Becoming the Dark Lord

Before him, a massive monster roared under the trembling light of distant flames. A giant lion with leathery bat wings, a metallic scorpion tail, and eyes like thunderclouds ready to strike.

[Lightning Manticore, Beast Captain: Lvl 27]

The Manticore moved slowly. Each step made the ground tremble. Its scorpion tail twitched like a coiled whip, but that wasn’t what unsettled Luke. What truly shook him was that this was the third Captain he’d seen that night.

A roar from afar. A blast. Fire. The Flame Tyrannosaurus still rampaged through the streets, and on a distant rooftop, the giant gorilla bellowed, hurling debris down at the defenders of the Refuge.

Three Captains. Three monsters from the Beast Lord’s army. In a normal invasion, maybe one would appear—and even that was rare.

Why is this happening?

This wasn’t just an invasion. It was something else entirely.

The beast roared again. Yellow sparks exploded around it, leaping through the trees and igniting the foliage. Flame slithered like serpents through the underbrush, fed by raw electricity. Luke’s instincts screamed at him to run. Facing a monster like that alone? Not a chance. He needed backup. He needed the others from the Haven.

But there was a problem. That thing wouldn’t let him escape. Turning his back now would be the same as signing his own death warrant.

And yet... he didn’t flinch.

He couldn’t back down. Not now. If he turned and ran, every drop of blood spilled, every risk taken, all of it would have meant nothing.

So he tightened his grip on the kukris—and charged.

So he tightened his grip on the kukris and charged. A blur of movement. Basic Dark Dash. He appeared at the beast’s flank, ready to slash, but electricity was already arcing through the air. Lightning danced across the Manticore’s body, snapping like live wires. Luke slashed with his kukris, trying to cut through the field of energy, but the tail lashed out, sharp, metallic, fast. It aimed straight for his skull. He dove to the side just in time.

The tree exploded. Shards tore through the air like shrapnel from a grenade. Jagged splinters sliced past him. Charred leaves rained down from above. Luke took the hit, hot fragments ripping into his skin. He clenched his teeth, instinctively shutting his eyes as the explosion’s flash seared across his vision.

That tail didn’t carry venom. It was a lightning rod. If it touched him, he’d be fried from the inside out.

Charlie charged without hesitation. Sword in hand, she reached the Manticore and struck. The monster roared and spun—its tail whipping out again. Charlie blocked each blow, arms trembling under the impact, but never faltering.

Luke circled, eyes sharp, hunting for an opening. The Manticore turned toward him, jaws snapping open. He moved to flank—but a paw caught him clean in the ribs.

The force launched him through the trees, crashing through branches. Momentum threatened to slam him into the ground, but he twisted midair, dug his heels in, and stabbed a kukri into the soil to anchor himself.

Dirt sprayed. His body skidded, then stopped. Panting, he steadied his stance and spat blood onto the forest floor.

”I need to act. Think. Fast.” Allison was out there alone with a fire-breathing dinosaur. Jonathan, Paul, Angelica, each locked in their own hell. If he stalled too long, it all fell apart.

Pattern. Blind spot. Interval. He had to find it. The Manticore charged. Massive. Devouring the forest. Luke launched forward. Another dash. Another blur. He slashed from the side, but the tail met him in the air.

‘ZAAAAP’

Pain exploded through him. He hit the ground, buzzing with static.

This bastard has more electricity than my whole neighborhood.

The tail pulsed with light. The Manticore roared. Charged again. Luke didn’t back down. He punched forward.

Either I give Charlie an opening, or I make my own.

Kukris flew from his hands, split into copies midair, and he activated magnetic return.

The blades returned like screaming meteors.

He moved.

[Demonic Blade Dance]

The kukris spun around him, carving the beast’s hide. It growled, mouth sparking, ready to bite. Then the sound of an impact shook the forest. Charlie opened with a brutal punch, landing a clean hit to the chin. Without pause, she spun her sword in a deadly arc.

[Whirlwind Strike]

She became a steel hurricane, blades carving through the air in vicious spirals, trying to make space. Luke stepped back, repositioning himself, ready to strike the final blow, but the tail came again, fast as lightning.

Charlie gathered all her strength.

[Heavy Strike]

She intercepted the strike with overwhelming force, halting the momentum of the tail mid-swing. But the creature hadn’t aimed to pierce — it had aimed to unleash.

The tail plunged into the earth. In the next instant, raw energy pulsed underground, alive and searching. Lightning surged beneath their feet.

The forest floor detonated in a violent eruption. Chunks of stone and soil blasted skyward. Smoke twisted through the air, mingling with the smell of scorched roots and ozone. For a heartbeat, the world became chaos — a vortex of flying debris and flickering electric arcs.

Luke launched upward, leaping from branch to branch like a ghost of the forest, climbing with wild, desperate agility. His breath was ragged, blood streamed from open wounds, but his mind remained sharp—razor sharp.

If I keep this up, I’m dead.

