Lord Of The Lost

The tension in the border town had reached its peak. Every horse, every suit of armor, every weapon the town could muster had been brought out for this decisive battle. The Forum Master, true to his reputation as a leader willing to risk everything for his plans, had even dug into his own pockets to hire skilled players. Among them were a few trusted individuals trained in attack magic, an investment that nearly drained his personal resources.

The stakes couldn't be higher. If the operation succeeded, his prestige would soar, cementing his status as the protector of the border town. But failure? That would be catastrophic. Three hundred high-level players would suffer the brutal death penalty, and any hope of dealing with the thieves would be lost. Dying twice in succession would cripple even players above level 5, leaving them unable to recover. It wasn't just a gamble; it was an all-in wager with lives, power, and the future of the town on the line.

"This is our best chance," the Forum Master declared, his voice cutting through the tension. "And we 'must' win this time."

The thieves they faced weren't an ordinary rabble. They were a mix of desperate survivors from the Shadow Castle and low-ranking outlaws from the broader thieves' network. Among them were five or six extraordinary individuals, elite thieves leading groups of high-level subordinates. These groups were merely the vanguard, sent by outside forces to test the waters in the border town. Defeating them would not eliminate the larger threat, but it would buy the players and the town some much-needed breathing room.

William knew this all too well. He and the Forum Master had faced one of these extraordinary thieves in an ambush not long ago. At the time, William's strength had been on par with an ordinary extraordinary being, but the thieves underestimated him and the Forum Master, dismissing them as inexperienced rookies.

"They spent all day hunting geese," William recalled with a wry smile, "only to get their eyes poked by one."

Despite the odds, William and the Forum Master had fought their way out, turning the tables on their ambushers. But this time, the stakes were far higher. The Forum Master's plan was clear: to wipe out the thieves and their extraordinary leaders, crippling their operations in the region for the foreseeable future.

Yet the thieves were not fools. Even as the players rallied, pushing them back with sheer determination, the extraordinary thieves held their positions. They didn't charge recklessly or lead their men into the thick of battle. Instead, they hung back, barking orders like commanders wary of a trap.

"'Come on!'" they shouted to their subordinates, rather than the more reckless, "'Follow me!'" Their caution was palpable. They sensed something was off. Had the five or six extraordinary thieves joined the fray, the players would have been overwhelmed in moments. No group of players, no matter how well-prepared, could stand against their combined might.

Suddenly, a black shadow materialized before William and the Forum Master, as if conjured from the void itself. The figure was Alex, cloaked in a shroud of darkness so thin it seemed woven from shadows. His slightly curly black hair framed a cold, calculating expression, and his high collar concealed much of his face.

The Forum Master turned to him sharply. "How is it?"

Alex shook his head, his voice hoarse and bitter. "No. I injured him, but I couldn't kill him."

William's eyes narrowed. It dawned on him that Alex had attempted an assassination on one of the extraordinary thieves; a bold, almost suicidal move. For a level 8 player, still reeling from the penalties of an earlier death, to even injure a transcendent being above level 10 and escape alive was nothing short of astonishing.

"That's no small feat," William muttered, a note of grudging respect in his voice. Alex's failed attempt, while not the outcome they'd hoped for, was a reminder of the immense gap in strength they faced.

A cry broke the moment. "We can't hold on any longer!" a player shouted from the front lines. The thieves were pressing hard, exploiting their superior numbers and momentum. The players were skilled, each with unique talents, but the relentless onslaught was wearing them down. Despite their best efforts, the battle was slipping away.

The Forum Master's frown deepened. Logically, the plan shouldn't have gone awry. The strategy was sound, the players were prepared, and the timing was right. But something had shifted. Could William's sudden appearance have spooked the thieves? It seemed unlikely. For all their cunning, the thieves had the advantage of numbers and power. What reason did they have to hesitate?

"Alex," the Forum Master said grimly, "if we lose the front line, we're finished. We need time, time to lure the extraordinary thieves out and finish them."

William glanced at the battlefield, his mind racing. The players were faltering, but not broken. If the extraordinary thieves continued to hold back, there was still a chance to turn the tide.

"We need a diversion," William said, his voice steady despite the chaos. "Something to force their hand."

The Forum Master nodded. "Then let's give them one. Alex, ready yourself. William, I trust you can still fight."

William smirked, rolling his shoulders. "I didn't come here to sit on the sidelines."

The battle wasn't over yet, and as long as they still drew breath, neither William nor the Forum Master would let this gamble end in failure. Victory was still within reach, but only if they played their next move perfectly.

"Song girl, it's your turn to perform."

The Forum Master's voice cut through the battlefield like a commanding note, drawing the attention of all nearby. William followed his gaze and saw her, a striking blonde woman with mature elegance and beauty, standing with a small harmonica in her hand. She radiated confidence, yet there was a touch of unease in her eyes, like a performer about to take the stage for an audience she could not see.

