Lord Of The Lost

William clenched his fists.

This revelation made his connection to the Misty Forest all the more unnerving.

> That was where I changed paths.

That was where I became a Demon Wolf.

He had always assumed it was fate, but now, he wasn't so sure.

> Did the first Demon Wolf have a hand in my transformation?

Was it by chance… or by design?

William took a deep breath.

> The first Demon Wolf killed the God of Mist.

And now, I walk the path of the Demon Wolf.

Was this inheritance?

Or was it a trap laid long ago?

William looked at "Sophia."

> "What does He want?"

The Black Swan tilted her head slightly, her lips curling into a cryptic smile.

> "I too am curious about that question."

She continued, her voice taking on a dreamlike quality.

> "I can guess why He did it."

"The powers of the Mist God and the Demon Wolf overlapped."

"To consume Him… was to grow stronger."

A terrifying realization crept into William's mind.

> "After devouring the Mist God, the Demon Wolf absorbed His divinity."

"He became even more elusive, even harder to track."

It explained everything.

That was why there were no records of the Demon Wolf.

No traces in historical texts, no remnants left to follow.

Whenever someone tried to look back in time, all they found was fog.

> "And if someone looks too deep…?"

The Black Swan's lips curled further.

> "A shadow will emerge from the mist of history."

"A wolf, lurking in the depths, waiting in silence."

"And when the watcher least expects it—"

"It will lunge from the darkness and tear them apart."

William felt a chill run down his spine.

> This is why no one remembers Him.

Because those who try to remember… do not live to tell the tale.

> "And so," the Black Swan whispered, "the legend of the Demon Wolf vanished into time.

William exhaled slowly.

This was too much to take in at once.

He furrowed his brow, trying to piece together the fragments of history.

> If the Demon Wolf was so powerful… where is He now?

> What happened to Him?

> "Calcifer once told me—" William muttered.

"The Demon Wolf has been missing for centuries."

The Black Swan nodded.

> "Yes."

"The last time He was seen… was during the War of Gods, more than a thousand years ago."

The War of Gods—the battle that shattered the Dwarven Kingdom.

That was when the Demon Wolf appeared one final time.

> "No one knows what He did."

"No one knows why He was there."

"No one knows… where He went afterward."

> "Everything about Him is a mystery."

William rubbed his temple.

The War of Gods wasn't an isolated event.

It was just one in a series of conflicts that had reshaped the world.

The polytheistic church had been established 2,000 years ago, marking a time of relative peace among the gods.

For four centuries, there were only small-scale skirmishes; disputes, but no all-out war.

Until 1,600 years ago.

Then, the balance shattered.

---

> "Four hundred years after peace was established, war broke out again."

It wasn't just any war.

It was a massacre.

> "The Witch Clan was dragged into battle."

"Several legendary witches took the field…"

"None survived."

The werewolves were no exception.

> "Two great werewolf heroes rose to the challenge."

"And like the witches… they too perished."

It was a slaughter on all sides.

And then—

> "The original Sun and Moon Gods intervened."

"And in an instant… the land itself was torn apart."

The gods themselves stepped into the fray.

They didn't send avatars.

They didn't send blessings.

They descended in full power and unleashed devastation upon the world.

The result?

> "The very earth crumbled."

"Continents split apart."

"And countless civilizations… vanished without a trace."

> The gods, once warriors, had become executioners.

William exhaled slowly.

His mind reeled from the sheer weight of history.

And yet, one question still gnawed at him.

> Where was the Demon Wolf in all of this?

If He had devoured a god, if He had erased His own legend, if He was truly the ultimate predator—

> Why did He disappear?

The Black Swan's lips curled once more.

> "That, William…"

"Is a mystery even I cannot solve."

She leaned in slightly, her voice barely above a whisper.

> "But make no mistake…"

"If He is not dead—"

"Then He is waiting."

And if the Demon Wolf is waiting…

> What is He waiting for?

The Gods' War and the Fall of the Primordial Moon

The war between gods didn't just reshape history, it erased an entire kingdom.

Sophia's lips parted slightly, her voice soft yet deliberate:

> "It is said… that during the War of Gods, the Demon Wolf attacked the Primordial Moon."

"And that attack… led to the Moon's fall."

William froze.

The Primordial Moon, one of the most powerful gods in existence.

Its sudden fall had always been a mystery.

There was no great battle recorded, no earth-shaking event to mark its demise.

It was as if the Primordial Moon had simply grown old and faded away.

The gods and the church barely reacted.

No mourning, no chaos.

