'Where was Little Bob?'

Before he could voice his confusion, a hunter grabbed his arm and threw an 'invisibility cloak' over him. The hunter's face was grim but resolute. "'Child! Go!'" he shouted, his voice breaking through the chaos.

Blood dripped from the corner of William's mouth as he staggered, struggling to process what was happening. He knew why the hunter was sacrificing himself; because William was young, full of potential, a seedling worth protecting. The hunters, seasoned and battle-worn, had made their decision. They would not let him die here.

William wanted to scream, wanted to tell them that he wasn't like them, that he was a 'player' and could be resurrected. But there was no time.

The hunter turned without another glance and charged toward the elite werewolf, a roar of defiance on his lips.

William watched in horror as the elite werewolf, towering and blood-soaked, tore through the hunters like a reaper harvesting wheat. Despite their experience, their desperate attempts to scatter and buy time were futile. The werewolf was relentless, closing the distance between them with terrifying speed.

One by one, the hunters fell. Their bodies hit the ground like broken corn stalks, and their cries of defiance were silenced in an instant.

William's head throbbed, his thoughts spiraling in chaos. 'Where is Little Bob?'

And then, something inside him snapped.

He threw off his 'dragon scale armor', the heavy plates clattering to the ground. Dark feathers began sprouting from his body as he activated the 'Black Crow Wings'. His transformation was swift and seamless. Cloak swirling around him, he spread his wings wide, his figure now cloaked in shadows and rage.

With a powerful leap, William soared into the sky, his wings slicing through the mist like knives. He climbed higher and higher until he reached a dizzying height of two hundred meters. The wind howled in his ears as he hovered for a moment, his spear gleaming like a shard of silver in his hand.

Then, he tucked his wings close to his body and plummeted.

He fell like a meteor, the air roaring around him. His speed accelerated with every passing second, his body a black blur against the pale sky. His spear, pointed downward, was the tip of a deadly missile. The ground seemed to rise to meet him, and the force of his descent became an unstoppable torrent of power.

The injured half-blood werewolf on the battlefield froze, its heightened instincts screaming of imminent death. It tried to dodge, its muscular frame twisting to the side.

But William wasn't about to miss.

He snapped his wings open, adjusting his trajectory mid-fall with razor-sharp precision. Like a missile locked onto its target, he altered his angle and hurtled toward the werewolf.

'BOOM!'

The impact shook the earth. Debris and smoke exploded outward, creating a crater four or five meters wide and half a meter deep. The shockwave rippled through the battlefield, scattering dirt and broken rocks in all directions.

Though the strike hadn't hit directly, the werewolf hadn't escaped the blast. Already weakened and injured, its lower body was obliterated by the sheer force. Blood and flesh splattered across the ground as it collapsed, its body writhing in agony before finally going still.

William staggered to his feet, pulling himself from the crater. His arms hung at awkward angles, both twisted and broken. His tendons screamed in protest with every movement, his internal organs felt as though they had been crushed, and the recoil had nearly killed him on the spot. He coughed, tasting blood in his throat, but he forced himself to stand.

His vision blurred as he turned to the remaining hunter. He was too late.

The elite werewolf crushed the last hunter's skull with its massive claws, blood spraying like a geyser. The sickening sound of bone shattering echoed in William's ears.

The hunter's body slumped to the ground, lifeless.

William's chest heaved with ragged breaths, his vision tinged with red. He locked eyes with the elite werewolf, rage burning hotter than his pain.

The werewolf snarled, its one glowing eye narrowing as it fixated on William. With a burst of speed, it launched itself toward him, closing the gap in a heartbeat.

William didn't hesitate. Flapping his wings with all his might, he threw the 'invisibility cloak' over himself and soared into the sky.

The elite werewolf skidded to a halt, its claws tearing into the dirt as it tilted its head back to track him. The creature sniffed the air, its keen senses detecting subtle shifts in the wind. It could feel William's presence but couldn't pinpoint him.

William hovered above, his voice carrying cold and sharp through the mist.

"'Just wait. I'll kill you and your kind until nothing remains. I will wipe out every last one of you.'"

The elite werewolf growled, its fury barely contained. But before it could react, it felt a sharp, chilling tug at its ankle.

It looked down.

There, lying on the ground, was the half-blood werewolf whose lower body had been destroyed. Its body convulsed, its claws weakly clutching at the elite werewolf's leg. Blood spilled from its mouth as it choked out its final breaths.

With one last tremor, the werewolf died, its broken form slumping lifelessly into the dirt.

The elite werewolf snarled in rage, throwing its head back to howl into the sky. But the mist and the silence of the dead were its only answer. William was gone, for now.

William flew unsteadily through the darkened skies, his wings faltering as his body began to betray him.