The woman, introduced simply as "Singer," smirked with a mixture of charm and challenge. "We agreed you'd compensate me for this afterward," she said, her voice carrying a playful but firm tone.

William tilted his head, scrutinizing her for a moment. There was something about her name that didn't quite fit. She is an American player, for sure, he thought.

The Forum Master ignored her veiled protest and handed her a worn, fragile piece of parchment. William's eyes flicked to it, and a chill ran down his spine as he recognized it.

The Death Movement.

---

Item Name: Death Movement

Quality: Rare

Additional Note: This is a fragment of the legendary magic sheet music "Cursed Sonata," which fell apart over the centuries. One piece of the score was said to have fallen into the possession of a vampire count a century ago.

Effect - Death Curse: When this sheet music is played, listeners are corrupted and transformed into demonic beings. However, the performance itself is cursed, once begun, it cannot be stopped until completed, and the performer risks death upon finishing the piece.

---

The Diva's eyes widened as she read the game description. Her elegant brow furrowed in visible concern. "Are you sure this isn't going to kill me in real life?" she demanded, the earlier teasing tone gone, replaced by raw apprehension.

The Forum Master, ever the consummate leader, placed a reassuring hand on his chest. "Relax. I've thoroughly analyzed the Death Movement. It won't kill your real body, only extend your death penalty in-game if something goes wrong. I wouldn't risk my reputation like that in front of everyone here. And I promise, I'll compensate you generously after you log off."

Her hesitation lingered for a moment before she exhaled sharply and nodded. "Fine. But you'd better keep your word."

The Forum Master's selection wasn't random. The Singer wasn't just any player, she was one of the few with natural musical talent, and her abilities would unlock the Death Movement's full potential. If anyone could turn this cursed melody into a weapon, it was her.

The blonde woman straightened her shoulders, brought the harmonica to her lips, and closed her eyes. Her hands trembled for the briefest moment before the first note emerged; a clear, ethereal sound that pierced through the chaos like a mountain stream cutting through rock.

---

The battlefield stilled, if only for a moment. The Singer stepped forward with confidence, her movements graceful yet deliberate. The shield guards surrounding her parted, opening a path. Her music was her armor now.

But the thieves surged forward, their faces twisted in malice as they broke through the defense line. Their eyes locked on her, and they charged with blades raised high.

One thief, knife glinting in the sunlight, got close, too close. Yet as the music reached him, his steps faltered. His wild aggression dimmed, replaced by confusion. His eyes glazed over as if caught in a trance. Then, with a loud clang, his machete fell from his hands, hitting the ground uselessly.

The Singer walked past him as if he no longer existed.

William watched her transformation with fascination. The unease on her face melted away, replaced by a serene, almost blissful expression. She had become a performer on a grand stage, pouring her heart and soul into the cursed melody. Her music grew louder, richer, and more haunting with each passing second, rippling invisibly across the battlefield like waves crashing against a shore.

The effects were immediate and terrifying.

The sound of clashing steel and the shouts of battle began to fade. The thieves, so confident and ferocious moments ago, faltered. Their movements slowed, their expressions shifted to one of blank confusion. Even the players felt the weight of the melody. Many hurriedly fumbled for the earplugs they'd prepared in advance, stuffing them in to lessen the effect.

But the power of the Death Movement was undeniable. The music was beautiful, achingly so; but laced with something darker, a magic that ensnared the mind. It crept into the hearts of those who heard it, melting away their willpower and plunging them into madness.

The first to succumb was the thief closest to the Singer. His face twisted grotesquely, veins bulging on his forehead as his bloodshot eyes rolled back. A guttural roar escaped his lips, primal and animalistic. No longer human, he turned on his comrades, slashing wildly in a frenzy.

William wasted no time. He stepped forward, his spear gleaming in the dim light, and struck with precision. With a clean, decisive motion, he severed the fallen thief's head. The body crumpled lifelessly to the ground.

---

[You killed the fallen thief and absorbed a trace of the thief's extraordinary characteristics.]

---

More thieves fell to the cursed melody. Those who weren't immediately driven mad stumbled about, dazed and disoriented, easy prey for the players who pressed forward to exploit the chaos. But the melody's reach wasn't limited to the thieves alone. It wrapped around the battlefield, threatening to pull everyone into its spell.

William could feel its pull, even from a distance. He glanced at the Forum Master, who stood with a satisfied smirk. The plan was working, but for how long?

The Singer, now fully immersed in her performance, seemed to glow with a strange, ethereal light. The melody poured from her harmonica like a river of death, unstoppable and relentless. Yet there was something fragile in her expression, an unspoken understanding that this power came at a cost.

William tightened his grip on his spear. The battle wasn't over yet, and while the Death Movement had turned the tide in their favor, he knew the extraordinary thieves lurking in the shadows wouldn't fall so easily.

"Stay sharp," he muttered to the Forum Master. "This is far from finished."

The Forum Master nodded, his eyes scanning the battlefield. "Let's see if the extraordinary thieves still think they can sit this one out."

The Death Movement had begun, and there was no stopping it now.