Lord Of The Lost

The scar-faced thief pressed forward, sensing victory within reach. William staggered, blood dripping from his lips, but his defiance was far from extinguished.

With a sudden motion, he thrust his hand forward. A dense black mist erupted from his palm, rolling out like an ominous tide.

[Devil's Mist]!

This was no ordinary fog, it was a spell William had developed using his own [Energy], designed to obscure vision and disrupt his enemies.

The scar-faced thief hesitated, realizing something was off. He wasn't just a common thug; he had mastered the thief's path, standing on the cusp of becoming a commander. But now, he understood with chilling clarity: they had underestimated their opponent.

"How is he still standing? Still casting spells after taking that much damage?" he muttered, his confidence faltering.

Determined to break through, Scarface unleashed his signature move.

[Smash]!

A powerful shockwave erupted from his fists, obliterating the black mist in an instant. The air trembled with the force of his attack. But when the mist cleared; William was gone.

All Scarface saw was a dark shadow slipping into the forest.

"Not good!" he growled, his instincts flaring.

Deeper in the forest, the thief wielding the massive bow felt the danger creeping closer. He moved to reposition, his body tense with anticipation.

Swish!

Too late. William descended like a storm, landing directly in front of the bowman. A smirk played across his lips as he looked his target in the eye.

"Well, well. I was wondering who it might be. Turns out, it's you. How have you been?"

This was no ordinary thief, it was the same archer who had ambushed William and the Forum Master in the grove. The one who had wielded this very giant bow to deal a devastating blow. William remembered the battle vividly, and the scar it left.

That thief had been bold and ruthless, even massacring Windmill Village in retaliation. But William wasn't the same man he was back then. He had grown, his strength far beyond what it had been before.

Before the archer could react, William's spear flashed. The bald thief with the broken arm collapsed, lifeless.

But something was wrong. William's frown deepened as he inspected his spear. The silver shaft was splintered, fine cracks spreading across its surface. A low, mournful whine echoed from the weapon.

He instantly recalled Scarface's earlier attack with the [Hand of the Madman], a weapon with the unique thief ability to destroy objects. His spear had endured countless battles, but the strain was finally too much.

William gently stroked the weapon, a faint sadness in his eyes. "You've served me well," he whispered. "Let's drink one last taste of blood, and let glory guide you from here on."

Drawing strength from his resolve, he activated the extraordinary traits stored within [Rashomon], clearing his mind and readying himself for what was to come.

With a turn, he headed back into the fray.

The thieves, emboldened by their belief that William was at his limit, charged after him, eager to finish what they had started. But William wasn't running, he was baiting them.

As they collided, the battlefield erupted once again into chaos. Weapons clashed, sparks flew, and the air rang with the sound of steel against steel.

Scarface watched the fight unfold, his fists tightening. He wasn't blind to the reality: even if all of his companions threw themselves into the battle, they stood no chance against William.

"If this is going to end, I'll have to do it myself," he muttered, stepping forward.

The strongest thief was about to join the fight, and the stakes had never been higher.

The [Madman's Hand] was a weapon of immense power, crafted specifically for the Rogue Path. It wasn't just a rare-level offensive item; it allowed its wielder to unlock hidden destructive abilities unique to the Rogue's extraordinary characteristics.

Scarface, a master of combat skills, had pushed his speed, strength, and extraordinary traits to their very limits. With his [Skull Fracture] ability, every strike he unleashed was lethal, each move honed to kill.

The forest became a battlefield of chaos as William and Scarface clashed, their blows shattering trees and tearing through the landscape. Scarface's thief abilities were on full display, showcasing his years of experience and veteran status.

But William wasn't foolish. He avoided direct confrontation with Scarface, knowing that even his dragon scale armor wouldn't withstand the thief's overwhelming attack power. One hit could rupture all his internal organs.

Instead, William turned his attention to the swarm of enemies around him. Fueled by the [Desperate Situation] trait of his Demon Wolf Path, a surge of power coursed through his body, enhancing his strength to unprecedented levels.

With physical fitness that had soared past 20 points, William tore through the crowd like a raging tiger. His punches and kicks alone caused blood to spill, and when he swung his weapon, chaos followed in his wake.

Among the thieves, the cockscomb-haired rogue stepped forward, wielding flames that roared to life in his hands. He wasn't an ordinary foe; this thief had developed his extraordinary traits to a formidable stage.

William responded with one final burst of strength, wielding his knight's lance with everything he had left.

