Becoming the Dark Lord

The acid cloud finally thinned, unraveling into the air like a gray veil torn apart. The metallic stench of rot still hung over the clearing, but the crushing pressure eased. The instant the Phantom Assassin died, Luke felt the venom inside him lose its grip. It was like a hostile tide retreating, leaving only waves of pain in its wake.

In just a few minutes of fighting he’d burned through more than three thousand hit points. Open wounds and corrosive toxins were in a dead heat to see which would destroy him first.

[Health Points (HP) 1282/4340]

“Good thing I dumped so many points into Vitality…” His voice came out rough, eyes flicking over the damage etched into his body.

If not for the Blood of Mother Freya, he’d already be dead.

[Corrupted Blood of Mother Freya (Ultra-Rare)]: The botanist’s blood, once blessed by Mother Freya and now fused with a demonic symbiotic essence, has evolved into a living organism. It functions as a perfect catalyst, enhancing and stabilizing any plant-based concoction. When applied to flora, it regenerates damaged tissue, accelerates growth, and can even revive near-dead specimens. It allows cultivation in infertile soil and can induce natural mutations, reshaping plant structures. Internally, the mutation has fortified the user’s body. The blood now grants high resistance, or even immunity, to most poisons and diseases, thanks to active antibodies that seek and neutralize threats with lethal efficiency.

The blood was fighting the poison with increasing efficiency, but Luke had still lost far more HP than expected. Kruger’s epic skills had made him a nightmare in a one on one fight, a truly lethal opponent.

And yet the assassin had met his natural predator, ironically, Luke.

Maybe Kruger had something that amplified poison, he thought, already filing away a note to research enemies who applied debuffs.

Worse than the physical pain had been the assault on his mind. No magical blood could block that. During the fight it felt like invisible needles stabbing into his skull while a deafening screech, like claws raking across slate, echoed inside his head.

“So mental damage is a thing too… just like poison,” he muttered.

The buzzing vanished the moment Kruger died.

“At least it’s not permanent.”

He took a long breath, clarity creeping back, and pulled two powerful healing potions from his storage item.

[Healing Potion (Common) Restores 503 HP.]

He drank them back to back, the sweet liquid sliding down his throat. Warmth spread slowly through his body, knitting minor wounds and feeding a faint pulse of energy back into his muscles.

“If he thought pushing me to the edge of insanity mid fight would help, he miscalculated,” Luke muttered, slipping the empty bottles away.

He rose, muscles still taut and heavy. With a smooth motion, he conjured an arrow from his enchanted quiver. The bow materialized in his hand, light and steady, ready to fire.

[Mana Points (MP): 6/5100]

[Mana Points (MP): -5]

[Mana Points (MP): 1/5100]

His feet carried him into the dense forest, weaving between scorched trunks and blackened leaves. Mason’s explosions had turned the camp into a ruin, trees toppled, clearings carved open by force, fires still eating their way outward in ragged circles. The smell of burned wood and blood fused into a choking atmosphere. He passed the corpses of assassins he’d cut down minutes earlier. Eric’s lifeless body lay where it had fallen, and Luke didn’t slow. His eyes kept sweeping the terrain, every sense still on high alert.

Frost scored the ground ahead, jagged lines carved into earth. Shards like crystal blades jutted up, catching the firelight. Allison’s work, most likely, though it could have been another ice mage. He bet on her. A figure darted between the trees up ahead, someone he didn’t recognize. Without hesitation, Luke drew the bowstring, exhaled, and loosed the arrow.

[You have slain a Human…]

[+1 Soul Fragment acquired]

’My lessons really paid off. I’m actually proud of myself.’ Artemis whispered in his mind.

The body hit the ground with a heavy thud. Luke sprinted to it, yanked his arrow free, and glanced at the intact tip before moving on through the wreckage.

“I surrender!” someone shouted ahead, stumbling out from behind a boulder with hands raised.

Luke didn’t slow. He loosed another arrow, this one burying itself in the man’s throat. The muffled gasps mixed with the wet patter of blood on scorched earth.

“Fuck your surrender,” Luke muttered, eyes scanning for more targets.

[You have slain a Human…]

[+1 Soul Fragment acquired]

He climbed the angled trunk of a fallen tree and got a panoramic view of the battlefield. The camp had become a mosaic of flames, bodies, and shattered debris. From a stone house in the distance, an archer fired shot after shot, Eleanor.

Luke dropped to the ground and ran toward the Wild Zone gate.

“It’s over!” A voice boomed, sharp with command, Ronan.

Luke leapt down from another tree, his whole body throbbing with pain. Near the gate he spotted Jack crouched behind a slab of rubble, gripping the axe Luke had given him in one hand and a wand in the other. Around him lay a grotesque carpet of dismembered enemies.

Beside Jack stood a figure Luke knew instantly. As soon as he saw her, he closed the distance and wrapped her in a fierce embrace.

“Hey, Charlie,” he breathed, every wound throbbing under her touch.

She didn’t care about the blood or the dust. Her hands moved over him quickly, checking each injury with urgent precision.

