Lord Of The Lost

According to the sequence game, the Demon Wolf was no ordinary class; it was a hidden profession steeped in mystery. In the annals of this world's history, during an era long forgotten, beings of such epic potential had walked the land, leaving whispers of their power behind.

"This creature," the witch began, her voice a blend of reverence and awe, "was known to hunt gods themselves." She paused, letting the weight of her words sink in.

William leaned forward, captivated. "If a werewolf is a fusion of man and wolf, then the Demon Wolf is a blend of demon and werewolf?"

"Precisely," she confirmed, her eyes sparkling with knowledge. "But the chance of such a being being born is astronomically low, far rarer than any other species."

The witch continued, weaving a tale of ancient conflicts. "The Demon Wolf thrived during the ages when the gods ruled, stirring chaos and evading capture at every turn. Time and again, the gods attempted to hunt this elusive creature, yet they could never succeed."

William's imagination raced. "So, it was like a ghost to them?"

"Exactly," she replied, a hint of admiration in her tone. "Even with their combined might, the gods could not ensnare the cunning Demon Wolf. They laid traps across the heavens and the earth, but the creature remained a step ahead."

As she spoke, the room seemed to thrum with the echoes of the past. "At one point," she continued, "the Demon Wolf vanished completely from the world. Some say it fell in obscurity, dying alone, while others believe it simply slipped into legend."

The air grew thick with mystery. "That's incredible," William murmured, "but how do you know it really existed?"

The witch's expression turned serious. "I've learned much from the Witch of the Wilderness, my mentor. I know the truth; those tales were not mere fables. The Demon Wolf's keen intelligence and stealth made it impossible for anyone but the most powerful to uncover its existence."

William felt a chill at her words. "So there are only fragments of myths left?"

"Yes," she sighed, "many have sought the Demon Wolf, but all have failed. Now, however, with your emergence as a new extraordinary being on this path, it would send shockwaves through the entire world if discovered."

She paused, her brow furrowing. "A revelation like this could draw the attention of not just hunters, but the church, even my own teacher, the Witch of the Waste."

William's mind raced. "This could change everything, couldn't it?"

"Indeed," she replied, her voice laced with both excitement and trepidation. "It's like dropping a nuclear warhead into a tranquil pond. The resulting chaos would obliterate everything in its wake."

A moment of silence hung between them, heavy with the implications of her words. "The good news is," she continued, "this potential has been identified. The bad news is it's called the Demon Wolf."

William felt a shiver run down his spine as he began to grasp the enormity of this hidden profession. "So, I'm not just stepping into a new role. I'm becoming part of a legacy; a powerful, dangerous legacy."

The witch nodded, her expression grave. "Yes. You are awakening something that could reshape the very fabric of our world." The gravity of it all settled over them, igniting a mix of fear and anticipation in William's heart.

The witch leaned closer, her eyes glinting with mystery. "Are you surprised to see a glimpse of your future?"

William's heart raced. "I didn't expect to see anything at all!" he replied, confusion evident on his face. Just moments ago, he had only caught sight of the legendary Demon Wolf's past; the future remained shrouded in enigma.

The witch chuckled softly, aware of the challenge the Demon Wolf posed. "As a fortune teller, I can't see everything, especially with such a secretive entity. Even when peering into history, the true nature and whereabouts of the Demon Wolf elude even the most skilled seers."

Beside them, Little Red Riding Hood looked back and forth, her brow furrowed. "What's going on? What did you see?"

The witch's gaze turned serious as she posed a question that hung heavily in the air. "So, what is your choice?"

William hesitated, contemplating the power he had glimpsed. Finally, with newfound determination, he declared, "Witch, I understand now. I want to change my job!" The allure of harnessing the powers of werewolves and demons, especially in the form of the enigmatic Demon Wolf, was undeniable.

The witch's heart swelled with pride. "You're making a wise decision, young one. The path of the Magic Wolf is a hidden profession of incredible potential."

However, William's thoughts drifted to his aversion to dark races, and he felt a pang of hesitation. "But I'd still rather become a hunter…"

The witch raised an eyebrow, impressed by his clarity but sensing his internal conflict. "Fate has granted you a rare gift, and it's important to recognize its significance."

