Lord Of The Lost

The biggest threat lurking in the shadows was the Playwright.

The "Writer" path was an advanced one, possessing four powerful abilities:

[Observation] – A heightened sense of perception, allowing the writer to see through disguises and uncover hidden truths.

[Role] – The deeper their understanding of a subject, the more control they could exert over it, turning people and things into characters in their narrative.

[Writing] – The power to create coincidences in fate—events that seemed natural, yet were orchestrated by their will.

[Script] – Characters in their story would, to some extent, act according to their script.

Both Calcifer and Black Swan had warned William:

Only divine paths were truly complete.

All other paths, whether high, medium, or low, were fragments, inherently incomplete.

A god could easily carve out a new higher path from their own divine authority. The God of Dreams and Prophecies had once been powerful enough to do just that.

The existence of the "Writer" path was proof of His authority. If He had wished, He could have spread this power across the world.

But He was gone now.

With His death, the "Writer" path had vanished as well, leaving behind only incomplete remnants.

Even if someone inherited the concept of being a "Writer," it was far from its true form.

This wasn't an isolated case, history was littered with lost advanced paths, swallowed by time itself.

That was why the Human Kingdom, which had successfully preserved and mastered three advanced paths, had become the dominant power in the world.

William turned to Alice and said calmly,

"We? No. It's me and the others; not you."

He knew exactly why Alice was so anxious.

This dwarven town had only reappeared because of the Scarlet Troupe.

Once the final act of their play, Dragon Slaying, concluded, the troupe would leave Long Lake Town.

And when they did, this entire town might vanish again.

What would happen to the outsiders trapped here then?

That was not a question that could wait.

Alice, in her current state, was powerless against the troupe. She had no choice but to place all her hopes on William.

The only way forward was to kill the Playwright and seize the [Anchoring Pen].

For William, the pen was also his goal. But there was a problem, Alice had observed that the Playwright didn't actually have the quill on him.

There was no guarantee that even if they killed him, they would gain the power to rewrite fate.

And worse, once the Playwright fell, the entire troupe would descend into chaos.

They weren't dealing with just one enemy.

Twelve extraordinary individuals would come after them, all at once.

Alice herself was merely an informant, not a fighter.

The Pavilion Master and the others were already outnumbered, each of them would have to face two opponents at once.

But even that wasn't the greatest danger.

The real problem was Changhu Town itself.

The dwarves weren't likely to take their side.

If the town guards got involved, there would be no escape, only surrender.

This wasn't something William could figure out on his own.

It wasn't a discussion to have with Alice, but rather with Metatron and the others.

Alice knew that William wasn't working alone. He couldn't afford to be.

If he were acting solo, there would be no way for him to steal the quill from the Playwright's grasp.

Her patience was wearing thin.

"So when are you going to start?" she pressed.

The fourth act had just ended. Only one final act remained.

In this precarious situation, even the contingency plan given to her by the Old Witch might not work.

And if she used it… she would lose all control over herself.

But William shook his head.

"Not yet. If we act too soon, we risk alerting the troops of Changhu Town. That would be a disaster."

His gaze darkened as he added,

"Besides… there are 13 members in the troupe. I've only seen 12."

"Where is the last troupe leader?"

A missing piece. A lurking danger.

The final act was about to begin.

The Mystery of the Troupe Leader

Alice froze.

"I… I don't know. I've never seen this person," she admitted, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

Then, as if recalling something, she added, "Oh, but the Playwright did mention the theater director once. She said the director exists in our dreams… That's why she forbade me from sleeping. At first, I thought it was just to stop me from disturbing the director."

But things changed.

Once the Playwright realized Alice had no intention of joining the troupe, the sleepless nights became more than just a rule.

They became a punishment.

"In a dream?" William's brows furrowed.

Could the troupe leader be some kind of dream-based extraordinary entity?

The more he spoke with Alice, the more he realized that the Scarlet Troupe was no ordinary band of thieves or con artists.

They had been performing since the era of the gods, that kind of longevity required something far beyond mere tricks.

As the saying goes, know yourself and know your enemy, and you will never be defeated.

Jumping in blindly, without fully grasping the opponent's strengths and weaknesses, was a one-way ticket to disaster.

And what worried him most was something Black Swan had told him.

