Lord Of The Lost

The diary came to an abrupt end.

William blinked in surprise, staring at the last shaky line on the page. As he flipped through the earlier entries, he noticed how the handwriting had become increasingly erratic, almost unreadable. It was as if the writer's mind had gradually unraveled, a descent into madness that mirrored the disturbing events they described.

The entries after little Bob entered the Black Forest were the worst. The writing was jagged and frantic, smeared in places, as though written in haste or desperation. By the time the diary's owner had fully transformed into... something else, the letters were a horrifying mess of jagged strokes, thick and red like splatters of blood.

Each word seemed to pulse with a chaotic energy, making William's head throb the longer he looked at it.

He rubbed his temples. It wasn't just the disturbing nature of the diary that was getting to him; it was the mental strain. Reading it for so long had drained him. His training as a hunter had taught him the importance of mental resilience, but even his considerable experience wasn't enough to fully shield him from this. The madness in those pages gnawed at his mind.

"Little Bob…" William muttered to himself, pacing the room. The kid clearly had memory problems. The diary had hinted at that much. But what worried William more was the mystery at the heart of it all: what had followed little Bob out of the Dark Forest? The entries were vague, fractured, no clear answers, just more questions. Something unnatural had attached itself to Bob, something twisted.

William's headache worsened. It felt like his brain was screaming for rest, a break from the onslaught of confusing thoughts and disturbing revelations.

Snap!

He slammed the diary shut, the sound echoing through the small room. For a moment, he just stood there, staring at the closed notebook with a mixture of frustration and exhaustion.

"This thing will drive me insane," he muttered. "I'll deal with it later."

Right now, his priorities needed to shift. The mystery of little Bob and the Dark Forest could wait. First things first, William needed to eat. His stomach growled as if to remind him just how long it had been since his last meal. His body felt weak from hunger and the strain of reading that accursed diary.

"I'll improve my strength before worrying about anything else," he decided, his voice firm. "No point in getting stuck on something I can't solve yet."

He mentally pushed the thoughts of [Piercing Attack] to the back of his mind. Today wasn't the day to dwell on that skill. Sure, he'd managed to shave the charge time from five seconds down to two, but instant casting still seemed far off. Each improvement took longer now, and while practice was essential, he knew better than to obsess over it.

He would keep training it; slowly but surely, he'd build it into muscle memory. One second or less, and then he'd have mastery.

But that was for another time.

William's current focus shifted to another matter entirely: the [Stripping Ceremony]. It was a vital skill he needed to refine, especially as he continued to level up and face greater challenges. He was juggling so many tasks, honing his combat abilities, deciphering the mystery of the diary, leveling up and it never felt like there was enough time for it all.

The road from level 8 to level 9 seemed endless. He needed 600 experience points; three times what it had taken to move from level 7 to 8. It was a daunting prospect. And with the diminishing experience he was getting from lower-level monsters, William knew he had to be strategic. Grinding mindlessly wouldn't get him anywhere.

He needed to focus on a bigger picture. A job change would be the next logical step.

But all of that could wait until after he took care of his immediate needs. With a full stomach and a quick nap, his energy would be restored, and he'd be ready for the next challenge.

-----

Several hours later, William woke from a deep, dreamless sleep. His body felt refreshed, his mind clearer than it had been in days. He stretched, cracking his knuckles and rolling his neck. His earlier fatigue had melted away, replaced by a sense of calm focus.

It was time.

He was ready to enter the sequence game again, a necessary part of his journey toward strength and mastery. His encounters in the abandoned mine had honed his instincts, and he was confident that there weren't many monsters left there to challenge him. But he would find out soon enough.

With renewed determination, William strapped his weapons to his side and headed out, ready to face whatever came next. The diary, the mysteries, the danger; they could all wait. For now, he would build his strength, one fight at a time.

The mine was filled with resentful monsters, their twisted forms lurking in the shadows. But one by one, William had eliminated them with the help of his steadily developing lantern, which had grown stronger with every victory. Yet, as he stood over the last fallen creature, he could feel the weight of his demonic traits bearing down on him.

The progress bar for these traits was nearly full, signaling that time was running out before he would have to deal with the consequences of this growing power.

William knew he couldn't delay any longer. He needed to perform the stripping ceremony before the demonic energy within him became too much to control. The burden of carrying these traits was becoming painfully clear.

His first task was to carve out a magic circle to anchor the ritual. He found a relatively flat spot on the rocky, uneven floor of the mine and began the painstaking process of etching the intricate ritual array. The mine was pitch-black, so dark that he couldn't see his own hand in front of his face. But William wasn't bothered by the lack of light.

His adaptability to darkness had grown over time, thanks to the devilish influence coursing through his body. It was almost like having night vision; his heightened senses allowing him to perceive his surroundings even in the oppressive gloom.

Of course, his demonic traits were incomplete. He hadn't yet gained the full [Dark Vision] skill, but what he had was good enough for now.

With his iron spear, William began scratching the ritual patterns into the rock.

Sizzle! Sizzle!

The sharp tip of the spear screeched against the hard stone, sparks flying as the metal ground away at the earth. Each stroke felt like a strain on both him and the weapon. He knew the spear wasn't built to last; it was already in poor shape, its edges dulled from previous battles. Still, he pressed on, carving each intricate line with precision.

After more than ten failed attempts and nearly half an hour of work, William finally completed the ritual circle. He wiped the sweat from his brow and inspected the tip of his spear. It was almost worn down to a stub.

"This ceremony is such a hassle," William sighed, his voice echoing down the mine's narrow tunnel. The frustration was evident in his tone, but he knew the effort was necessary. Stripping away the devil's influence was no small task, and the ritual would only get harder from here.

