Lord Of The Lost

The devil's horn had been sold for just twelve silver coins.

"That seems a bit low, considering the effort it took to slay the creature," William remarked with a raised brow.

But Hall, ever the practical one, shrugged it off. "Demonic materials are notoriously difficult to work with," he explained, as if it were common knowledge.

"Especially in a place like Border Town," he added with a sigh. Even in the more bustling Snow Wind Fortress, there wasn't much demand for items tainted with demonic energy. People were superstitious or just plain cautious; few would dare to handle or even consider using such materials.

Besides, this horn wasn't even from a purebred demon. It belonged to a lesser, a descendant. To most, that made it even less desirable, lowering its value further. Only a few places, like the Magic House, would be interested in such bizarre materials, and they often paid next to nothing for them.

William, ever the optimist, chuckled. "Give it some time. Soon, there'll be plenty of customers at your store, bringing in rare treasures. Mark my words."

His confidence wasn't unfounded. In the forums alone, there were dozens of players who had reached level six, and many were on the cusp of level seven. Once that happened, the thirst for exotic and valuable items would only grow.

"If it weren't for the long journey," he mused, "I bet someone would already be knocking on the Magic House's door today."

"Let them come." Calcifer's voice, deep and filled with unspoken wisdom, echoed from the shadows. "I'm curious to meet these new customers myself."

William smiled at his words but said nothing more. He gave a small wave and left the Magic House.

As soon as he was gone, Hall turned to Calcifer, eyes full of concern. "You're getting stronger, aren't you? Should we think about moving somewhere more secure?"

Calcifer shook his head slowly, his gaze fixed somewhere distant. "Not yet. The Misty Forest is perfect for hiding me, keeping me out of the Abyss's watchful eyes."

He paused for a moment, a sly smile forming on his lips. "Besides, Border Town is quite amusing these days, don't you think?"

There was a strange glint in Calcifer's eyes as he continued. "I've spent so long staring into the Abyss that I'd nearly forgotten the oddities of places like this. Even when I try to divine the future using astrology, this area remains a mystery. It's... intriguing."

Hall, however, was less enthusiastic. "But do we really need to buy so many materials?" he grumbled. "We're running out of space, and honestly, most of these things are just junk. I don't even want to use them as tripods, they're that bad."

Calcifer chuckled softly, his tone gentle but firm. "We buy what we can for now. When the time comes, we'll sell it all to the king, at a decent profit. Let him figure out what to do with the low-level magic junk. That's none of our concern."

Hall shot him a playful glare. "You're such a schemer."

Calcifer burst out laughing, a rare sound, warm and full of amusement. "Schemer? Perhaps. But remember, the kingdom pours its gold into airship research every year. Our little scheme here? It's just a drop in that vast ocean of spending."

Hall frowned. "But we're still low on funds ourselves."

Calcifer raised a brow. "Then we'll borrow from the reserves of the other shops. We've got guests to impress soon, and this Magic House could use a bit of a facelift, don't you think?"

With a sharp snap of his fingers, everything changed. The once modest, almost humble interior of the Magic House transformed in an instant. The walls expanded, stretching outwards, while brilliant murals and intricate stained glass windows sprouted from nothing, bathing the room in colorful light. The furniture rearranged itself as if by magic, moving into a more elegant and welcoming layout.

The space inside twisted and turned, like the gears of a giant Rubik's cube. Walls shifted, revealing hidden drawers that slid out one by one, each linked to a mysterious shop or hidden corner of the world. They opened and closed at lightning speed, flickering in and out of view in a dizzying display of magic.

"That should do for now," Calcifer said, satisfied with the result.

Hall, still slightly awestruck, nodded in agreement. "Just in time for the next wave of visitors."

A quick glance into the drawer revealed something astounding; hundreds of coins. Gold, silver, and copper spilled out, leaping from their compartments like they'd been given life. They organized themselves into neat lines, each type of coin forming a regiment, marching like disciplined soldiers in perfect synchrony.

They flowed past, one after another, like ants on a mission, their metallic gleam flashing in the dim light. The scene felt surreal, as if it belonged more to a dream than reality.

What had once been a quaint, western-style building had now blossomed into something far grander: a towering magical castle. The transformation was extraordinary. The castle sat regally on a sprawling green lawn, its walls wrapped in a thick, mystical fog. The mist swirled gently around it, giving the entire scene an ethereal, almost otherworldly beauty.

But Hall was unfazed. He'd seen this before, and the magic no longer surprised him. "Alright, fine. You have the final say," he muttered, accepting the situation. "Still, this whole town has turned into a mess. I honestly thought the war on the frontlines would stay there, far away from us, but clearly, I was wrong."

He let out an exasperated sigh. "I mean, I get the thieves and werewolves, sure, but how on earth is the knight from Knight's Landing still alive?"

Hall's voice rose with frustration, pacing the room as he continued. "You don't understand! This guy isn't just some ordinary knight. If word gets out that he survived, it'll shake the entire knightly order to its core. You'll have knights all over losing their nerve, their will to fight crumbling overnight."

