LOTM: Seekers

36. Got Lost

At the moment, I was walking alongside Emlyn on the way to his home—his sanctuary filled with his beloved companions. Unlike the other staff at the shop, I didn't hold any official position, which meant I had the freedom to come and go as I pleased.

Emlyn, who now seemed to regard me as a kindred spirit, spoke animatedly about the elegance and charm of dolls. His eyes lit up with passion as he described the craftsmanship, the personality, and the silent presence that each doll carried.

It stirred a distant memory in me—of my own collection of anime action figures. When it came to appreciating the artistry of small, articulated figures, I wasn't about to lose out. I knew the allure of a meticulously crafted figure—like a blue-haired girl in twin tails with a strange voice.

We clicked surprisingly well.

But as we walked further, I began to notice something odd. Emlyn's expression gradually shifted—his eyes darted from side to side, scanning the surroundings with increasing unease.

"Are you lost, Sir?" I asked casually, though my curiosity was piqued.

"Lost? Me?" he scoffed. "Of course not. It's just... a side effect of an item I possess. Temporarily interferes with my sense of direction. It'll pass soon," he added, brushing off the concern with a wave.

…

Item?

Lose your way?

Some words—no, warnings—and fragments of grim imagination flashed through my mind.

Wait a second. Isn't that… that damn cursed item from the Apprentice pathway?

Sh*t. I'm doomed. I wasn't exactly blessed by the goddess of luck.

Cold sweat began to trickle down my back as I realized—

We still hadn't found the right path.

Damn it. Apprentice pathway items always come with the worst side effects.

Just as we turned the next corner, the sight hit us like a hammer.

A beast-like creature was gnawing viciously on a young woman's body. Blood, flesh, and the sickening sound of tearing filled the air.

F**k.

I immediately turned to gauge Emlyn's reaction. He was clearly surprised, his eyes briefly widening—but to his credit, he stayed calm.

"We need to leave. Now," he whispered, his voice steady.

Without hesitation, he spun on his heel and began walking away briskly. I followed silently, trying not to breathe too loudly.

However…

"Grrooa—"

A guttural growl echoed from behind us, and at the same time, I felt a sudden heaviness sink into my limbs. My steps became sluggish, like I was wading through thick mud.

"Tch." Emlyn clicked his tongue, spun around, and raised a hand toward the approaching beast. Shadows surged at his command, coiling through the air before solidifying into chains of living darkness that lashed toward the creature.

The hound-like monstrosity snarled and evaded the chains

While Emlyn handled the front, I quietly slipped my thread into motion behind his back. Out of his line of sight, silken threads unfurled from my fingertips, weaving into a long shaft. At the same time, I summoned Uriel's flame to forge a gleaming edge at one end.

A scythe—its form growing clearer by the second.

Meanwhile, claw-like hands emerged from the shadows, aiming to grab hold of the creature from behind. But the beast, unnervingly quick for its size, seemed to have sensed it coming. With a sharp twist of its body, it dodged the grasping limbs and leapt backward, snarling.

"Tch." Emlyn clicked his tongue again. 'This is going to get dangerous', he thought grimly. His first instinct was to check on the store's staff—Chris. He turned toward him, ready to protect the inexperienced civilian—

Only to freeze mid-motion.

In Chris's hand was a scythe—a sleek, white shaft ending in a blade of pale, flickering flame. White fire. Pure and unnatural. It didn't radiate heat like normal fire… it felt wrong. Or rather, it felt like it burned something beyond the physical.

"..."

For a moment, Emlyn stood in stunned silence, completely thrown off by the unexpected development. That kid who was just managing a store... now held a weapon that looked like it could reap souls.

He quickly gathered himself, instincts kicking back in, but he couldn't deny the sensation crawling down his spine.

'That white flame… it's more dangerous than the hound.'

Trust or not, he subtly took a step back, placing a little more distance between himself and Chris—just in case.

"You won't deny this, right?"

I spoke calmly as I activated my stigma.

From my palm, the sacred flame surged forth, crawling along the white thread shaft before curving outward—forming an uneven, half-crescent blade. A scythe, crude but blazing with holy fire.

[The constellation 'Demon-like Judge of Fire' is rejoicing.]

[The flames of judgment respond to your will.]

I gave it a few practice swings. The flames flared with each motion, swaying but never losing their shape—controlled, obedient.

Satisfied that my improvised weapon held together, a smile crept across my face.

Still facing the dog, I asked without glancing at Emlyn,

"Do you know what that thing is?"

"Not sure… but most likely a Devil," Emlyn said grimly. "You still feel sluggish, right? That's the effect of Devil's Language."

"I understand."

The pressure weighing down on me wasn't just fear—it was supernatural. My breath hitched slightly as the reality sank in. This wasn't something I could face head-on, not like this. Not unprepared.

Still, thanks to Emlyn, I had a chance to hold my ground—at least for now.

"Can we escape?" I asked, grasping at any sliver of hope.

"Not sure," he admitted. His first attempt to restrain and flee had already failed. That alone said enough.

"Then I guess this is our best chance."

I raised my scythe, its white flame crackling with divine fervor, and pointed it directly at the creature.

At my signal, Emlyn moved.

His shadows surged once more, attempting to bind the beast, but just like before, the dog-like devil danced through each strike with unsettling grace.