Each movement stretched his muscles to the brink, every branch he grabbed sent fresh fire lancing through his injuries. Flesh tore. Bones ached. Still, he climbed.

Think, damn it! THINK!

His pursuer wasn’t just powerful. It was smart. Not human-smart—something worse. A primal, monstrous intelligence. The manticore wasn’t just some lumbering beast. It moved with purpose. With intent.

It was a killer.

It has everything—strength, range, fucking lightning. What kind of monster even is this?!

The crack of shattered branches echoed below, followed by the heavy thud of a tree trunk snapping under pressure. The thing was close. Too close. Luke’s mind raced. He started replaying every moment. Every movement. Every strike. Not just fear—but analysis. Watching the predator’s rhythm. The pattern. Beneath the fury, there was a method.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

It’s not just attacking blindly. There’s a purpose to every lunge...

Instinct. Deep-rooted, predatory behavior.

Wolf. Cat. Killer.

They all aimed for the same thing—the neck. Fast kills. Precision. It wasn’t rage. It was design. He clenched his jaw.

If I can use that…

And now Luke was reading the manticore’s.

Every time it attacked, the tail followed. It wasn’t random—it was a sequence. Lunge. Strike. Tail. If the tail missed, it hit the ground and exploded everything nearby. It wasn’t just brute force. It was a pattern. A trigger.

Below, the manticore roared like a living storm. Luke narrowed his eyes.

Does it fly? It has wings, but it’s staying grounded.

The creature charged forward, tearing through trees like matchsticks, sparks erupting with each impact. Charlie dashed in without hesitation, sword in hand, Iron Fists blazing. She knocked the tail aside, dodged the beast’s snapping fangs, dancing through danger.

Then Luke dropped from the sky, spotting an opening mid-fall. His kukris tore across the monster’s back in a crimson trail of blood and lightning. The creature howled, its aura flaring into a volatile surge.

Explosion.

Luke leapt again, but the metallic tail whipped up like a living spear—just as the rhythm predicted. Mid-air, he hurled the kukris, spun into a spiraling blur. The tail struck a nearby tree. Lightning exploded. The blast flung him like a ragdoll, his body twisting violently before crashing into the earth.

He had read the pattern, but that didn’t mean he could stop it.

The manticore sprinted with wings spread wide, then leapt into the air, gliding with monstrous grace. Luke rose with effort, breathing ragged. The kukris snapped back into his hands with a sharp metallic hum just as Charlie landed beside him.

The tail came again—zigzagging toward them, fast, deadly, crackling with living energy. They dodged on instinct. Charlie deflected; Luke slashed. But the pressure was mounting.

Then the manticore lunged. Its massive body slammed into Luke, claws burying into his chest as he was dragged back across the ruined ground. Gritting his teeth, he fought with raw strength, trying to drive a kukri into the creature’s skull—but the jaws were already closing.

He wedged the blade between its teeth, screamed, and held on with everything he had.

It felt like his bones might shatter, but they didn’t. The lion’s head slammed into a wall, crushing him against the stone. The pressure cracked the world around him. But he broke free from the bite and smashed a fist into the creature’s snout, blood spraying. Then another punch, harder.

Without hesitation, he grabbed the kukris and activated:

[Demonic Blade Dance: Dancing Mimic]

He spun like a raging storm, slashing from every angle. A mimic-shadow appeared behind him, echoing each strike with perfect precision. The manticore was pushed back, roaring in frustration.

Charlie didn’t wait.

Spectral Charge. Twin Iron Fists.

Both collided with the monster’s side. The creature let out a pained grunt, and Luke saw it.

There.

In that movement. In the curve of the wings, there was a flaw. A blind spot only someone thinking like an assassin would notice. The manticore’s wings, opened by defensive instinct, covered its flanks but limited its peripheral vision. It was a natural detail. The jaws. The claws. The tail. All attacks came from the front. That’s how predators act. They go all-in, striking forward. To kill. And to avoid being surprised.

But the sides. The back. That was the weak spot. The anatomical error. The space not meant to receive, only to chase.

Luke knew that now. And he would use it.

Charlie pulled her sword from the inventory and charged. Luke ran wide around the manticore, drawing its focus. The creature swiped in every direction, desperately trying to hit something. Charlie dodged, parried, and kept pushing forward, opening space.

Luke struck from behind, cutting deep and fast. The tail came for him again. He jumped, activated [Basic Dark Dash], and blurred away, narrowly avoiding the blast that followed.

Smoke, dust, dirt exploded around him. But Luke had already moved. And before the cloud even cleared, he was running again. Charlie too. They came out of the smoke like ghosts. ℯℯ𝑙.

The monster roared. Yellow sparks raced across its skin. Luke kept circling, gliding around the manticore like a living shadow. He moved with calculated precision, dancing at the edge of death.

The kukris flew in a clean rhythm. Each step, a throw. Each turn, a return. Now he knew how she moved. Where it was dangerous. Where it was lethal.

