Becoming the Dark Lord

An arrow sliced through the air.

From floor, something massive and grotesque burst upward—a giant centipede, half-buried, half-exposed, mandibles gnashing like steel jaws, its segmented body writhing with sickening speed.

Luke sprinted between falling arrows, kukris drawn. The centipede’s maw opened wide, aiming to bite—

“Get back!” a mage shouted.

Luke rolled sideways just as a gray sphere whistled through the air and exploded on the centipede’s back. A dense, smoky blast tore open the creature’s armored shell.

Luke didn’t hesitate. He hurled his kukris—they spun, glinting in the light before striking the soft, vulnerable underbelly.

The creature shrieked. It writhed, buckled—then collapsed.

Dead.

Luke was already moving.

The clearing in the Wild Zone had become a battlefield.

Cecilia stood firm, bow drawn, arrow glowing violet with crackling energy. She loosed it—it zipped through the air like lightning, skewering another centipede mid-surge.

Jonathan dashed in behind it, twin blades flashing. He sliced through the creature’s legs with precision, leaving it screaming in the dirt.

At the center of it all, the largest centipede released a cloud of green gas—

“Don’t breathe it in!” someone yelled.

Everyone held their breath. One mage raised a staff and shot a stream of water, cutting through the toxic mist. Another conjured a barrier just as the massive centipede lunged.

The creature slammed into the shield—it cracked like glass—then shattered completely.

Two smaller centipedes darted toward the exposed mages.

That’s when the ground thundered.

A figure dropped from above, sword in hand, armor gleaming.

Princess Charlie.

She spun mid-air, her blade sweeping in a deadly arc—both centipedes were cleaved apart before they could touch the casters.

She didn’t pause.

Charlie charged the largest one, activating her Iron Fists, slamming a glowing punch into its mandibles and sending it reeling.

Luke and Allison joined in. Arrows rained from above. Jonathan tore into the legs. Anna loosed a spell-fletched arrow that split mid-flight and struck both eyes of the beast.

From underground, more centipedes erupted.

Charlie surged forward again—a storm in steel and bone.

*The [Death Knight] class of Princess Charlie has reached Level 11! (Class Bonus Points Acquired)*

The giant centipede slithered like a serpent, lunging toward the frontline. It slammed into Charlie—she staggered, but recovered instantly.

Luke’s kukris flew, slicing through its carapace.

Charlie countered with an uppercut, then spun, driving her sword deep into its side.

Allison appeared behind the beast, slashing across its exposed flank. Flesh and armor peeled apart.

Luke dropped from a tree, driving both heels into the creature’s back—it crashed to the ground, pinned.

He landed on top of its head—and then the rage took over.

His kukris danced, carving the centipede’s face with ruthless precision.

Blood sprayed. Chitin cracked.

[You have slain a Giant Centipede: Lvl 16]

*Your class [Demonic Assassin] has reached Level 14! (Class Bonus Points Acquired)*

[An item has been added to your inventory]

The rest of the swarm was cleaned up one by one. Charlie executed the final few with clean, efficient strikes.

And then—

Silence.

The clearing grew still.

The forest exhaled.

“Everyone alive?” Jonathan called, panting.

“My arm! That damn fang nearly tore it off!” Johnny shouted, trying to pry the broken centipede spike from his bicep.

Two weeks had passed since the orc invasion. Now, Luke and Allison were official members of Jonathan’s squad—exploring the Wild Zone, mapping the unknown, surviving one day at a time.

“We should head back,” Anna said, glancing at the sky, which had begun to darken. “Unless you all want to spend another night hiding in mud and moss.”

No one argued.

From midnight to six a.m., the Wild Zone turned into a death trap.

And the ruined city? Even worse.

Luke adjusted the worn cloak on his shoulders and noticed a tear running across the back. He’d gotten it from a mission orb not long ago.

Sighing, he opened his system and checked the most recent loot drop:

[Centipede Boots (Uncommon)]

Description: Sturdy leather boots crafted from the hide of a Giant Centipede.

Bonus: +10 Agility

“Well, they’re better than the old shoes,” Luke muttered.

He clicked [Equip]. The boots materialized on his feet, replacing the scuffed adventurer set he still wore. A solid upgrade.

Princess Charlie stepped up beside him—silent as always.