[Piercing Attack]!

The air shook as the flames clashed with his strike. The impact was explosive, forcing a spiked shield to crash down with a deafening bang.

"Ah!" William roared, pouring every ounce of energy into his spear.

[Destruction]!

For the first time, he combined [Destruction] and [Piercing Attack] into one devastating move. The spiked shield shattered under the force, and the thief behind it staggered back as if struck by lightning, blood spurting from his mouth.

Snap!

In that moment, the knight's lance broke apart. But it had done its job; the cockscomb-haired thief collapsed, defeated.

William, now holding only half of his broken spear, stood in the midst of the carnage, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. The twin magic gems embedded in the dragon's head of his armor began to glow, emitting a blood-red light that was both terrifying and hypnotic.

The thieves froze. For a moment, fear rippled through their ranks.

But Scarface was relentless. "His weapon is broken! He's done for! Everyone, attack together!"

The extraordinary thieves barked commands, driving the lower-level rogues into a frenzy. In the Path of Thieves, leaders had a terrifying ability to manipulate their subordinates, spurring them into suicidal attacks without hesitation.

"Kill him!" Scarface roared.

"Kill!" the thieves echoed in unison.

William's eyes burned with determination. He gripped the broken spear, his gaze icy and unyielding.

"Let's see who kills whom!" he growled.

Without hesitation, William charged forward. A low-level thief lunged at him, slashing with a knife. William met him with a single punch.

Crack!

The thief's head exploded under the force, sending blood and brain matter splattering across the battlefield.

William didn't stop. Even without a weapon, he was unstoppable; a force of nature bent on crushing everything in his path. The fight was far from over, but William had no intention of falling.

William's whip kick sent another thief flying, the force of the blow so devastating it exploded into a mist of blood.

With deadly precision, his palms and fingers slashed through the air, glowing with energy. [Slash]! One swing was all it took to cut down several more thieves in his path.

Ten lives fell with each step he took; human life meant nothing here.

From the corner of his eye, Scarface seized an opening. [Run Fast]! In an instant, he closed the gap, entangling William before he could escape.

[Destruction]!

William sensed the danger and tried to leap away, but Scarface's attack came too quickly.

The Madman's Hand erupted with terrifying energy, slamming down on William's dragon scale armor with crushing force.

Boom!

The impact was earth-shattering, carving a hundred-meter-long gully through the battlefield. William's body was thrown across the ground like a ragdoll.

But even as he landed, battered and broken, he flipped back to his feet, blood pouring from his mouth. His chest heaved as he assessed his injuries, feeling the deep ache of a near-fatal blow.

Scarface froze, his face twisted in disbelief. "How… How are you still alive?"

It didn't make sense. No one should have survived that.

But William only moved faster, his strikes deadlier, his resolve sharper. He tore through the battlefield like a phantom, leaving bodies in his wake. It was as though death itself had descended upon the thieves.

At the end of the carnage, it was clear: this team of hundreds of thieves and seven extraordinary rogues had been obliterated by one man.

One man.

Nearly half of the thieves lay dead, and only one of the seven extraordinary beings remained.

Scarface's scalp tingled as fear crept in. William wasn't confronting him directly, yet Scarface was powerless to stop him. William's speed and agility made him a ghostly figure on the battlefield, vanishing and reappearing unpredictably. His trajectory couldn't be followed, and his attacks were relentless.

Scarface realized something horrifying: William could leave at any moment if he wanted to. But he didn't. He stayed.

Despite the weakening effects of magic and the relentless barrage of attacks, William fought on. His dragon scale armor was shattered, his fists drenched in blood, yet his will was unbroken.

The thieves' morale collapsed. They scattered in terror, abandoning the fight entirely.

It was chaos, a scene straight from hell. Even against extraordinary beings from the warrior or knight paths, the thieves had never suffered losses this catastrophic.

When the Forum Master and his team finally arrived, they were greeted by a gruesome sight. Corpses littered the battlefield, and rivers of blood ran through the dirt.

Standing amidst the carnage was a single figure.

William.

His armor was tattered, his body covered in blood, but he stood tall like an invincible god of war. His dragon-head helmet tilted back as he gasped for air, each breath heavy yet resolute.

Despite his exhaustion, the corners of his mouth curved upward in a faint smile; bright, defiant, and triumphant.

"I killed them all," he said softly, his voice steady. "The only pity… I almost reached my limit."