> It was as if the Moon's death was nothing more than the passing of an old, forgotten man.

The power vacuum it left behind was immediately filled.

The Moon Goddess rose to take its place without resistance, as if the transition had been planned all along.

> The Primordial Moon vanished.

The world moved on.

The only ones who suffered, were its followers.

The werewolves, who had worshipped the moonlight for centuries, spent five hundred years chasing a phantom, only to hammer themselves into extinction.

The witches?

They didn't even blink.

---

The Witch's Indifference

The way Sophia or rather, the Black Swan, told this tale was unnerving.

Her tone was calm, almost apathetic, as if she were merely reciting history rather than speaking of a god's demise.

> She did not fear the Primordial Moon.

She did not revere it.

The Black Swan was a mystery.

A witch, but unlike any other.

She existed outside of awe and devotion, she spoke of the gods as if they were no more than characters in a book.

And that was what made her truly terrifying.

William took a deep breath.

He thought for a moment, then spoke plainly:

> "This has nothing to do with me."

---

To him, all of this divine intrigue, the fall of gods, the war of legends, the forgotten past, was irrelevant.

> He was here to grow stronger.

Not to unravel the mysteries of deities long gone.

The Demon Wolf was missing.

The Primordial Moon was dead.

> What did any of this have to do with the Black Forest?

If the gods weren't descending from their thrones to obliterate the horrors lurking in the abyss—

Then he had no reason to care.

> Let the past be the past.

The future is mine to carve.

Sophia's wine-red eyes flickered with an unreadable expression.

> "I only tell you this so you understand."

"The way of gods… is not as simple as you think."

Her voice was calm.

But her words were heavy.

> "What you call 'higher paths' and 'lower paths'—they are all flawed."

"There is only one true, complete path."

"The path that leads to the temple of the gods."

She smiled faintly.

> "And at the end of that road… is the throne."

"Tell me, William—"

"Do you think that throne is yours?"

For a brief moment, her pupils shifted—and William saw something else staring back at him.

Then, as quickly as it came, it was gone.

A warning?

A challenge?

Or something else entirely?

William didn't know.

But he understood one thing, this conversation was far from over.

After that unsettling exchange, the team resumed their exploration.

Each step through the maze was a mix of peril and reward and this time, they stumbled upon another dwarven ruin.

But something was wrong.

The moment they entered, they were greeted by what seemed to be a treasure chest; ornate, ancient, covered in intricate engravings.

A dwarven masterpiece.

Or so it seemed.

> The Forum Master frowned.

Metatron's eyes narrowed.

Then, with a single glance of appraisal, the truth was revealed—

> "It's a Treasure Chest Monster."

Some extraordinary creatures were like hermit crabs—

They burrowed into objects, making them their new homes.

This one had claimed a treasure chest as its shell.

It sat in wait, looking indistinguishable from the real thing, until an unsuspecting victim opened it.

Then—

> Fangs. Tentacles. Claws.

A living nightmare, devouring its prey in an instant.

But unfortunately for the monster, it had chosen the wrong group to deceive.

> With prophecy on their side, the Forum Master and Metatron saw through its disguise immediately.

It never even got the chance to strike.

> One precise attack and it was dead before it could twitch.

The team moved forward, opening actual treasure chests using the Master Key they had looted from Shadow Castle.

Inside, they found golden sand, rare pearls, and priceless dwarven artifacts.

A good haul, but their journey deeper into the ruin came to an abrupt halt.

> The ghosts of fallen dwarves lingered here.

And they were not pleased with intruders.

---

An Impossible Battle

Unlike the Nightmare, these dwarven spirits were warriors.

They were not bound by fear, they were shackled by rage.

> The air grew heavy.

The temperature dropped.

The spirits stirred.

And their aura alone was enough to reveal the truth—

> They were of Sequence 8.

William narrowed his eyes.

Could they fight them?

> Maybe.

Could they win?

> Highly unlikely.

The Glorious Lantern had worked against the Nightmare, but these spirits were warriors—

Raw strength, not illusions.

And worst of all—

> They had no idea how many there were.

The ruins were huge.

This wasn't just any old dwarven tomb.

> It was the hall of a dwarven lord.

And where there is a lord, there is an army.

William made the call.

> "We're leaving."

Even if they fought their way inside, they had no guarantee of making it out alive.

There was no shame in retreating,

Only fools rushed toward death.

> The team turned back, vanishing into the darkness.

For now, they had avoided a disaster.

But the dwarven hall still stood behind them, its ghostly warriors watching.

Waiting.

And William knew, they would return someday.