His tone grew even more serious. "The tribesmen I sent out to investigate... they think something's fishy. It reeks of conspiracy, and I'd bet anything that the black magicians are behind it."

He paused, his brow furrowed in deep thought. "Calcifer, you think this might have anything to do with the Witch of the Wilderness?"

Calcifer, always calm in the face of danger, shook his head. "No, she's busy trying to break through Snowstorm Fortress right now. She doesn't have the time or energy to meddle in this. Besides, the Witch of the Wilderness would never align herself with black magicians."

His voice lowered, carrying a note of disdain. "She loathes all magicians, and black magicians, in particular, are nothing but insects to her. Not even worth licking the dirt from her boots."

Calcifer's expression darkened. "Even the most powerful dark sorcerer is no more than a crawling worm in his eyes. That's why she calls herself the Queen of Magic; no one else even comes close."

Hall's face drained of color. "Wait... The Witch of the Wilderness is coming 'here'? Calcifer, you have to do something! If he comes, this entire town is finihed. He's like a walking natural disaster!"

Calcifer's voice was soft, almost somber. "I know... but this is the fate that's been written for this place. Disaster is coming. Blood will be spilled, and many lives will be lost."

He lifted his head, though his face remained hidden within the deep shadows of his cloak. Only his eyes were visible: burning, fiery orbs that flickered with the intensity of a higher demon.

Within those flames, visions danced. He saw players: dozens of them, battling monsters in the depths of the Misty Forest. They fought relentlessly, leveling up, their blades flashing in the mist. The scene unfolded like a dark prophecy.

"Do you wish to survive... or perish?" Calcifer's flaming gaze remained fixed on the distant horizon, his voice heavy with the weight of fate.

…

Meanwhile, William understood all too well that the players' presence wouldn't go unnoticed for long. How could it? They were an odd bunch, appearing and disappearing from the world as they logged in and out, always hunting monsters, their numbers constantly growing.

It would have been a miracle if no one had noticed them by now.

Luckily, most players stuck to their own rules, behaving themselves well enough to avoid drawing too much negative attention... for now. But William couldn't help but feel that it was only a matter of time before things took a darker turn.

The main challenge we face right now is simple: we're new here, and if we don't make a good impression on the locals, we're going to hit roadblocks fast. Think about it. You can't just waltz into someone else's home and start rummaging through their things like a reckless adventurer. That's not bravery; that's a recipe for disaster.

Imagine some poor farmer catching you. He wouldn't hesitate to beat you to death with a hoe! People here might seem ordinary, but they're tougher than you think. Even the residents have their own levels, usually around two or three. These aren't your average folks from back on Earth. They're much stronger, their physical fitness far superior to ours.

Speaking of levels, they don't work the way you might expect. It's not a simple matter of doubling strength with each level. For example, being level 2 doesn't make someone twice as strong as a level 1. It's more like a significant boost to their overall fitness, but not a clean multiplier. I'm level 8 now, but I certainly don't feel eight times stronger than a regular person.

However, one thing is clear, those with higher levels are unquestionably more powerful than those below them. And what's even more obvious is that the baseline strength of humans in this world starts higher than what we were used to back on Earth.

But let's refocus. The locals in this magical world aren't just sitting around; they have their own ways of communicating and spreading news. When something important happens, word spreads fast, bouncing between villages like wildfire. It wouldn't take long for the people in the border town to know about us; the players.

Not that William cared much about what the mayor or the village chiefs thought of them. He had other priorities. Two days later, he got his hands on a piece of magic equipment, a real prize. Made by Calcifer himself, no less! Far superior to the trinkets crafted by the little witch, Little Red Riding Hood. There was no comparison.

William found himself back in Iron Ore Village, though only passing through. Curiosity led him to take a look around. The group blessing event was long over, and all the players who had been squatting in pits for protection had vanihed, likely off grinding levels elsewhere.

William's wandering brought him to the church, a modest but sturdy structure in the heart of the village. A guard stood at the entrance, but seeing the silver spear William carried; an item associated with a knight, the guard didn't even question him, assuming he was one of their own. Without hesitation, William entered.

Inside, the village's key figures were holding a tense meeting. The village chief, the priest, and a few other important villagers had gathered to discuss the growing issue of thieves. Bandit groups had appeared all over the border town, and it was an unsettling development. The fact that multiple bands of thieves had emerged at the same time felt suspicious, to say the least.

There had already been three or four attacks on nearby villages, and yet, there was little anyone could do. The hunters, who might normally step in to help, were preoccupied with hunting werewolves and didn't have the time to deal with these sudden raids. The village guards and patrols were spread too thin to go after the thieves themselves.

And that's the real problem. Thieves aren't like wild magical creatures; they're cunning. They know when to strike. If they notice that a village's defenses are weak or that the hunters are out chasing werewolves, they'll take advantage of the opportunity without hesitation. An empty village is practically an open invitation for them to swoop in and take whatever they want.