Becoming the Dark Lord

Luke crouched atop the tallest building in that ruined city, perched on its edge like a gargoyle surveying the chaos below. From this vantage point, he had a clear view of everything ahead: scattered torch-lit camps, enemy routes, his own chosen path weaving right through them. He was closing in on the fortress that housed the third mechanism.

But the streets below were crawling with danger. Stone knights on stone horses patrolled the roads, each of them carrying a horn. They moved relentlessly, methodically. Unlike humans, statues didn’t get tired. They didn’t stop to piss, eat, talk, or sleep. They just kept walking the same routes, repeating the same movements like clockwork. Forever.

Luke let out a sigh and stared down the streets, focusing as he felt the mana within his body surge. He activated his new skill: [Assassin’s Tracking].

For a moment, his vision shifted. Trails began to appear: subtle ripples of mana where feet had touched the ground. The footprints of the stone knights glowed faintly beneath him. He saw the broken twigs, crushed leaves, even the indentations of hooves in the damp earth. Every vibration, every disturbance in the environment became visible. From the pressure of a step alone, he could determine which direction it had come from and where it was headed.

It was all there at once. Too much at first. But he’d been practicing how to filter the data: silhouettes and mana ripples first, then footsteps, then the big picture. One deduction layered on top of another until the battlefield mapped itself in his mind.

Before, he had to spend hours watching just to memorize enemy routines. Now, he could read them instantly, understand their behavior, even predict their next move. Two knights on horseback passed beneath him, riding close together. As they split off at an intersection, each heading down a different path, Luke made his move.

He leapt.

His cloak flared open mid-air, letting him glide silently down. He kicked the first knight off his mount, twisting in the air and hurling his kukri.

[You have slain a Watcher Knight: Lvl 45]

Before the body even hit the ground, Luke dashed forward, caught it, and shoved it into his pocket dimension.

He downed the stone horse next, then sprinted down the street, Advance Stealth active He dove through a broken window, sprinted across the room, and hurled himself out another side of the house just as the second knight turned the corner. The kukri struck true, embedding itself in the knight’s skull.

[You have slain a Watcher Knight: Lvl 45]

Luke dashed down the alley, vaulted over a broken fence, and landed on the next street, shifting into mist mid-jump. The third knight was swallowed by darkness. Luke moved without hesitation.

[You have slain a Watcher Knight: Lvl 45]

The mist dissolved, and Luke materialized. He gathered stamina in his arm, took aim, and hurled his kukri with everything he had. His final target, the one marked by Assassin’s Mark, was visible even through the wall. As the knight turned the corner into that street, the last thing it saw was a blade flying straight at its face.

[You have slain a Watcher Knight: Lvl 45]

The knight crumpled from its horse, lifeless.

*Your class [Demonic Assassin] has reached Level 36! (+5 Per, +4 Str, +4 Agi, +3 Vit, +2 Int, +3 Free Points)*

That section of the city was now clear. Those four knights had been crucial. Each of them patrolling intersections that connected to other squads, forming a deadly grid. This was the only place where their paths overlapped, and now that it was cleared, Luke had carved out a safer passage to press forward on his journey.

***

Luke sat perched on a large boulder deep in the forest, sharpening his focus for the battle ahead. The problem with finishing this challenge was simple: doing so would immediately remove the barrier keeping the serpent at bay.

The moment he defeated the area boss, the Beast Lord would be free to come after him. Two back-to-back boss fights. No rest. No prep time.

“You’re doing it wrong,” Artemis muttered.

Luke clicked his tongue and tossed the flawed arrow aside.

“Why not just use one of the regular enchanted arrows from your quiver?” she asked.

“You wouldn’t get it. It’s personal,” Luke replied without looking up. “It has to be one I craft myself. Especially if I’m right about this insight I’ve been chasing... it might be the only shot I’ve got at killing that giant snake.”