William grinned, excitement lighting up his face. "So, can you teach me the ritual to eliminate any extraordinary characteristics? I want to keep the path of the Demon Wolf clear of distractions!"

The witch couldn't help but chuckle softly, a mix of exasperation and amusement. "Why are you so stubborn, my dear? You might find the allure of the Demon Wolf too tempting to resist." Still, she recognized his determination. "But if you truly wish for the knowledge, I'll share it. After all, I came here hoping to witness the emergence of a second-generation Demon Wolf."

With a flick of her wrist, the wand lying amidst the debris soared into her hand. She tapped William lightly on the forehead, channeling ancient knowledge into his mind, a stream of energy and wisdom.

Just then, a game prompt echoed in the air.

[Game Tips: You have been playing for nearly eight hours today. Please control your game time and find a safe zone to log out.]

William felt a wave of satisfaction wash over him. He had gained invaluable insights from this encounter. "This trip to the Misty Forest will benefit my future immensely," he thought. The knowledge of rituals was a bonus, but unlocking a hidden path was the true treasure.

"I will remember your help," he said, offering a warm smile.

The witch shrugged, brushing off his gratitude. "You probably won't have the chance to repay me, given how weak you are now, despite your potential."

"You can repay me by not bothering me too much," she muttered with a playful smirk.

William laughed, waving goodbye as he gathered himself. Following her guidance, he spotted a shimmering Magic Dandelion nearby.

[Magic Dandelions: Their scattered paths will lead you safely out of the Misty Forest.]

With the dandelion in hand and a new path ahead of him, William stepped forward, ready to embrace the adventure that awaited.

Little Red Riding Hood stood in the dimly lit hut, surrounded by an array of bubbling cauldrons and the earthy scent of herbs. "Are you sure this potion will work, Witch?" she asked, glancing nervously at the bubbling concoction that shimmered ominously.

The witch, her eyes glinting with knowledge, nodded firmly. "Trust the process, dear. This werewolf potion requires precision and a steady hand." As they worked together, she deftly measured ingredients, her voice steady. "You see, the key is in the essence of the blood. It's powerful but can be dangerous."

Just then, a cacophony of howls echoed through the misty forest, sending chills down Little Red Riding Hood's spine. The witch paused, her expression turning grave. "The werewolves have broken free from their entanglement with the monsters. They'll be here soon, and their hunt will be ruthless!"

"What should we do?" Little Red Riding Hood asked, her heart pounding.

The witch raised her voice, projecting over the distant sounds of chaos. "Wolves, if you don't want to be poisoned in this forest, leave now!"

Meanwhile, William suddenly awoke from his experience, his mind racing with the knowledge he had absorbed. The thrill of the game still coursed through him, but he felt the weight of what he'd learned.

He gathered his thoughts on the advanced magical rituals he had just encountered. "These rituals could be incredibly powerful," he mused, "but the cost…"

He recalled the gruesome process: capturing a pure-blooded werewolf, stripping away its supernatural characteristics. The mere thought made him shudder. It was a dark and bloody magic, one that involved not just physical pain but a tearing of the soul.

"Stripping away extraordinary qualities is worse than skinning an animal," he thought, grimacing. "These characteristics are part of the essence of extraordinary beings. To take them is to inflict unimaginable suffering."

He pondered the steep price of such power. The negative emotions attached to the stripped characteristics; hatred, pain, and rage; would seep into anyone who dared to absorb them. "Without a strong will, how could anyone survive that?"

William shook his head, feeling a chill run down his spine. He imagined a mortal trying to digest these emotions, feeling their mind fray under the weight of another's anguish. "One could lose their identity completely," he murmured to himself, realizing the gravity of what he might face if he pursued this path.

Little Red Riding Hood, still in the witch's hut, continued to brew the potion, unaware of the dark thoughts swirling in William's mind. "I just want to help," she whispered, her determination fueling her as she added the final ingredient.

"Help? Or create more chaos?" the witch mused, casting a sidelong glance at the potion. "Power comes at a cost, and you must be prepared for what follows."

With the howls of the werewolves growing louder, both the witch and Little Red Riding Hood steeled themselves for the impending confrontation, aware that the choices they made could change their fates forever.