Seizing the opening, I dashed forward, confident in my speed alone. I aimed to intercept the creature just as it landed, right after evading Emlyn's binding shadows.

"GROAA!" it howled again—and in the very next instant, that same heavy pressure returned. My body slowed, twice as much as before.

But I had anticipated this.

Instead of charging headlong, I leapt—vaulting high above its head. Speed wasn't the goal this time. What I wanted was positioning.

By going airborne, I would trap the Dog devil between myself and the wall.

Wall or floor, it made no difference. I would leave it nowhere to run.

Of course, the Devil Dog's danger premonition flared the moment I moved. But it wasn't fast enough—not this time. It didn't expect this.

I locked my eyes with it.

In that instant, I activated my Evil Eye at full force.

Crack—!

As if gravity itself had turned against it, the space around the Devil Dog warped violently. A crater formed beneath its feet, the ground buckling as if crushed by an invisible hammer. It wasn't a pulling force—it pressed, a force from above, slamming it downward with relentless weight.

The beast was driven deeper and deeper, not into the earth by gravity, but by judgment from above.

Then, in accordance with the law of gravity, I too began to fall—right above the Devil Dog.

Just as I raised the scythe, ready to bring down judgment, I noticed a flicker of red light dancing around the cracks in the road surrounding the beast.

My instincts screamed.

Without hesitation—and without caring about my shoes—I ignited a burst of flame beneath my feet. The sudden explosion of force launched me sideways in midair.

A second later, like a fountain erupting from the depths of hell, molten red lava exploded from beneath the Devil Dog, spewing upward and outward in a violent spray.

"Ggh!" I stifled a scream of pain. Despite my efforts to dodge midair, I wasn't fast enough. Part of my right calf had been scorched—almost half of it marked by molten lava. As the molten liquid splashed, I swiftly swung my leg to shake it off, but the burn left a painful, blackened stain.

Seeing the charred and blistered skin, I immediately controlled my thread, weaving a simple protective case around the wound to prevent further damage.

Meanwhile, I tended to myself.

As the molten lava rained down, Emlyn used the fiery torrent as cover, disappearing beneath its blazing cascade. Like a shadowy assassin, he sprang forward, his grown claws—known as the 'Claw of Corrosion'—gleaming with deadly intent.

It was the perfect moment for a sneak attack.

Yet, the Devil Dog's danger premonition flared once again. It darted away just in time, evading a fatal blow, but not without injury. Though Emlyn failed to decapitate the beast, his strike left a long, jagged scratch along the side of its belly.

Without hesitation, Emlyn followed up with a swift gesture, summoning shadows that surged forth, attempting to ensnare the wounded creature. But even injured, the Devil Dog was too swift and slipped free from the grasp of darkness.

The first skirmish ended with both sides reassessing the flow of battle. Both the Devil Dog and I bore minor injuries—nothing life-threatening, but enough to slow our movements. Emlyn, for now, remained unscathed.

The Devil Dog, instinctively sizing up its prey, noted the weaker one—me—was already wounded but wielded a more dangerous, unpredictable power. The other, stronger but yet to reveal his true strength, remained a mystery. Time was short, and none of us could afford to hesitate.

The Devil Dog glanced once more at the half-wounded prey before shifting its gaze back to the two of us, as if calculating whether continuing the confrontation was worth the risk.

Then, its Danger Premonition flared sharply — a sudden, fleeting lapse in attention exposed one of its targets: me, wielding the blazing scythe of judgment.

For a moment, time seemed to freeze. We all paused, reading each other's moves, weighing the risk and opportunity. Against a stronger opponent, sheer numbers could be the deciding factor — allowing the enemy to dictate the fight was the worst mistake one could make.

Of course, if the power gap was too wide, attacking blindly was foolish. But if the strength was somewhat balanced... then the tide could still be turned with the right move.

This time, I propelled myself forward with the blazing flames like a rocket shooting through the night.

"Grr—" The Devil Dog growled fiercely, attempting to slow me down with a desperate swipe, but it was already too late. I was too close.

Gripping my scythe tightly, I channeled every ounce of power the Stigma could muster in this brief moment. Even if the Devil Dog anticipated my attack, the scorching blaze and the sudden surge of force should throw it off balance.

The creature snarled and stumbled back, forced to retreat from its position by the sheer intensity of the assault.

Locking my gaze onto the target, I pressed the advantage, driving forward with unrelenting determination, pushing the Devil Dog back into the shadows where it belonged.

I unleashed a barrage of white flames along the path I predicted the Devil Dog would dodge to, attempting to turn its own Danger Premonition against it. But the premonition was sharper than I had anticipated.

The beast was scorched and wounded, but not fatally. And with me as the source of light, the shadows beneath the Devil Dog deepened and spread, becoming darker and more oppressive.

Emlyn struck again, trying to bind the creature with his shadows, but another sudden fountain of lava erupted around it, disrupting the capture.

This time, the Devil Dog made no hesitation—it darted away, disappearing into the darkness.

Behind Emlyn, wings unfurled. He launched himself into the air, swooping low to carry me away, gliding swiftly and silently from the scene.

"Kyaaa!" A scream echoed in my ears, immediately followed by a sharp headache. I forced myself to ignore the ridiculous situation and focused all my attention on the Devil Dog, bracing for the worst.

That's when something caught my eye—something shiny glinting on the corpse of the young woman. Without hesitation, I extended my thread and *Yoink Getto Dazze.