Sometimes, the manticore’s skin pulsed with electricity. A deadly barrier that made touching it suicide. But with the kukris, Luke didn’t need contact. They spun like demon boomerangs and came back craving blood.

He launched them with skill, aiming for flanks, back, blind spots. When the sparks faded, he charged in and cut deeper.

The manticore howled, a mix of agony and rage, and then something shifted.

As Charlie rushed in, trying to press the advantage, the creature let out a thunderous roar and spread its wings wide. It surged forward like a rampaging bull, its massive head smashing through everything in its path until it slammed into her. But instead of flinging her aside, it clamped its jaws around her and hurled her violently against a tree.

Luke tried to run to her aid, but the manticore’s tail lashed toward him, forcing him back. In that moment, the beast turned and fled, still holding Charlie in its mouth.

The monster understood the risk of continuing the fight in that space. Fleeing with her clutched in its jaws was the safer choice.

Luke sprinted after them, but the manticore was too fast. With every bound, it widened the gap until it vanished into the trees.

Panic surged through him. A cold realization clawed at his thoughts: Charlie was getting too far. The further she got, the harder it became to recall her soul. And if she died out there, alone, too far from him… she might never return. Her soul would be lost.

“Shit!” he shouted, dashing through the forest at full speed.

Suddenly, the trees gave way to a ruined street. He spotted them—the manticore leaping ahead, Charlie still clenched in its maw.

The beast roared as she pummeled its snout with Iron Fist after Iron Fist, blow after blow. The creature didn’t fly—it only glided—but when one of her punches landed hard, it howled and crashed into a building, bringing the entire structure down in a cloud of debris.

Luke ran with everything he had, watching them vanish beneath the rubble. Charlie’s interface had turned gray. She was too far. He couldn’t see her health. He had no idea how much HP she had left.

Without hesitation, he climbed the broken remains of the structure and dove through a gap in the debris. Below, he found the manticore lying among the ruins, blood streaking its face after the relentless blows. But Charlie… she was nowhere in sight.

His eyes scanned the chaos desperately, locking onto a collapsed section buried under broken beams and earth. She had to be there. Without thinking, he threw himself toward the wreckage.

It was what looked like an old warehouse. The air stank of mold, and stacks of cut logs filled the space, remnants of an old Haven supply depot. The manticore began to stir, groaning as it pushed itself up, blood oozing from its jaw.

Charlie was buried somewhere in that ruin, too far for her soul to respond. Her interface remained gray. Luke’s chest tightened. He needed to get to her. Fast.

But then he heard it—the sharp crack of the manticore’s tail hitting the ground.

It wasn’t going to let him through.

The creature was bleeding, covered in wounds. As Luke moved to help Charlie, he realized something chilling. They were locked inside the warehouse with the beast. There was no escape.

“Shit…”

The manticore exhaled heavily. Sparks began to dance along its body, and its tail lashed the air like a whip ready to strike.

It howled in rage and charged like a maddened bull, smashing through columns and demolishing everything in its path. The floor trembled beneath its weight. The entire warehouse seemed on the verge of collapse.

Luke dodged as best he could, but the tail caught him in the ribs. His body crashed against a pile of stones. Before he could recover, the manticore was already on top of him. Its jaws clamped down on his chestplate, crushing the armor. The air exploded from his lungs. The world spun.

In panic, he stabbed the beast’s face over and over again. The manticore roared and flung him aside. He slammed into a support column, his back ablaze with pain. But he stood.

No time.

The tail was coming again. Fast. Deadly. Unstoppable.

He braced for impact.

Then—

The debris shifted. Spectral chains lashed out, wrapping around the manticore’s tail. Charlie rose from the wreckage, dragging the tail with all her strength. The hold bought Luke a single, precious second.

The manticore roared and thrashed, struggling to break free. Luke knew he had to use the chance. He sprinted forward, kukris in hand. Charlie still held the tail, bones cracking under the strain. The beast shrieked, desperate to escape.

Luke shot forward like an arrow. The distance vanished. He vaulted over stacked logs, using each as a springboard. He was ready to strike.

But something shifted. The creature didn’t move. Didn’t dodge. Didn’t strike. It simply stopped. Its eyes shimmered, flickering, chaotic, crackling with static.

It wasn’t fear. It wasn’t pain. It was something else.

Luke’s instincts screamed. Something was wrong.

The manticore opened its mouth.

Light.

Not sparks. Not lightning.

A sphere. A glowing orb of pure energy, unstable, pulsing like a heart about to detonate.

“No…!”

Luke tried to halt mid-air. Too late.

The world vanished.

The explosion swallowed the entire warehouse. Logs. Concrete. Glass. Steel beams. All of it obliterated in a flood of light and thunder.

The shockwave ripped through Luke, hurling his body with punishing force. Electric flames licked the rafters as the structure collapsed around him.

Silence.

…

Nothing moved.