The Poet's System
Chapter 73: Lost

Chapter 73: Lost

The tears on Daylan’s face didn’t last long before he wiped them away and made his way to his father’s side. Tubes were plugged into his lungs, his throat, and his heart.

He took a deep breath and turned to the individuals standing beside his father. "Who are you guys, too?"

They both bowed their heads, and the fox girl spoke first. Her voice was a bit playful but steady. ’’My name is Foxy — the third member of the Infernal Four.’’

The moment she finished, the guy rushed to speak as well. His voice had a slight echo to it. ’’I am Pi — the second member.’’

Daylan’s expression shifted. "What are the numbers for?"

Artist rushed her words. "We don’t know for sure, but I think it’s both our rank in strength and the order we were created."

Daylan nodded. "One of you should take number one, so we can all give my father a proper barrier."

Foxy rushed her words. "No. Master Gerald isn’t completely dead. That’s why we had to make sure your mother didn’t leave with him."

"What do you mean?" Medora asked, sounding confused as she took Gerald’s body.

"He’s at the Nether Stage and has been there for years, making his chances of survival slim to none. But he’s still not dead." Pi’s echoey voice drew their full attention.

However, Daylan’s eyes sparkled the moment he remembered his father was at the Nether. The name that came to mind was Pry. If she had helped him return from the Nether once before, she could help now.

But one question remained: how was he going to get in contact with Pry? Even so, the act of trying wasn’t entirely a failure. If he managed to bring his father back alive, they might tilt the odds in their favor.

At that instant, he barely knew what to do or even what to expect, but he knew rushing things wasn’t the answer.

Daylan glanced at Pi and gave him a firm nod, his expression unreadable.

Foxy hurried her words and made a proposal. "Let us show you around, Master Daylan."

She quickly grabbed his hand and dragged him out of the room.

There were eight rooms upstairs. Three were stained with blood, and a few human remains lay scattered on the floor. It was said that Giselle believed demonic monsters had a right to live as well.

"Enemies are created when individuals misunderstand each other. The thirst for blood doesn’t make one a villain. If it did, then humans would be villains in the eyes of monsters as well." This was her entire principle for why demonic monsters needed to live.

Using the curse aspect and a few relics left behind by previous leaders, she managed to create the monsters she had.

One of the rooms was where she performed the ritual. A circle of blood was found, and the blood seemed so hot it burned everything it touched — metal, concrete, sand — even places doused with water hardened like metal.

Two of the rooms were filled with ancient relics said to boost strength regardless of one’s ability rank. But Giselle, however, touched none of them.

One of the rooms was empty, but the last one was the creepiest. Even from a distance, they could see energy radiating from it.

"That’s her, Lost. The first member."

Daylan turned to Foxy. "What’s wrong with her?"

"Nothing, I guess." She gestured toward both Daylan and Medora. "Do you want to see her?"

"Is that safe?"

"It’s safe for me..." she continued. "She was Master Gerald’s first ever creation, so she carries a lot of dark energy."

"So, are you all made of dark energy?"

"Yes. But Lost is literally a replica of the curse aspect, so wherever she goes, she radiates enough dark energy to kill any ordinary person who absorbs it. Pi has most of the dark energy after Lost, followed by me, and Artist has the least—too little to even recognize."

Daylan’s eyes narrowed slightly. Foxy’s words raised concerns he needed to address. "I want to see Lost."

"Are you sure about this, Day?"

Daylan gave Medora a firm nod. Without hesitation, he began approaching the door.

The closer he got, the more uneasy he felt—the orb embedded in his chest seemed to pulse with excitement at the dark energy ahead.

Daylan cared little for how his orb felt as he yanked the door open. The moment he stepped inside, the room was completely dark—not the darkness of night, but a thick, smoky blackness that clung to the air.

To see through it, he needed to activate Dark Spiral. Wasting no time, he did—and what followed was a ticklish sensation that ran from his scalp to his toes. It was intense enough to draw a scream, powerful enough to make a man tremble from pleasure.