The werewolf characteristics within him were awakening, a violent, primal force spreading like wildfire through his veins. It clawed at his mind, threatening to consume his thoughts, and his control slipped further with every passing second. His body twitched uncontrollably, and his movements became erratic.

Then it happened, he lost control entirely.

"Ah!" William gasped as his wings buckled mid-air. His body spiraled downward, crashing into the rocky ground below with a sickening thud.

"Cough!" He hacked violently, blood spilling from his lips as he clutched his chest. His voice was hoarse and trembling as he rasped, "How… how could this happen?"

His physical and mental reserves were almost depleted. Exhaustion weighed heavily on him, making it nearly impossible to resist the werewolf traits now fully emerging within him. His body began to change before his eyes.

His teeth sharpened into fangs, each one aching as it pushed through his gums. Dense, coarse black fur sprouted in patches over his crow feathers, blending grotesquely with his transformation. His breathing quickened as panic clawed at his throat.

"No!" William hissed, staggering to his feet despite the intense pain wracking his body. "I… I can't let this happen!"

Every step was agony, but William forced himself forward, stumbling toward the hidden cave he had prepared earlier. His vision blurred, the world spinning around him as the werewolf's brutal power vied for control.

Finally, with his last ounce of strength, he staggered into the ritual formation carved into the cave floor. The glowing runes flared to life, and the array activated automatically.

The transformation slammed into him full force.

William screamed as a feral howl erupted from his throat. His body twisted and contorted as the ritual began its work. The pain was indescribable, as though his very essence was being ripped apart.

The process wasn't just an awakening; it was a 'stripping' of his werewolf characteristics. Every ounce of that power was being torn away, and the agony was beyond comprehension. William felt as though he were being burned alive in a pit of unrelenting flames.

His skin seemed to shred and peel away, his muscles searing as though a thousand needles pierced them. His bones cracked and splintered, only to reform and break again. It felt as though his organs were being hollowed out, leaving nothing but an empty shell.

"'Ahhhhhhh!!!'" William's scream echoed through the cavern, a sound of raw torment that could chill even the bravest heart.

---

And then, there was silence.

Everything was dark.

William felt like he was sinking, his body drifting downward into an endless abyss. It was cold, silent, and oppressive, like he was trapped at the bottom of the deepest ocean. His thoughts began to decay, crumbling into nothingness as he drifted further into the void.

But then, a voice broke through the darkness.

"It's okay… if there's only one of us left to live. Carry on for the rest of us…"

The voice was soft yet filled with sorrow, heavy with remorse and self-blame. It was a stranger's voice, one William had never heard before, yet it reached him like a lifeline.

His eyes snapped open.

---

The familiar sight of his bedroom ceiling greeted him. The dull hum of the real world slowly filtered back into his senses.

William sat up with a jolt, breathing heavily as he clutched his chest. He wasn't in the cave anymore. 'He was offline.'

"Damn," he muttered, his voice shaky. He quickly accessed the game prompts to check his status. Relief washed over him as he read the results.

'[Werewolf characteristics successfully stripped.]'

'[Transformation path rejected.]'

He let out a long breath, his body trembling from the ordeal. He hadn't turned into a werewolf. The ritual had worked, but at a cost.

William tried to move his fingers, wincing as pain shot through his arms. It felt like his bones had been shattered into pieces. The injuries from the game world had transferred to his real body, though there were no visible wounds. Every movement was torture, his entire body screaming in protest.

Reaching into his bag, William managed to retrieve a bottle of 'energy potion'. Even lifting the bottle was an ordeal, but he forced it to his lips and drank deeply. The healing effects were slow, but he could feel his strength beginning to return.

Minutes passed as he sat slumped in his chair, his body recovering bit by bit. The pain dulled to a manageable throb, and he finally managed to sit upright.

Staring at his computer screen, William opened the game forums to distract himself from the lingering ache. What he found shocked him.

---

The forums were ablaze with activity. Threads about the 'elite werewolf encounter' dominated the front page. Players were speculating about the events, analyzing the tactics, and sharing theories about William's actions.

One thread in particular caught his attention:

'"Who Was the Crow Knight?!"'

It was filled with footage from other players who had apparently been observing the battle through magical means. Clips of William's mid-air clash with the elite werewolf, his meteoric dive, and his final stand were being dissected by an audience that had no idea who he really was.

"Crow Knight?" William muttered, raising an eyebrow. "That's new."

The top comment made him chuckle despite his pain:

'"Whoever that was, they're insane. But damn, I'd follow them into battle."'

William leaned back in his chair, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips. 'Insane, huh?' He couldn't argue with that.

As he scrolled through the threads, his exhaustion began to fade. The hunt wasn't over yet. He still had a lot to do. But for now, he allowed himself a moment to rest. The fight would continue soon enough.