Lord Of The Lost

Puff!

In the blink of an eye, they passed each other as if effortlessly slicing through the air. The Black Crow King let out a gut-wrenching cry as blood burst into the sky. A gaping hole as wide as a washbasin had been carved clean through its chest, from front to back.

Wounded and desperate, the massive beast turned, flapping its enormous wings clumsily in a frantic attempt to flee Crow Ridge.

"Trying to escape?" William's voice was cold, merciless.

In a flash, he closed the distance, his wings slicing through the air with precision. The Black Crow King, now unsteady and vulnerable, stood no chance.

With a decisive strike, William beheaded the beast mid-flight.

The giant head, easily the size of seven or eight footballs, tumbled to the ground, trailing blood that painted the air in crimson streaks. The impact of its fall sent up a cloud of dust as it landed with a deafening thud.

The Black Crow King's body, weighing more than a ton, would have followed, but William caught it in his powerful claws just in time. To him, even this massive corpse was a prize, wild Black Crow supernatural beings were incredibly rare and valuable for crafting magical materials.

---

As he hovered in the air, notifications began to flash before him.

[Your talent, "Killing to Prove Your Truth," has taken effect.]

[Physical Value +0.07 | Spirit Value +0.2 | Energy Value +0.12]

[Your talent has absorbed a complete set of Black Crow's extraordinary characteristics.]

William studied the Black Crow's traits, now extracted and stored through [Rashomon]. The solidified form of its essence appeared as a small crow shrouded in black mist, which he carefully placed in his backpack.

The body of the Black Crow King, however, was far too large to fit into any storage space. William had no choice but to drag the massive, headless corpse, like an eagle clutching a goat, the proportions looked comically exaggerated.

Spreading his wings once again, he began flying toward the magic house.

---

Along the way, his presence caught the attention of players below.

A pale, frail-looking female player, her body as delicate as a bean sprout, watched William's shadow streak across the sky. Her wide-eyed stare turned to tears as she cried out in frustration:

"Why? WHY?! Metatron doesn't understand! Why is someone flying while the rest of us are still walking?! Metatron wants to fly too, but Metatron is only level 3! Why is life so unfair?!"

Her lament echoed through the woods as William disappeared from sight.

---

Elsewhere in the forest, a blond young man resting under a tree caught sight of William's figure as it soared through the sky. He muttered to himself, "That figure… could it be…?"

Before he could finish, his companion, sitting nearby, sneered. "Who else could it be? It's the guy they all call Big Brother. In this town, aside from birds, who the hell can fly?"

The blond man shook his head, his expression grave. "No, I mean… that body he's carrying. Is that… the Black Crow King?"

The other man's eyes widened. "The Black Crow King? Damn it! Forget everything, we're heading to the Elf Forest right now! I'm changing my job to Ranger!"

"Ranger?" the blond man shot back skeptically. "I'm starting to think carving my own path is the better choice."

His companion groaned. "Are you stupid? You need to hit level 10 to carve your own path! Do you know how much experience that takes? It'll take forever!"

"But I don't want to waste my talent," the blond man argued.

"Ugh, fine, do whatever you want. Just don't get us lost again! Last time you led us into the Elf Forest, it turned into a damn nightmare!"

The two players continued bickering as William's shadow faded in the distance, the severed head of the Black Crow King hanging from his claws like a trophy of war.

William flew over the towering magic castle, circling gracefully before landing on the roof. He carefully placed the massive, headless body of the Black Crow King on the tiles and called out, "How much is this worth?"

An owl, perched nearby, let out a sharp cry. "Hor!"

Moments later, Calcifer, an eccentric figure known for his appraisals, fluttered up to inspect the corpse. After a brief glance, he said, "Thirty silver coins."

William frowned. "Thirty? That's it? Why so low?"

Transporting the Black Crow King had been no easy feat. Transforming into a black crow consumed a lot of his physical strength and energy, but carrying something as massive as this had drained him five times faster than usual. And now it was being valued at a mere pittance?

Calcifer was equally annoyed. "Its mysterious essence has already been drained. What were you expecting? A fortune?"

William fell silent, biting back his frustration. Even if it was a low price, thirty silver coins were better than nothing.

"Fine," he muttered. "I want to buy a can of spiritual oil."

Spiritual oil was a powerful substance. It had a strong suppressive effect on dark creatures; something William, a supernatural being on the Demon Wolf Path, had to be cautious about. While the oil's effect would dampen his own abilities, his [Secret] trait ensured the impact was manageable. In his calculations, it was worth it, a strategy of sacrificing one to kill ten.

However, spiritual oil came at a steep cost: two magic gold coins, stolen from Shadow Castle itself.

Its versatility justified the price. Spiritual oil could fully restore physical, spiritual, and energy properties. It was also a key ingredient for crafting items or repairing extraordinary weapons. Still, wiping weapons with it for maintenance felt unnecessarily indulgent, even for someone like William.

