Lord Of The Lost

A Wyvern, Not a True Dragon

William and Sophia were both Sequence 9.

> Against a true dragon? They'd be nothing but appetizers.

But the target today wasn't a pureblood dragon, it was a wyvern.

> A subspecies.

Inferior, but still powerful.

It might not be worth as much as a true dragon, but it was still a worthy hunt.

And for William?

> The perfect first step toward something greater.

Without hesitation, William gripped the Dragon-Slaying Spear and left the dust-covered palace with Sophia.

Their destination was clear, the place where they had first encountered the wyvern.

Navigating the Lost Maze was never easy.

But William never got lost.

And neither did Sophia—though her ability to navigate was likely tied to her hat in some way.

Unlike William, who simply knew his way, Sophia relied purely on instinct and skill.

She had spent enough time in the maze to understand its dangers.

That alone gave William some peace of mind.

After all—

> She had been raised by Wolf Lord Iris, one of the strongest warriors he had ever seen.

Sophia: Strong, Stubborn, and Unstoppable

Of course, that didn't mean Sophia was easy to deal with.

She was arrogant, stubborn, and had a tendency to resolve conflicts with fists and kicks.

> Bossy, prideful, and always picking fights.

Most people wouldn't last long around her.

But William didn't mind.

> Because if anyone had the right to be arrogant, it was her.

Some tsunderes were all talk.

Sophia?

> She had the power to back it up.

She wasn't just naturally gifted, she was extraordinary from birth.

> A dual-path wielder, equally skilled in melee and magic.

And in the chaos of the Lost Maze, she was growing faster than ever.

Before, back in Border Town, she had never faced true life-or-death battles.

But now?

> She had been thrown into the fire, and she was forging herself into something terrifying.

Her combat instincts, her power—they were evolving at an unnatural pace.

And if that wasn't enough—

> Her background was even more unfathomable.

Not because of the Moonlight Goddess.

But because of her lineage as a witch.

Black Swan's Influence

The Black Swan didn't just watch over Sophia—she spoiled her completely.

> Whoever was on Sophia's side would always have the Black Swan's support.

That alone made her an invaluable ally.

Because having Black Swan around wasn't just about power—it was about knowledge.

> She was a walking encyclopedia of lost history.

So much had been erased over time.

So many treasures would have been missed if not for her guidance.

A Mutual Benefit

Of course, William wasn't just a free rider.

Black Swan was powerful in knowledge, but she was still trapped in a soul state, bound to a hat, unable to act on her own.

No matter how much she knew, she still needed someone to put it into practice.

> Sophia alone wasn't enough.

She needed more people who could act on her knowledge.

And William?

> He wasn't one to waste a good opportunity.

> Together, they could both gain something valuable.

The Role of Spiritual Oil

William's mind drifted back to the spiritual oil—the church's sacred substance, capable of suppressing the dark races.

> But power was never one-sided.

> If used differently, spiritual oil might also aid Black Swan's soul.

A master of mysticism like her would surely know how.

Witches were immortal in a way, they grew stronger with age, accumulating centuries' worth of knowledge and power.

Even just a few words of advice from Black Swan had already helped Metatron grow stronger.

> What if she regained her full strength?

> What if her soul was restored?

If William could help bring her back, it would be an unimaginable advantage.

And just like that—

> Spiritual oil had gained another purpose.

William stored these thoughts away.

He had plenty of time to deal with them later.

Right now—

> They had arrived.

He looked up.

The wyvern's lair loomed ahead—

A jagged cliffside, where an ancient structure radiated a faint, golden glow.

The Hunt Was On.

From a distance, the ancient structures built into the cliffside gleamed with an almost unnatural brilliance.

Unlike the crumbling ruins scattered across the maze, this place stood tall and proud, as if time itself had been unable to erase its grandeur.

At first glance, William assumed it was a dwarven temple.

But as they got closer, he realized—

> This wasn't dwarven architecture.

Dwarven buildings were sturdy, functional, and rough-hewn, meant to endure, not to impress.

But this?

> It was delicate. Ornate. A masterpiece of craftsmanship.

Every detail carried a sense of artistic precision, as if the very walls whispered of an epic lost to time.

And yet, inside this once-glorious place, an evil dragon now lurked.

It wasn't fully grown, its bloodline impure, and it hadn't yet reached the peak of Sequence 8.

But even so—

> It was still a dragon.

The Dragon Path was unlike any other.

Dragons had countless subspecies and this wyvern was just one of them.

