Lord Of The Lost

The latent powers of both the demon and werewolf within William lay dormant, quietly waiting for the right moment to awaken.

"When the time comes," the old witch had said, her voice low and filled with intrigue, "they will stir, and the forces within your body will come alive."

William had felt it; an unsettling, simmering energy deep inside him. These were no ordinary powers. The characteristics he absorbed were demon and werewolf, two paths that, while potent, were incomplete. And because of this, when his transformation began, he would only become a "half-werewolf" or "half-demon," never fully one or the other.

As a half-werewolf, the full moon would bring chaos, twisting him into a feral, bloodthirsty creature. His humanity would fade under the night's silver glow, replaced by a monstrous urge to hunt. Meanwhile, the half-demon form carried a different, more insidious curse, his body would slowly warp, demonizing piece by piece.

Over time, his human appearance would erode, replaced by dark, demonic features, turning him into something unrecognizable, something trapped between worlds.

"These side effects," the witch had warned, "come from the incomplete nature of your transformation. But it's not permanent. There are ways to either complete the paths or rid yourself of this curse."

William knew others like him had sought out ancient, secret rituals in the hopes of completing their transformations. Those who longed to fully embrace their demonic or lupine nature often succeeded, becoming true demons or werewolves. But the process was dangerous, and few dared to take the risk.

The alternative was far more difficult: lifting the curse entirely, an option known to be rare, but not impossible.

The witch herself was an expert in such matters. She was versed in ancient, forbidden knowledge, having studied rituals that could elevate or destroy. "There are many who possess extraordinary abilities," she said, her eyes gleaming, "dragons, giants, angels; these beings hold the true power in the world. Werewolves? Demons? They are, at best, average among such creatures."

The demon tribe, for instance, was vast, but only the highest-ranking demons could compete with the likes of dragons or giants. Yet, William was unique. For the first time, the witch had encountered someone touched by both the werewolf's curse and the demon's dark magic. This was no ordinary convergence of power, and it reminded her of a legend she'd once heard, a tale too vague to recall in full.

When William asked about the ceremony to disperse his dual nature, the witch seemed almost... disappointed.

"You would give up such an advantage?" she asked, her voice edged with curiosity.

William hesitated. "The power of both werewolf and demon is growing inside me at once. I'm not sure if I can control it," he admitted.

The witch's eyes narrowed. She wasn't about to let such a rare opportunity for study slip away. He reminded her of Little Red Riding Hood; a figure steeped in dual paths due to her peculiar background. But William was something else entirely. His abilities were a natural confluence, a pure, raw combination of the two. She had no intention of letting him go.

If her mentor, the fabled Witch of the Wilderness, were here, she would likely imprison him, eager to dissect every inch of his transformation.

"Worry not," the witch said, her voice softening. "This is a gift. A rare opportunity."

William tilted his head, still uneasy. "What if... what if there are more ways? More paths?" he asked, half to himself.

The witch burst into laughter, a sound full of mirth and condescension. "More paths? Mortals and their fantasies!" She waved her hand dismissively. "The dual path is the limit. No one has ever mastered more than that. Impossible!"

But William wasn't so sure. Her mocking laughter only fueled the quiet certainty growing within him. Impossible or not, something told him he was destined for more than just two paths. Something greater awaited him beyond this struggle.

The ritual to eliminate supernatural characteristics was not something one could stumble upon; it had to be learned, mastered even. But once William took the life of a supernatural being, his innate talent would kick in, allowing him to absorb the creature's unique abilities.

The witch, who once viewed this idea with disdain, now regarded it with an intensity that bordered on obsession. To her, this was no longer just an intriguing possibility, it was a treasure trove of potential. And if she was amazed by two ways to harness these supernatural traits, the third would surely leave her speechless. Then came the fourth, the fifth...

Yet to William, none of this felt miraculous. If anything, it was a recipe for disaster.

He had seen it before. When a gifted individual slays a supernatural entity whose traits align with their nature, they absorb those very traits. But William knew that this path, though filled with power, could be as dangerous as it was enticing. The talent he possessed; this ability to "kill to prove the truth" was both a blessing and a curse.

It allowed him to absorb any supernatural power, making him a vessel for limitless potential.

But the more he killed, the more supernatural characteristics built up within him, layering one upon the other. The complexity would increase. Conflicts between those powers seemed inevitable, if not disastrous.

"How can I keep adding to this without losing myself?" William thought, his mind racing. The question that weighed on him most was not whether he could wield this many abilities, but whether there was any career path: any transformation; that could contain such a vast array of powers.

Should he trust his talent and continue hunting down as many supernatural beings as he could? Or should he follow the more cautious path, choosing to develop slowly, one step at a time?

