Lord Of The Lost

[True Form].

Those two words burned into William's vision, sending a chill down his spine.

His pupils trembled. His breath hitched.

When did this happen?

How did this happen?

Then it clicked.

The Advent Body System; Their Safety Net

Players entered this world as descendants, not mere projections or avatars.

Their Advent Body was more than a vessel—it was a game mechanism that ensured their safety.

Even if they died, they would respawn—with a price, but still returning.

William had learned this the hard way on that fateful full moon night, when he died for the first time.

The penalty for death wasn't just a reduction in mental value.

It was a shadow of death itself lingering in their very being.

Most players never realized this, but he did.

When a descended body dies, the spiritual force within it becomes tainted, not permanently, but enough to leave a mark.

This taint was a form of inertia, an echo of death's pull.

The only reason players could return was that some force in this world revived that spiritual power, overriding the death instinct.

But now; something had changed.

Death was never just a transition for supernatural beings.

Their extraordinary qualities were tied to the fabric of existence itself.

When an extraordinary being dies, their transcendent traits don't simply vanish.

Instead, they:

1. Disperse into the world, waiting for a new host.

2. Are absorbed by another lifeform, triggering rebirth.

3. Become corrupted remnants, tainted by death's inertia.

This is why rituals were required to purify these leftover supernatural traits.

Without purification, those traits couldn't be used to make potions or bestow new powers.

And the more times a transcendent died, the deeper the contamination became.

William, as a Demon Wolf, had the ability to shake off the inertia of death.

But even he had his limits.

If he died five times in a row, he wasn't sure he could come back.

This was the real cost of repeated deaths.

Each death dragged you closer to true oblivion.

For an ordinary transcendent, two or three consecutive deaths were enough to reach the critical threshold, the point of no return.

Players Had Always Had One Major Advantage

They had extra lives.

Where the natives of this world had only one chance, players had two, three, maybe even four.

And once they reached a high enough level, dying in a border town became nearly impossible.

They had ways to protect themselves.

But that only applied to their Advent Bodies.

Their real bodies?

One death. That's it.

The Horror of the Realization

William's heartbeat hammered in his chest.

His hands clenched around the game panel.

He forced himself to read those words again.

[Status: True Form]

His descended body had vanished.

He wasn't just playing a game anymore.

If he died now… he would die for real.

This Was a Nightmare

William shivered.

No.

It wasn't just him.

The entire team—Metatron, the Forum Master, the Gambler, Sophia—all of them had been dragged into this.

They had entered the maze knowing full well that they might face challenges beyond their ability—even total annihilation.

But they had never planned to risk their real lives.

And now, without warning, without any notification, the safety net was gone.

No respawn. No second chances.

If they died here…

It was truly over.

A Shocking Revelation

None of them had expected this.

For the first time, they faced a crisis on this scale, only to be blindsided by something far worse.

"How did they do this?"

William forced himself to calm down.

He had seen strange and terrifying abilities before, like the Wolf Lord Mott, who had the power to curse a player's real body.

Back then, he hadn't flinched.

So why should he panic now?

Still, the implications were terrifying.

Their status had been altered, and not a single one of them had noticed when or how.

William's expression darkened.

In the real world, the game interface always displayed [Login].

When playing in Advent Body mode, that button changed to [Logout].

But now…

When William checked, he saw the two had switched places.

It was as if this world was now reality and the "real world" had become just another game session.

A force had flipped their reality.

And the worst part?

William didn't know if this force had hacked into the Sequence Game itself…

…or if it had acted directly on them.

If it's the former… that would be terrifying.

Test #1: Logging Back into "Reality"

William didn't hesitate.

He clicked [Login].

Suddenly, his vision blurred.

He opened his eyes.

A familiar ceiling. A familiar bedroom.

He sat up and looked at the mirror beside him.

Staring back at him was a handsome young man in casual modern clothes, his expression dark and serious.

William exhaled.

"So… my real body is now my Advent Body?"

The sheer depth of this mystery was far beyond what he could comprehend.

But one thing was certain.

They had been flipped.

Their true selves were now inside the Sequence Game.

And the game… had become their real world.