The real peeling ceremony, the one required to fully separate demonic traits; was far more demanding. It required perfect timing, specific environmental conditions, and rare auxiliary supplies. William's makeshift ceremony was simple by comparison.

The timing wasn't ideal, and the supplies he had managed to gather, like the tail of a demonized salamander and the gallbladder of a demonic python, were fresh but far from perfect. It was more of an improvisation than a carefully planned ritual.

But the mine's dark, oppressive atmosphere was the perfect environment. The energy here was thick with malevolent power, a place soaked in darkness and decay. If there was any spot to attempt such a ritual, it was here.

William glanced around. Once he left the mine, it would be nearly impossible to find another place with such a strong dark presence. He had to make the most of it, even if the conditions weren't perfect.

After ensuring everything was in place, William took a deep breath. The ritual was ready, but he wasn't quite ready to begin. Instead of lying down to start the process, he gripped his spear and decided to venture deeper into the mine. Something was pulling him further into the depths; a sensation, a tug at the edge of his awareness.

Following that feeling, he soon encountered another beast: a massive, demonized spider, its eight legs twitching as it skittered along the stone walls. Its beady eyes gleamed with hunger, and it lunged at him, venom dripping from its fangs.

William moved swiftly, his spear slicing through the air as he danced around the spider's attacks. The battle was fierce, but after a few intense moments, the creature lay dead at his feet. He could feel the rush of energy as the spider's demonic traits flowed into him, adding to the growing storm inside.

With the spider defeated, William gained more than ten points of demonic characteristics and 15 experience points. It was a small victory, but every bit counted.

Now, only one monster remained. He could sense it lurking in the farthest reaches of the mine.

William turned his gaze toward the deepest tunnel, where the darkness seemed even thicker, almost alive. There, in the shadows, something waited.

He would face it soon enough. But first, he had a ceremony to complete.

The moment William stood at the entrance of the deepest mine tunnel, he could feel the overwhelming dark aura oozing out, wrapping around him like a heavy fog. It wasn't just an ordinary dark presence; this was something far more powerful, something ancient. The aura pulsed, almost alive, as if the mine itself was breathing, and at its center lay something that ruled this forsaken place like a king.

His demonic traits stirred within him, sending a sharp warning through his mind, a reminder of the danger ahead. Whatever lay in the depths wasn't just another monster. It was something much more formidable.

William took a deep breath, steadying himself. Gripping his spear tightly, he stepped into the tunnel, the darkness swallowing him whole.

[Battle Tips: You have encountered a demon dog]

[Demon Dog: Once an ordinary stray raised by iron miners, it carries a trace of demon blood. Over time, it absorbed demonic energy, purifying its blood and transforming into a creature on the verge of becoming a full demon!]

The notification flashed before William's eyes, and he froze for a moment, shock tightening his chest. His gaze snapped to the hulking form lurking ahead.

The demon dog stood there, massive and menacing, its muscular frame packed with raw power. Its body was as large as a bull, with muscles rippling beneath its thick, dark fur. A pair of gleaming fangs jutted from its snarling mouth, from which a hot, sulfuric breath poured out. A single twisted devil horn protruded from its head, pulsing with dark energy.

William's mind raced. He had fought plenty of monsters before, but this one was different. It wasn't just any creature; it was a 'BOSS' monster. The kind that came with the weight of a serious challenge.

But even though it was close to becoming a true demon, it hadn't crossed that threshold yet. There was still a chance.

The demon dog didn't charge at him like the other beasts in the mine had. It remained where it was, rising slowly to its feet, its eyes locking onto William. It didn't snarl or lunge, but its presence alone was enough to send a shiver down William's spine. The beast was calculating, sizing him up, and it felt more like facing a warrior than an animal.

This creature had been waiting for him.

The demon dog had been dormant for years, resting in the heart of the mine, nourished by the demonic energy that filled the air here. It had no need for food or water; only the dark power sustained it. For so long, it had slept, undisturbed in its self-imposed exile.

But recently, it had heard the sounds of footsteps, battles raging through the tunnels. Someone was clearing the mine, one tunnel at a time, cutting down the other monsters like they were nothing. William had fought his way here, and the demon dog had listened to every fight, waiting for this moment.

Now, they were face-to-face.

The demon dog had forgotten why it had stayed in this cursed mine for so long. It had forgotten why it refused to leave. It could have walked away anytime, but something kept it here, guarding the deepest part of the mine. When the miners had first unleashed the demonic power in this place, it had wiped them out in an instant; like a scythe cutting through a field of straw.

Only the demon dog had survived, spared by some twist of fate.

And then, when the demon's power had risen, an ancient evil ready to claim the mine, a figure had appeared; wrapped in an endless blizzard, cold as death itself. The 'Knight of Blizzard' had arrived, slaughtering the demon before it could fully emerge, smothering the evil in its cradle. The power that had spilled out from the battle had lingered in the mine, darkening everything it touched.

For the demon dog, that icy storm had brought memories of a different time, of a different life. It remembered being a small, helpless puppy, shivering on the side of the road during a harsh winter. A miner, a kind soul, had found it, scooping it into his warm arms and bringing it here to the mine. Many of the miners had fed it with their own hands, treating it like part of their family.

Among them was a young guard, always training with his spear during his watch shifts. The dog had never forgotten that guard. Even now, the sight of William's spear stirred something deep inside it; an old, long-buried memory.

The dog had never left the mine since. It hadn't known why then, and it didn't understand why now. All it knew was that it had stayed, bound to this cursed place, guarding the tunnel like a sentinel.

And behind it; behind the demon dog; lay the source of all this darkness. The heart of the disaster.

For decades, the demon dog had stood watch, allowing nothing to pass.

It lowered its stance now, preparing to face William, eyes locked onto him with deadly intent.

This was its territory.

And no one was allowed to cross.