For William, the choice was clear. "One cannot bite off more than they can chew," he told himself. He understood that before moving forward, before shifting into a new form, he couldn't risk accumulating too many abilities. If he did, the resulting transformation might spiral out of control, with unpredictable consequences.

Now, standing at the crossroads of his journey, three distinct paths lay before him: Hunter, Werewolf, and Demon.

William found himself leaning toward becoming a Hunter. After all, this was the extraordinary path meant for humans, a way to evolve while maintaining one's humanity. Werewolves had long since degenerated into a dark race, a fate William wasn't eager to embrace.

But the witch? She was baffled by his hesitation.

"Do you have any idea how high your starting point is?" she exclaimed, rubbing her temples in frustration. "Other children spend their lives dreaming of getting into a prestigious school like Tsinghua or Peking University. But you—" she gestured wildly toward him—"you already have the acceptance letter in your hands! How can you not bow in gratitude to fate? How can you even think about walking away?"

William remained thoughtful, unfazed by her outburst. "If I don't eliminate these supernatural characteristics, should I become a werewolf? Or a demon?" he asked, his voice steady.

The witch's eyes lit up with understanding. She realized what he was truly asking. "You don't need to worry about that," she said, her tone softening. "You're blessed by two paths at once. Werewolf, demon... it doesn't matter who you become.

Your very existence confirms an ancient legend."

"Legend?" William's curiosity piqued. "What legend?"

The witch smiled, her eyes glinting with the knowledge of something ancient and powerful. "A legend of god-killers."

With a flick of her wrist, the witch summoned her crystal ball, making it hover mid-air between them. She began chanting in an ancient tongue, her words weaving through the air like a spell. Suddenly, the crystal ball exploded in a burst of light, illuminating the room with a brilliance that was impossible to ignore.

William's attention was drawn in, completely captivated by the sheer magnitude of what he was witnessing.

Whatever this legend was, it was tied to something far greater than he had ever imagined.

[Special Tip: The witch has performed a divination on you.]

As William stood before the witch, the air crackled with energy. She gazed into her crystal ball, her voice echoing with an ancient resonance. "When the devil is no longer a devil, and the werewolf ceases to be a werewolf, their paths will inevitably diverge."

[Game Tips: When the powers of demons and werewolves intersect, the hidden force of fate is awakened, giving birth to a new path!]

William's heart raced as the prompts flickered on the panel before him, vivid and enticing. It felt as if the very fabric of destiny was unraveling at his fingertips. "What does that mean?" he asked, his voice steady despite the thrill coursing through him.

The witch smirked, her eyes gleaming with knowledge. "It means that your choices will shape not just your future, but the very essence of who you are. A unique path awaits, one that few have dared to tread."

Suddenly, the panel continued to refresh, revealing deeper insights.

[Background Tips: You glimpsed the past and future in your divination, gaining world awareness +1.]

William squinted at the latest update. "Demon Wolf: An epic mutant race." The words resonated with a sense of majesty and power.

"As the fog of history lifts, the hidden path of destiny begins to reveal itself," the witch continued, her voice low and melodic.

He was drawn into a vision of the Demon Wolf, an elusive figure from ancient times, born during the "Magic Century." It was said that this creature roamed the realms of myth, a being so powerful that no one had ever truly witnessed its true form. "It hunted gods," the witch murmured, her tone filled with awe, "but then... it vanished."

The image in the crystal ball shifted, showing the Demon Wolf in action. William could almost feel the rush of wind as it sprinted effortlessly across vast landscapes. It became a streak of darkness, blurring past mountains and rivers until it broke free from the atmosphere, soaring into the cosmos.

"Look at it go," he breathed, entranced. "Is that… space?"

"Yes," the witch confirmed, her eyes wide with excitement. "The planets became mere scenery to its speed. But see how it uses the moon as a stepping stone?"

In a graceful leap, the creature vaulted into the starry void, its sleek form framed against the infinite backdrop of twinkling stars. William marveled at the sight: a slender, majestic figure with hair as dark as night and eyes like polished obsidian, full of elegance and enigma.

But then, as it soared into the unknown, the Demon Wolf turned back, as if sensing William's gaze through the veil of time. Its piercing eyes seemed to cut through the ages, locking onto his.

"Oh no," William thought, a chill running down his spine. "That's a ghost!"

The realization hit him hard. The Demon Wolf had noticed him, and they were sharing an eerie, unspoken connection across the expanse of history.

"Can it really see me?" he whispered, his heart racing.

The witch chuckled softly, sensing his fear. "It's a reflection of your potential. Embrace it, and you may just find your place among the legends."

But the weight of that thought hung heavily in the air. How could he step into a destiny so vast, so intertwined with the very fabric of the supernatural? As the visions continued to swirl around him, William felt both exhilarated and terrified, caught in a dance between fate and choice.