Luke brought her on scouting runs now and then.

The others assumed she was just shy. Or maybe socially awkward.

Nobody questioned her quiet presence anymore. She kept her helmet on, stood still like a sentry, and never spoke.

“Take anything useful,” Jonathan called out. “Bartholomew’s crafters are asking for monster parts. They’ve been making shields from whatever they can salvage.”

Luke noticed some of the team weren’t even using bags—just storing materials directly into their storage items.

Anna carried the four potions he and Allison had brought along.

Glass flasks didn’t survive well in ordinary packs.

“I really want a storage item,” Allison muttered.

Cecilia snorted and signed something with her hands.

“She says you’ll get one eventually,” Anna translated. “Took her six months to get hers.”

Luke raised a brow. “And after that, never again? You’ve been here what—two, three years?”

Anna shrugged.

“The system seems to give what it thinks you need. It almost never gives out duplicates. Especially storage items. They’re rare.”

The author’s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

The group kept searching the area.

Up ahead, atop a hill, stood a crumbling factory—its steel bones twisted by time and overgrowth.

“That one’s off-limits,” Johnny said. “Heard a Midnight Warden rests inside.”

Everyone turned to look.

The building felt wrong even from a distance.

“Is there somewhere safer nearby?” Allison asked.

Luke and Allison exchanged a glance.

Their theory—that the Wardens’ hideouts might also house the mechanisms—wasn’t just theirs anymore.

Others had begun to suspect it, too.

But no one said it out loud.

And no one was stupid enough to go inside one of those places.

Not while the Midnight Warden was still there.

The only real option would be waiting until they left to patrol—

Which meant heading into the ruins while the Wardens were active.

And once they spotted you?

It was over.

“There are still plenty of places to search before we start flirting with suicide,” Jonathan said, his voice firm. “Mechanism or not, that factory stays off the list for now.”

The group was deep in the Wild Zone, charting as much territory around the Safe Zone as they could.

Their focus?

The Midnight Warden dens.

If they could understand the structure, maybe they could find a pattern—

And if they found a pattern, they might find the mechanisms.

“Reaching a Warden den at night is already suicidal,” one of the mages muttered. “But entering one? That’s just insanity.”

“We could get there before sundown,” Allison suggested. “Camp nearby. Wait until the Warden leaves to patrol, then slip in.”

The mage looked at her like she’d just offered to wrestle a dragon.

“You realize how dangerous that is, right?”

Luke answered flatly, “It’s still better than rotting in this tutorial.”

Both mages sighed in unison—like the weight of those words hit something they both knew too well.

Jonathan’s voice cut in, quiet.

“I overheard some of Bartholomew’s men talking... They’re mapping the Forest of Death.”

That name hung in the air like a curse.

“Orc territory,” he added. “They think there’s a good chance a mechanism is hidden out there.”

Luke looked toward the distant silhouette of the castle, faint through the mist.

Massive. Eternal.

“What about the castle itself?” he asked. “Why don’t we make an expedition? Get close. Just to observe.”

The silence hit like a hammer.

Every head turned.

Johnny let out a dry, bitter laugh.

“Look at my arm, kid.”

He raised it. The flesh was still bandaged and swollen.

“That was from a damn centipede. And we’re not even halfway through the Wild Zone. Now imagine I break a leg out there. Or two of us go down. You really think it’s worth risking everything just to look at the castle?”

He shook his head.

“You won’t even see the real thing. Just the damn barrier illusion.”

Luke stayed quiet.

He’d learned something important recently—

The castle on the horizon wasn’t real. Or at least, not as it appeared. The glowing bastion they all stared at from afar was likely just a mirage, a projection generated by the system’s barrier.

And in the end...

The only way forward was through the mechanisms.

There was no bypassing it.

They continued walking in silence, moving back through mist-covered ruins.

Jonathan finally spoke again.

“That’s why Bartholomew hoards the Event Chests in the Safe Zone. He controls the healing potions.”

He looked back at them, voice grave.

“With those, his soldiers can keep going even when injured. And on top of that... he’s got almost every healer in the tutorial under his command.”

The group broke into a jog.

Shadows shifted through the alleyways around them—no time to stop.

Johnny vaulted over a collapsed wall. The rest followed, climbing onto a rooftop for better visibility.