He was using a dense, high-quality wood for the arrow’s shaft. Over the last few days, he’d done a lot of experimenting, testing things, learning, using his profession’s growing knowledge to dig deeper. He’d even started working with the Beast Lord’s blood. The vial he’d collected still bubbled faintly with energy. And then there was the broken fang, from which he’d extracted a toxin. Except it wasn’t poison. It was acid.

“You really ought to be focusing on the stone monster you still haven’t killed,” Artemis said.

“There’s a good chance that once I beat the boss, this place stops being a safe zone. If the serpent comes for me right after, I need to be ready.”

“Then get your ass off that rock and get back to practicing with your bow. Daily lessons aren’t over, student. Come on. Off with your clothes. That’s an order from your teacher.”

“You mean just my shirt, right?”

“Y-yeah. Of course. Just your shirt,” she muttered.

Luke smirked and pulled Angelica’s bow from his inventory. Holding it always brought memories back. He took a breath and looked out at the forest. Charlie stood a bit farther ahead, keeping watch with her usual vigilance. Since she couldn’t help him clear the path directly, she’d thrown herself into guarding every second he stopped to rest.

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Then, something in the air shifted. A foul smell drifted toward him, and the black liquid in the cauldron nearby began to bubble. A notification blinked in front of his vision.

**You have successfully prepared a potion!**

Luke rushed over. Thick black liquid boiled violently in the pot. He narrowed his eyes.

“Let’s see what came out of this mess,” he muttered, casting Identify.

[Beast’s Darkness Mixture (Rare)]: A fusion of potent healing potion, demonic blood, and the blood of a Jormungandr has created a volatile substance. The healing essence has been completely corrupted, resulting in a powerful acid. A dangerous mistake... or a weapon in disguise.

It was an evolution of his earlier concoction, the regular Darkness Mixture.

*Your profession [Botanist of Mother Freya] has reached Level 30! (+2 Strength, +2 Agility, +2 Endurance, +2 Vitality, +2 Perception, +2 Intelligence, +4 Free Points)*

[New Profession Skill Available!]

**[You have reached Level 26! Half-Demon (Rank F)] (+1 bonus point to all attributes, +1 free point)**

Luke let out a long sigh.

“I can’t believe I burned through nearly all my healing resources for this,” he muttered, staring at the bubbling liquid.

Still, it had worked. His profession had leveled up, and with it, his race level too. That had been the goal. He picked up a vial of the original Darkness Mixture and poured a few drops onto a strip of meat. It sizzled faintly, like hot water hitting raw flesh, then evaporated into steam. Next, he grabbed a metal ladle, scooped up some of the Beast’s version, and dripped it onto a second strip of meat. He leaned in.

“It’s sinking... it’s melting the damn thing.”

The acid didn’t just burn. It bored into the meat, dissolving it with ruthless intensity.

Luke exhaled, oddly satisfied. “At the very least, this’ll come in handy eventually.”

He stored the new potion away for an emergency. There was no way to craft another one, not without burning through rare healing ingredients again, and more importantly, it required Beast Lord blood. He had no more of that, and even if he could get some, he wasn’t about to waste another chance at making a proper healing potion just to gamble on another unstable acid brew.

Luke opened his system interface and selected the prompt to view new profession skill options. Five skills appeared.

The first one:

[Seed of Perception (Uncommon)]: The botanist channels mana into a seed and throws it into the environment, creating a perception field linked to the plant. While active, the seed transmits sensory data from its surroundings as if they were the user’s own. The more mana invested, the longer the duration.

It was good. Actually, it was excellent. Better than Spy Plant, in his opinion. With this, he could throw seeds across an area to expand his awareness far beyond what a single plant could offer. Though, he suspected there had to be a cap on how many he could maintain at once.

“It’s kind of like that perception arrow the rangers back at the Haven used,” he muttered, recalling how they’d used it to scout enemy movement.

The second option made him tilt his head.