When the Scarlet Troupe was supposedly destroyed, there was one person who mysteriously vanished, the troupe leader.

That destruction hadn't been some small skirmish; it had been an all-out assault by multiple major factions.

The troupe hadn't even had a chance to resist. They were wiped out without leaving a trace.

Yet the troupe leader was never found.

That alone was deeply unsettling.

William couldn't shake the feeling that whoever this leader was, they were at least at the level of Sequence 8.

Which meant trouble.

Normally, encountering an unfamiliar High-Sequence individual meant extreme caution.

You never knew their abilities. You never knew their intentions. And at Sequence 8, they had already crossed the threshold of being a major threat.

It was like encountering a wild beast in the dark, you didn't need to see its fangs to know it could kill you.

Instinct alone told you to be careful.

This principle was exactly why all known members of the Scarlet Troupe were Sequence 9—not too powerful, but still dangerous enough.

Had they been a troupe of higher-ranked extraordinaries, they would have drawn too much attention from powerful forces, and they would never have survived posing as mere traveling performers.

But if the troupe leader was indeed Sequence 8, they could easily stay hidden.

Which meant one thing:

There was a missing piece to this puzzle.

Black Swan had no idea about the troupe leader's true rank.

Alice, despite being inside the troupe, had never once seen them.

And that was odd.

No matter how secretive a leader is, shouldn't they at least show their face once?

William's expression darkened.

"We need to find out who this troupe leader is. Otherwise, we're completely in the dark."

Alice sighed.

Easy to say.

But inside the troupe, her status was barely above that of a pet.

Now, she wasn't even being fed properly. If she hadn't had a strong foundation, she might have collapsed long ago.

They had learned some things about the troupe, but the deeper secrets were still beyond their reach.

Still…

She needed William.

And William needed her.

"I'll try," Alice said at last, nodding.

Before William could say anything more, a low rumble of footsteps echoed through the dark corridor.

The troupe members were approaching.

The two quickly agreed to meet again tomorrow.

Then, like a whisper in the wind, William vanished.

The Playwright had just stepped out of a room.

And in that very moment, William had been standing right beside him.

For a brief, tense moment, the Playwright paused and scanned the surroundings.

Had he sensed something?

William held his breath, heart steady.

But after a moment, the Playwright moved on.

Still, it was a close call.

Too close.

From now on, lingering around the troupe was a dangerous gamble.

Because no matter how skilled you were, walk around at night long enough…

And sooner or later, you'd run into ghosts.

William returned to his designated spot, regrouping with the Pavilion Master and the others.

"How did it go?" someone asked.

William exhaled, gathering his thoughts, then gave them a brief but precise rundown of everything he had learned.

The pieces were slowly coming together.

But the biggest mystery still remained.

Who was the Scarlet Troupe's missing leader?

And what power did they truly wield?

A Meeting by Fate

Alice's unexpected arrival left everyone stunned.

But after considering Calcifer's connection to the Witch of the Wilderness, things started to make sense.

Calcifer had once been the Witch's apprentice.

He knew how to navigate the Lost Labyrinth, so it wasn't surprising that the Witch of the Wilderness did too.

Master and disciple had simply made the same choice, arriving at the same place by sheer coincidence.

Or at least, that's how it seemed.

The Pavilion Master had expected to encounter stranded players at some point.

It was just that the timing and location of this meeting were so unusual that the odds of it happening were almost impossibly low.

William broke the silence.

"Killing the Playwright is easy," he admitted. "But I can't guarantee we'll get the [Anchoring Pen]."

With his [Stealth] trait, assassinating the Playwright wouldn't be difficult.

But even if he did, there was no certainty that the Playwright would summon the Anchoring Pen before dying.

And if she didn't?

The quill might never be found again.

That uncertainty was enough to keep William from acting rashly.

Alice frowned. "So we have no idea what will happen if we kill the Playwright?"

William nodded. "Exactly. And there's something else—the troupe leader has never shown up even once. That makes me uneasy."

A heavy silence filled the air.

Then, as if sharing the same thought, everyone turned to look at Metatron.

Metatron remained calm, his expression gentle and unreadable.

Without saying a word, he touched his forehead.

A divine glow flickered across his eyes.

God's Perspective activated.