Luke asked the question hanging in the back of everyone’s mind.

“Why’s Thiara the only healer in the Haven?”

Anna was the one to answer.

“She’s the only one who didn’t join Bartholomew’s faction.” Her voice softened. “There was Greg too… but he died during last year’s invasion.”

Johnny exhaled through his nose.

“Healers don’t level on their own,” he said. “But in a strong group, they gain XP through support. They climb fast.”

He gave a half-smile—tired. Bitter.

“That’s why they all flock to Bartholomew. But that’s just the start of the benefits.”

Jonathan added, “Most of them chose the easy life in Bastion. Can’t blame them.”

His eyes drifted toward the horizon—toward the great castle none of them could touch.

His gaze was distant. Heavy.

“They just want to survive. Like the rest of us.”

“Think about it,” Jonathan muttered. “A roof, steady meals, safety. You have a kid in this place? He grows up with comfort. Security. All you have to do… is swear loyalty as a healer to Bartholomew’s faction.”

They reached the rooftop.

The wind cut through the silence like a blade of ice.

Out in the distance, just beyond the forest edge, a pack of velociraptors darted across the terrain—fast, predatory, dangerously coordinated.

Luke crouched low. A gesture triggered his interface.

Time to allocate points.

He opened Charlie’s status screen. She’d hit level 11 recently. He’d already picked her level 10 skill:

[Whirlwind Strike (Uncommon)]: Spin your weapon with devastating force and precision, unleashing a storm of steel that strikes all nearby enemies. You become the eye of the storm—lethal and unstoppable.

He checked her stat page. Two unspent points.

Stats (Princess Charlie):

Strength: 40 -> 41

Agility: 26

Endurance: 31

Vitality: 38 -> 39

Perception: 17

Intelligence: 17

Free Points: 2 -> 0

One into Strength.

One into Vitality.

Perfect.

Now it was his turn.

The system interface shimmered open before him. Three points unspent.

Stats (Luke):

Strength: 60

Agility: 68 (78 with gear)

Endurance: 28 -> 29

Vitality: 66 -> 67

Perception: 64

Intelligence: 44 -> 45

Free Points: 3 -> 0

Done.

He closed the menu just as the last of the raptors vanished into the treeline.

The world was quiet again. Still.

Level 15…

He wondered what his class would offer then. Another spell? Something else entirely?

His eyes drifted toward the horizon.

The ruined city sprawled ahead, blanketed by vines and mist. But one structure stood out—subtle, yet unmistakable.

A bell tower.

Partially devoured by ivy. Cracked stone. Crumbling walls.

A church.

Luke narrowed his eyes. He’d been tracking these places for weeks now. Every church he found, he checked. Not for prayer. Not for sanctuary.

For this.

He opened his inventory.

A soft pulse blinked at the corner of his screen—almost like it was breathing.

*Special Mission Orb: Find the Treasure*

Objective: Locate the treasure of Samael the Inventor

Location: Church

Reward: Artemis Invention]

Another day, he told himself. I’ll check that church another day.

He closed the menu. Took a breath.

Then came the other notification.

The one that never left.

*Assassination Contract (Exclusive)*

Objective: Assassinate the Lord Orc.

The Lord Orc hides deep within the forest, near the mountains, in the final orc settlement at the base of the ridge. He spends his days enthroned in savage grandeur, commanding raids against tutorial participants.

Your elimination of a Captain Orc has marked you as a real threat to his dominion.

Requirements:

- You must go alone.

- Bringing allies will cause the Lord Orc to relocate.

Reward: (???)

Luke’s jaw tensed.

Has anyone else gotten this mission before?

Over the past two weeks, he’d been subtle—quietly asking around. Listening for stories. Rumors. Mentions of anything like it.

Nothing.

No contracts. No system messages. Not even a whisper.

It felt like this had been written… just for him.

That’s why he’d told no one.

This wasn’t something he could afford to share.

He looked again toward the mountains.

The forest stretched before him like a sea of shadow. Thick. Alive. Waiting.

Somewhere out there… the Orc Lord sat on his throne, untouchable.

And maybe—just maybe—someone had finally found him.

He didn’t know if he’d bring Charlie.

But deep down, he already knew the answer.

This wasn’t her fight.

This wasn’t Allison’s either.

This battle… was his.

And his alone.