> A dragon doesn't grow in power, it settles into it.

For a true dragon to reach its full potential, it needed centuries; if not millennia, to develop.

This one?

> It had been here for at least a century, long enough to claim the ruins as its own.

William and Sophia advanced cautiously, drawing closer to the entrance of the ruins.

Then—

A voice echoed from Sophia's hat.

> "This isn't dwarven… these are the remains of the elves," Black Swan murmured.

The elves had once been one of the greatest races, but like many before them, they had faded from history.

If the dwarven kingdom had been wiped out overnight, it would have been a tragedy beyond imagination.

But the elves?

> Their downfall wasn't sudden. It was slow. Painful. Their final drop of blood spilled across countless wars of the gods.

Now, the few remaining elves no longer formed kingdoms or tribes.

They had become scattered wanderers, clinging to a dying legacy.

Even Black Swan, with all her knowledge, had rarely encountered elves in her time.

All she had were old records, fading remnants of a lost age.

But as Sophia approached, Black Swan sensed it more clearly—

> This was, without a doubt, elven architecture.

During their prime, the elves had rivaled the dwarves, with their own high-level paths.

Unlike the dwarves, who built with stone and steel, elves had crafted harmonious wonders that merged magic and nature into something eternal.

> They worshipped the Gods of Nature.

Among all deities, this god stood just below the Primordial Moon and the Sun God in power.

Even now, the influence of that divine presence lingered in the ruins.

When humans came into power, they adopted many paths from other races.

From the elves, they had inherited the "Ranger" Path.

> The Ranger was the foundation of many low-level paths—

Shooter

Thief

Messenger

Scout

Even the White-Faced Owl of Border Town, which commanded small animals and could sense disturbances, came from this lineage.

But despite its potential, the Ranger Path never became mainstream.

According to Black Swan, the reason was simple—

> It wasn't suited for large-scale warfare.

The elves had always valued freedom, and their abilities reflected that.

Powerful? Yes.

But not easily mass-produced like warriors and knights.

Moreover—

Unlike the dwarves or humans, the elves had no structured inheritance system.

Without a "template" to pass down their power, training a single ranger took the same resources as training three to five warriors.

> From a practical standpoint, it simply wasn't worth it.

And so, the elves' influence faded—their knowledge lost, their buildings abandoned.

Which made these ruins all the more intriguing.

William and Sophia finally arrived at the ruins.

Standing at its base, they looked up at the towering, pristine structure.

It was intact—almost eerily so.

Despite thousands of years, the building had barely aged, as if time had been forbidden from touching it.

Golden light shimmered from within, forming a divine ring above, illuminating the dark sky.

This was no mere ruin.

> This place still remembered what it once was.

And deep inside—

> The dragon was waiting.

---

William and Sophia could feel it.

A presence of unmatched strength—tyrannical, dominant, exuding a pressure that made the air itself feel heavier.

> The wyvern had lived here for over a century.

And in that time, its aura had fused with the ruins.

This place had become a dragon's nest—

A territory of absolute dominance.

A place where lesser creatures dared not enter.

Even extraordinary beings would think twice before stepping inside.

> In a dragon's nest, a dragon's power is strongest.

Normally, this would be a huge problem.

> But for those coming to slay a dragon…

> It was nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

William gripped the Dragon-Slaying Spear tightly.

Sophia adjusted her hat, cracking her knuckles.

> This hunt was just getting started.

William and Sophia moved silently through the ancient corridors, stepping past the crumbling remnants of a forgotten age.

Then—

They saw it.

In the atrium, resting in the golden waters of an elven sanctuary, lay the wyvern.

> It was the undisputed ruler of this place.

Among Sequence 8 creatures, few dared to challenge a dragon's lineage.

Even in its impure, juvenile state, this wyvern stood unrivaled in the area.

William wasn't reckless enough to attack head-on.

> A fight against Sequence 9 opponents relied mostly on raw attributes.

Against Sequence 8? That was only part of the equation.

This wasn't just a test of power, it was a test of tactics, endurance, and risk calculation.

> If William had 10 units of energy, then this battle would drain 9 or even all 10.

Winning wouldn't kill him, but it would leave him too exhausted to fight again for the rest of the day.

And there was no guarantee of victory.

> The wyvern might escape.

They could both be badly wounded.

Or worse, William could lose completely.

Even if he won, the time, energy, and recovery cost would be enormous.

> The short-term gains weren't worth the risk.

But that didn't mean they wouldn't fight.

It just meant they had to strike first.