Becoming the Dark Lord

When Luke hit level fifty in his class, the system forced him to evolve it. Because of that, he’d never chosen his final skill from level forty-five, and now his new class had corrupted that choice.

[Warning: Your Demonic Predator class has corrupted your new skill choice!]

The list of available options was right there in front of him, until they suddenly shifted. A heartbeat later, the screen slammed shut. He frowned, only for it to flash back open with another notification.

[The Demonic Predator class is evolving some of your existing skills…]

Another ping.

[Skills have evolved!]

Two of his abilities had changed, reshaped to fit the nature of the Demonic Predator, just like some of his assassin skills had transformed when he first became a Demonic Assassin.

The first one to evolve, of all things, was his very first skill. The oldest one he had.

[Basic Blade Handling (Common)] -> [Advanced Blade Handling (Uncommon)]

Even though it wasn’t something he actively triggered like his other abilities, it was the one he had relied on the most. It defined his fighting style as an assassin, his mastery of twin kukris. It was the quiet skill, the constant companion.

Before the upgrade, it had been simple:

[Basic Blade Handling (Common)]: The blade of an assassin must be fast, lethal, and precise. Grants basic proficiency with daggers, short swords, and other light one-handed weapons, enabling more accurate and efficient strikes.

That’s where it had all started. Now, it had become something sharper.

[Advanced Blade Handling (Uncommon)]: Your blade is now faster, deadlier, more precise. You’ve refined your proficiency with daggers, short swords, and other light one-handed weapons, allowing for even quicker, more accurate, and lethal strikes. Your movements flow seamlessly, each attack executed with efficiency and deadly intent, increasing your ability to eliminate enemies with surgical precision.

Luke drew both kukris from his inventory and felt their weight settle into his hands. He could sense everything in them, the balance of the blade, the heft of the grip, even the way the air resisted the edge. He knew exactly how to make every part work in his favor. Tossing one into the air, he caught it with his eyes closed. Then he moved, slashing at empty space, the hiss of steel cutting wind filling the air. He spun, leapt, stabbed. The weapons moved with him, fused to his reflexes, extensions of his body.

Then he saw the next skill that had evolved.

[Assassin’s Mark (Rare)] -> [Predator’s Mark (Rare)]

“Predator’s Mark…” he muttered under his breath before reading the description.

[Predator’s Mark (Rare)]: When you mark your prey, your focus locks onto them with unyielding precision. No matter where they run, as long as they remain within your hunting grounds, you will find them. If they slip beyond your perception and they’re bleeding, you can track them more easily, guided by instinct alone. All damage dealt to a marked target is increased, and you gain bonus experience for killing a marked enemy, especially if they are above your class level. Your predatory mark remains until the prey is eliminated or the effect expires.

A skill evolution with far more potential than it first appeared. Not just for tracking prey, but for reaping rewards. If he’d had this back when he killed the Fallen Stone Angel, and marked it first, the bonus experience might have pushed him up several more levels. The ability practically encouraged him to act like a true predator, always hunting, always seeking stronger prey, because the payoff would be even greater.

The evolutions were done. Just those two, but each one fit perfectly with the mindset of a predator. His combat style had sharpened, his territorial tracking refined. None of it felt random. These weren’t just upgrades; they were deliberate tools, crafted to make him a Demonic Predator.

But it still wasn’t over. His pending skill choice remained, and when he read through the list, a slow smile tugged at his lips.

“Guess picking this class wasn’t such a bad idea after all,” he murmured.

The first option appeared:

[Basic Polearm Handling (Common)]: The Demonic Predator learns the starting skill of the Lancer class, gaining basic proficiency with spears and halberds.

A completely different style of fighting. In fact, every skill on the list was like that.

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So… I’m going to learn to use a spear?

It actually made sense. The essence of his class was to use any weapon necessary to bring down prey.

But it’s only Common rarity… is it worth it?

The knowledge itself would be new, so the rank being common fit. Still, he couldn’t help thinking he could just learn a spear on his own, the same way he’d picked up archery without a skill.

Kind of a waste to burn a skill choice on something I could figure out myself.

Still, it was basically a free perk; his class had hijacked his unused level 45 skill slot from his old class.