Test #2: Logging Back into the Maze

William didn't waste time.

He logged out of "reality" and immediately reappeared inside the tavern.

The warm, yellow candlelight flickered across the wooden tables.

Sofia sat across from him, quietly eating her barbecue, her small fingers grasping the food delicately.

William felt a strange sense of relief wash over him.

Nothing to be afraid of.

Sofia wasn't a player.

She was always at risk of dying—just like them now.

But she was still here, alive, eating.

For some reason, that was reassuring.

The golden glow of the pub made everything feel almost normal.

Until the Forum Master and Metatron stepped inside.

William immediately knew something was wrong.

Their faces were grim.

Metatron, the ever-calm tactician, looked uneasy.

And the Forum Master?

Furious.

William didn't need to ask.

He simply raised an eyebrow.

"You two first, or me?"

The Forum Master's lips pressed into a tight line.

"You go first."

William nodded.

"Check your game panel."

The second they saw [True Form], their faces twisted.

The Forum Master's expression turned so dark, William swore he could see storm clouds forming above his head.

Especially Metatron, he looked like he'd just eaten something rotten.

Losing their biggest advantage as players...

It was like eating a fly the size of a dragon.

William sighed.

"Your turn."

What the Forum Master Discovered

The Forum Master exhaled sharply.

"I asked Alex to leave this town."

Silence.

"Didn't work. We're trapped here."

William's eyes narrowed.

"We can see the outside world… but the moment Alex tried to leave, the space just stretched infinitely. No matter how far he walked, he never got further than where he started."

"We're in a cage."

William's mind raced.

A time-locked town. A false past that had somehow become real.

And no way out.

"We're 1,845 years in the past," the Forum Master continued.

"This town, Changhu Town, is under the rule of the King of the Lonely Mountain. Population: 24,000.

120 Sequence 9 warriors as soldiers.

60 elite Sequence 9 guards.

And at least a few Sequence 8 officers."

William's fingers tapped the table.

A stronghold of dwarves.

If things went south, there was no way they were fighting their way out.

What Metatron Discovered

Then Metatron spoke.

"This town is in a special period," he said.

"The Scarlet Troupe has arrived."

William frowned.

"The what?"

"A traveling performance group," Metatron explained.

"They specialize in tragedies.

But their performances are… different.

They make the audience experience the play firsthand. Like you're living inside it."

William immediately felt uneasy.

"Go on."

"The crown prince of Lonely Mountain came here specifically to see them.

They've been performing for four days now.

Tomorrow is their final show.

Once it's over… they're leaving.

The dwarves assume we're just travelers who came here to see them perform."

The Pieces Click Into Place

William stared at them both.

"So, to summarize…"

1. We're trapped in a town from the past.

2. Our real bodies are inside the game.

3. Something changed the rules without us knowing.

4. This town isn't normal.

5. A mysterious troupe is performing tomorrow, the last day.

William inhaled deeply.

"Alright," he said finally.

"Looks like we better get front-row seats."

Sophia's eyes darkened. The deep red of her pupils now held a shadowy depth, as if another pair of eyes were watching from within.

She muttered under her breath, "The Scarlet Troupe? Hah… a certain god loves a good tragedy, so they created one."

A god who loves tragedy?

In theory, all gods have followers.

The Scarlet Troupe was devoted to the God of Prophecy and Dreams—a deity who adored tragedy and rewarded them generously.

Yet, even the most favored followers cannot act with impunity.

The troupe became infamous. When their dark truth was exposed, they were hunted down, erased from history, and swept away like a ripple in time.

But none of that matters anymore.

Their god has long since fallen. A thousand years later, few remember the Scarlet Troupe, and even fewer care about their demise.

They were bit players in the grandest tragedy of all—the last great war of gods.

That war shattered civilizations.

The once-mighty Dwarf Kingdom crumbled. The echoes of its downfall still linger in the ruins of the labyrinth.

Only the witches, ancient and unbroken, still remember what truly happened.

When the Scarlet Theater fell, its relics were scattered across the world.

Among them, two artifacts stood above all others:

[The Anchoring Quill] – A pen that writes reality itself.

[The Cursed Sonata] – A melody that commands fate.