[Tree Bark (Rare)]: Allows the botanist to transform portions of their skin into a hardened bark-like surface, offering increased protection from impacts and cuts without sacrificing mobility.

Now that had potential. He would’ve loved to test it on the spot.

“Could I punch stuff without worrying about shattering my hands?” he wondered aloud.

Then came the third:

[Thorn Mutation (Uncommon)]: The botanist can trigger thorn growth on friendly plants, enhancing their natural defenses or adapting them for offense.

Luke stared at it for a moment.

“Unless I’m trying to guard a base or start a farm, this one’s pretty much useless to me.”

The next one, though, caught his attention.

[Plant Mine (Rare)]: The botanist plants a modified seed into the soil, designed to react to movement. When triggered, it instantly germinates, releasing a previously cultivated effect, such as restraining, pushing, or damaging nearby targets.

Now that lined up with his assassin toolkit. He could see real value here if he wanted to set traps, slow enemies, or control space.

“More for defending ground than going on the offensive…” he murmured, already envisioning scenarios.

Could he toss it like a grenade and have it detonate on impact? He re-read the description and realized the wording implied it required preparation. Planted soil, not just a tossed seed. Still, useful.

Then he reached the final skill and stopped breathing for a second.

[Blood of Mother Freya (Rare)]: The botanist’s blood, blessed by Mother Freya, becomes a sacred fluid imbued with the raw essence of nature. It acts as a stable catalyst in plant-based concoctions, enhancing quality and consistency. When applied to living plants, it accelerates growth and healing. It also allows vegetation to flourish in barren or corrupted environments, restoring balance to nature. Prolonged use deepens the bond between the botanist and the plants they nurture.

(Warning: Choosing this skill will permanently alter your biology. Consider carefully.)

Luke stared at the skill again. It was clearly a valuable coin in the greater legacy of Mother Freya, one he had uncovered after investing in several skills that pulled him deeper into the path of the [Botanist of Mother Freya].

“It’s a passive skill with zero combat use, unlike the other four…” he muttered, still weighing the decision.

But that warning kept echoing in his head. Of the five options, this was the only one with no offensive application. Still, if his plan to defeat the Beast Lord had any chance of success, he’d need to master herbalism, alchemy, and by extension, botany. And this skill made his blood a living catalyst for potions and other concoctions.

“It’s not like I’m fully human anyway. Why should I care about my biology? If I want to win, I’ve got to grab any edge I can get.”

He tapped the skill.

[Are you sure you want to choose this skill?]

“Huh. That’s new…” he hesitated for a moment, then selected Yes.

[You have acquired the Profession Skill: Blood of Mother Freya]

A sharp, sudden pain stabbed through his chest. His breath caught. His heart was racing, slamming against his ribcage like it was trying to escape, and his blood felt like it had been replaced with molten iron. Fire surged through every vein, searing its way across his body.

Luke clenched his eyes shut, teeth grinding against the pain. Every nerve screamed. Then, as suddenly as it started, it stopped. His lungs burned. He gasped for air.

“What the hell just happened?” Artemis asked. “You do realize, from my perspective, you’re just staring blankly at nothing, right? I can’t see your system screen.”

“It’s nothing. Just… a weird side effect. I went through something similar when I acquired… the Dark Blood…” His voice trailed off, and a knot of uncertainty twisted in his gut.

What happens when you have two different types of blood inside you?

Before he could process the thought, another wave of agony tore through him. He nearly screamed, collapsing to his knees as a brutal notification appeared:

[Dark Blood is corrupting the Blood of Mother Freya…]

The pain was unlike anything before. It wasn’t just physical; it was like being unmade from the inside out. A thousand needles under the skin. His eyes, nose, mouth. Every inch of him felt like it was being devoured.

Then:

[Dark Blood has fused with the Blood of Mother Freya]

Silence.

And then a final message blinked into view.

[Evolving select skills…]