Even so… I wouldn’t mind getting another powerful Demonic Assassin skill.

The next option blinked into view:

[Basic Hand-to-Hand (Uncommon)]: The Demonic Predator learns the starting skill of the Pugilist class, gaining basic proficiency in unarmed strikes and close-quarters combat.

He figured that one came from his growing mastery of stamina-based melee combat.

Again, something I can train on my own. Pretty useless.

Charlie had been drilling him in unarmed fighting during downtime anyway.

[Basic Axe Fighting (Common)]: The Demonic Predator learns the starting skill of the Barbarian class, gaining basic proficiency in wielding axes with brute force.

That one was obvious, probably triggered by his use of the minotaur’s axe, the same weapon he’d used to break the serpent’s fang for the first time. A fang that later killed the beast when he pumped it full of mana.

Then he reached the final option. And this one… this one carried a different kind of weight. Something almost sentimental.

[Basic Archery (Common)]: The Demonic Predator learns the starting skill of the Archer class, gaining proficiency with bows and precision shots.

Of course. That had to be because of Angelica’s bow.

Damn it… they’re all useless. Now what?

He stared at the list again. One skill to teach him spear work, another for unarmed combat, one for axes, and one for archery, and he was already good with a bow. Out of all of them, the only weapons he didn’t already know how to use were spears and axes.

I’m definitely past basic archery by now. Why waste a choice on this?

He practically considered himself an archer already.

“I just don’t use the bow much because I don’t get class experience with it,” he muttered.

Then something clicked in his head, loud and sharp, like a lightning strike.

“No. No, no, no,” he breathed, staring at the options in disbelief. “This can’t mean what I think it means, right?”

“What is it, Luke?” Artemis asked.

But he wasn’t listening. He was grinning like a lunatic, energy spiking through him.

“Holy shit. Holy shit!” He paced in tight circles, almost bouncing on his heels. “The damn new skill options for the Demonic Predator class are combat styles!”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Artemis pressed.

He stopped, eyes fixed on the list. “It means… whatever I kill using the combat style from one of these skills will actually give me class experience points!”

He didn’t waste another second. His finger slammed down on the choice.

[You have acquired the Class Skill: Basic Archery]

The bow materialized in his hand.

“Finally,” he said with a sharp exhale.

Now, every kill with the bow would yield class XP exactly as if he’d killed with his kukris. The weapon was officially one of his class’s primary tools. A low, satisfied laugh slipped out.

“Man, you’re laughing like some bargain-bin movie villain right now, you know that?” Artemis said dryly.

These skills said more about the nature of his class than any formal description ever could. A predator had to be able to take down its prey by any means necessary. And now, as a Demonic Predator, the bow was officially one of those means.

He didn’t hesitate.

“Oh my god. Predator’s Mark and Basic Archery, hello, new class XP farm.”

Pulling the Beast Lord’s Fang from his storage item, he grinned.

“I can kill the damn Midnight Lord without feeling guilty about wasting points now.”

For a moment, his gaze drifted to the serpent’s corpse dissolving in its own acid. Then he turned away, already walking, his mind blazing with possibilities.

Then he stopped and pulled a black stone from his inventory.

“So, little snake… ready to be my familiar?” he asked.

The serpent’s image lit up within the stone.

“No! We will never be friends!” the Beast Lord hissed.

“Well, if you agree to be my familiar, you could leave this stone and face me directly. What do you say?”

The glow faded, leaving only silence.

“So that means a familiar can’t harm its master. Interesting,” Luke muttered, studying the stone.

“Human! I will never be your ally!” it flared again, then went dark once more.

Luke tucked the stone back into his inventory.

“What’s your next move?” Artemis asked. “And I’m not talking about your plan to tame Mr. Pants-Shitter. I mean your actual goals. That grin on your face tells me you’re not going to bed early tonight.”

He glanced around. The whole capital lay open before him.

“I’m going to try to find a monster willing to become my second servant, and then…” His gaze shifted to a very specific point in the distance. “I’ll continue with the plan. Activate the second mechanism… and maybe start a war with Bartholomew.”

“Maybe?”

“You know me. My ‘maybe’ usually means ‘definitely.’”

And with that, Luke set off into the capital, hunting for his next servant and perhaps the first spark of a one-man war.