But simply buying the oil wasn't enough. He needed a more sustainable solution. "Do you have any formulas for making spiritual oil?" he asked.

Before Calcifer could answer, Hall, the owl, laughed sarcastically. "What are you thinking? You really think we'd have the formula for something like that?"

William raised an eyebrow. "Don't you have 'everything'?"

Calcifer chuckled, taking a slow sip of tea. "Even if we claim to have 'everything', some things are beyond our reach. The formula for spiritual oil is one of the church's most guarded secrets. Only they can make it."

William frowned, deep in thought. If the church was the only source, obtaining the formula wouldn't be easy. But Calcifer leaned forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone.

"There 'is' a way," Calcifer said, smiling beneath his black robe. "There's a chance you might find the formula in the Lost Labyrinth."

William's eyes widened in surprise. "The Lost Labyrinth again?"

Calcifer grinned knowingly. "What isn't in the Lost Labyrinth? You could find everything you've ever wanted there; wealth, power, knowledge. But don't forget, it's not called 'lost' for nothing. That place is rife with danger. Even as a transcendent, you've only taken your first step. I'd suggest finding a few allies before heading there."

William was silent for a moment, digesting the idea. The labyrinth sounded like both an opportunity and a death trap. Calcifer's warning was clear, but the allure of what lay hidden within the maze was impossible to ignore.

In the end, William simply nodded, quietly steeling himself for the challenges ahead. If the Lost Labyrinth held the answers he needed, he wouldn't back down. Not now.

William's curiosity about the Lost Labyrinth had been reignited.

First, Calcifer mentioned it. Then Sofia's grandmother brought it up as well. The whispers about this place seemed to follow him everywhere.

"What kind of place is it, really?" he thought to himself.

His musings were interrupted when Howl, a sharp-eyed bird, landed on Calcifer's shoulder and remarked, "Calcifer, are you seriously planning to send them to the Lost Labyrinth? That place is forbidden by the gods."

Calcifer's tone remained calm, even amused. "I hope this group can bring some hope to this increasingly desperate world."

Hall, observing from nearby, added dryly, "Well, it's your call. But you know your time is running out. The Witch of the Wilderness is about to breach the Snowstorm Fortress, Calcifer."

Calcifer nodded slowly, taking another elegant sip of tea. "Yes, this world doesn't have much time left."

---

William left the Magic House, his mind still heavy with thoughts of the labyrinth and the ominous fate Calcifer had hinted at.

As he passed the Abandoned Mines, his Demon Wolf instincts flared. Something felt... off.

Pausing mid-flight, William stared down at the dark, jagged entrance of the mine. A faint, ominous aura lingered there, prickling at his senses. He descended swiftly, landing next to a passing player. The sudden appearance startled the player so much they stumbled backward.

Recognizing William, the player sighed in relief. "Oh, it's you, brother. Why are you here?"

William, his expression calm but serious, asked, "Have you been killing monsters here recently?"

The player, who went by the name Flying Spaghetti, nodded. "Yeah, I've been grinding levels."

"Have you noticed anything unusual?" William pressed.

"Unusual? Like what?"

Flying Spaghetti had just reached level 6 and was still considered a low-level player. He hadn't been strong enough to participate in major events like the Thieves' Rebellion, and his progress was slow compared to others. But in the world of players, not everyone leveled up at the same speed. Circumstances varied from person to person.

William knew this mine well. He had once soloed the Abandoned Mine Dungeon, earning the coveted first-kill reward. Back then, it was packed with high-level demonized monsters, but after William cleared it out, it became a hotspot for players. Over time, the dungeon's monsters respawned at lower levels, attracting players searching for materials or low-stakes combat.

It was said that some players had found gem fragments and magic ores here; valuable for crafting high-quality items, but nothing of greater significance had surfaced since William's first raid.

After all, William had already claimed the "fattest crab," defeating the dungeon's strongest monsters and collecting the best loot. The current monsters were weak, newly spawned, and still growing. For high-level players, the mine held no appeal. A level 7 or 8 player wouldn't waste time fighting level 5 or 6 monsters.

That left lower-level players, like Flying Spaghetti, to explore the mines. To someone at his level, the place was ideal for grinding experience and loot.

The player explained as much, and William listened, his sharp gaze scanning the surroundings. A new batch of demonized monsters had clearly emerged here, but the ominous feeling in his gut told him there was more to it.

William didn't reply immediately. His mind churned through the possibilities, trying to piece together what his Demon Wolf instincts were warning him about.

For Flying Spaghetti, the mine was an opportunity to grow stronger. But for William, it felt like a harbinger of something darker, something far beyond the reach of a low-level player's understanding.

"Keep grinding," William said finally. "But stay alert. Something isn't right here."

With that, he turned his gaze back toward the mine, the unease in his chest refusing to subside. Whatever was happening in the Abandoned Mines, it wasn't just another batch of monsters.