His eyes widened, completely forgetting why he was in the room in the first place. Instinctively, he ripped his shirt off—then felt a touch on his chest, followed by a wave of deep relief.

"The darkness within you is glowing gold now." Her voice was far more echoey than Pi’s, making it hard to follow what she was saying.

Daylan tilted his head toward his chest, only to find the orb completely gone—no veins, nothing. It had vanished. But the moment he deactivated his ability, it reappeared, glowing gold like a neon light in the dark.

He began to feel a little shy. Reactivating Dark Spiral, he quickly threw his shirt back on. That’s when he got a better look at Lost.

Her long, silver-grey hair fell over her body, but even the strands were marked with enchanted stickers. From her elbows to her fingertips, her arms were formed entirely of darkness, wrapped in glowing bandages inscribed with enchantments.

She dragged a sword behind her, its blade also covered in the same stickers. Though naked, her private parts were wrapped in the same enchanted bandages, preserving a fragile sense of modesty.

Before Daylan could even react to her appearance, he was already pulled into a tight hug. "I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help you." Her voice remained difficult to follow, distant and echoing.

Daylan gently pulled her out of the hug and sat her down on the bed. He struggled to ignore her naked body, but the childish expression on Lost’s face—and the way she kept fidgeting with her fingers—left him little room to question her appearance. It felt like dealing with a child.

He began talking with her, the undeniable loneliness in her eyes speaking volumes. The others rarely visited her, and aside from Gerald, no one had ever spoken to her.

However, tending to her childish self didn’t make Daylan forget why he was there. He needed to know if it was true that Lost was almost a replica of the curse aspect.

There wasn’t much he could grasp yet, but the fact that his orb had fully grown—achieving in minutes what had taken years, maybe decades—gave him more hope than nothing.

Even so, it was clear the enchanted stickers on her were meant to restrain her abilities, meaning she was capable of far more than what she was currently showing.

The discovery was enough for Daylan—and good news at that. Though not completely certain, he believed his father had left the Infernal Four to protect him for a reason.

If they couldn’t match the full power of the curse aspect, then at least they possessed half or a third of it.

Daylan spent the rest of the day talking with Lost, struggling to leave her alone in that solitude. Meanwhile, downstairs, Medora trained with Foxy, their strikes echoing through the mansion.

Daylan ended up sleeping beside Lost after she asked him to stay with her before she fell asleep. He drifted off too, but just before surrendering to sleep, he murmured quietly to himself, repeatedly asking the Ascendant of Pry to at least speak to him.

Not long into his sleep, his prayers were answered.

"Hey, Daylan. If you want me, all you have to do is call my name, you know?" Pry’s soft, warm voice echoed gently in Daylan’s mind once more.

Daylan wasn’t fully asleep—probably in REM (rapid eye movement sleep). He could think, reason, and decide, even though his body was still resting.

"I was expecting you to be killed by your mother so we could strike another deal," Pry added.

You knew I would die? — Daylan thought.

"Yes, but you never asked for my help. You were no match for the forces behind your mother. Even I wasn’t strong enough—there wasn’t much I could have done."

And you didn’t tell me? — his inner voice seethed with frustration.

"You might have won. Who am I to stop you?"

Forget about that... I want you to help my father.

"Help your father, huh?... I’m sorry, I can’t do that."

What? But you help me.

"Yes, because I have a contract with you. But in your father’s case, it’s different. He’s better off dead."

Daylan said nothing, letting the words sink in as a growing sense of uselessness toward Pry settled over him.

It didn’t take long before Pry spoke again. "But I know who can."

Who?!

"Someone I’m certain you would want to meet."

Who’s that?

"No. We’ll talk again after you return to the monastery. Don’t call me until I call you."

What?

That was that. Daylan didn’t hear a single word from Pry all through the night.