“Charlie… don’t drop your guard. You even sent your sword back to your inventory,” Luke murmured, still short of breath.

’Let her have the moment, dummy.’ Artemis teased inside his head, the tone almost playful.

Charlie paused and met Luke’s gaze. Her fingers brushed dried blood and bruises, then curled into a trembling fist, rage tightening her knuckles for whoever had hurt him.

“It’s fine. Whoever did this to me is dead,” Luke said, trying to calm her.

Jack shot to his feet, still breathing hard.

“Luke, you had to be there! It was insane. First there were explosions, and then Charlie grabbed me like a twig and threw me here and then these guys came out and she started swinging and then this shadow guy appeared and then…”

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Luke clamped a hand over Jack’s mouth. “You’re in shock. Don’t drop your guard.”

In the original plan, Charlie’s role was clear. Protect the healer. Dragging Jack into the heart of the ambush had been risky but necessary, he was the only one who could raise the epic barrier. Now, after what had happened, he had to be moved somewhere safe.

Before they could say more, heavy footsteps echoed through the trees. Charlie reacted instantly, pulling her sword from her inventory and stepping forward to shield them. Evangeline emerged from the underbrush with Ronan slung over her shoulder. Both were streaked with blood, but Ronan was far worse, his body looked like a human pincushion, arrows jutting out at sick angles.

“Help me with the big guy,” Evangeline panted, lowering him to the ground.

Ronan slumped back against a rock, his face twisted in pain. Jack crouched beside him and pressed the wand to a wound. A soft green light bloomed, slow but steady.

“Where are the others?” Luke asked Evangeline.

“You’re a wreck, Luke,” she shot back, giving him a quick once-over before tilting her head toward the trees. “Allison and Mason went to sweep the area. Survivors are surrendering, the rest either ran or died. I handled the shadow assassins.”

That was exactly her role: eliminating hidden killers. She was the only one with a natural sense for magical shadows.

“Mason went after the enemy? He’s out of mana,” Luke muttered, frowning.

“They don’t know that,” Evangeline replied with a thin, nervous laugh.

Eleanor dropped from the roof of the stone house, landing with practiced grace beside the group. She, Jack, and Charlie looked the least battered of them all.

“No more hostiles heading our way,” Eleanor said. “What about the raven?”

“It’s already airborne, sweeping the perimeter,” Evangeline answered.

Ronan stared at the ground, hollow-eyed. “I can’t believe it… they betrayed us.”

“You’re the only one who couldn’t,” Luke said flatly.

As they spoke, Luke flicked open the Princess Charlie notifications hovering at the edge of his vision.

The [Pugilist] 2nd Class of Princess Charlie has reached Level 42! (+3 Strength, +2 Endurance, +2 Agility, +2 Vitality, +2 Perception, +2 Intelligence, +2 Free Points.)

***

The whole party finally regrouped. Allison and Mason emerged from the forest trailing the smell of smoke and blood. Despite the exhaustion, there was a glint of triumph in their eyes, the ambush within the ambush had worked. Their epic skills had been tested under fire and proven devastating.

Eight against eighty. Almost no one had survived the offensive, a brutal contrast that highlighted the gap between the people at the top of Rank F and everyone else. Not all of them were at their peak, but combined, their power had been overwhelming.

Four enemies knelt on the ground before them, bound and ringed by steel. Two were familiar outlaws from the Wild Zone; one wore Bastion colors. All bore burns, cuts, and streaks of Luke’s acid. They were so wrecked they couldn’t even stand. Eleanor kept an arrow nocked and steady, her bow drawn without a tremor. The others formed a perimeter around the prisoners, eyes sharp for the slightest twitch.

The scraps of intel pried from their captives painted an unsettling picture: the ambush had been orchestrated like a military operation. Wild Zone bandits and a few Bastion soldiers were all working toward the same goal, stopping the tutorial’s progression. Promises had been made to grant them a new Safe Zone with privileged access to the fortress and its reward events.

Allison pressed the edge of her katana to the throat of Ivan, the Bastion soldier. His right arm was scorched, half his ear eaten away by acid.

“What happened to the previous group?” she asked, voice flat. “The ones stationed at this camp.”

“They were ordered out… sent back. Bartholomew’s orders,” Ivan stammered.

Luke folded his arms. “And everyone just obeyed without question? I doubt it.”

“No one was crazy enough to abandon this place,” Allison murmured, pressing the blade harder.

Ivan swallowed hard. “I—I don’t know all the details. I arrived later, it was already taken. They just said your Safe Zone was under attack, that Bartholomew and Haven were calling for help.”

“And everyone just jumped to obey?” Evangeline asked, one brow arched.

Ivan looked away, hesitating. “Scouts were sent to confirm. Your Safe Zone… it’s been invaded. The fortress is ours now.”

Mason gave a dry laugh.

Bartholomew, at least on paper, controlled both Safe Zones.

“I find it hard to believe they took it without resistance.” Luke said.

As he weighed the pieces, unease coiled tighter. All the work they’d done to advance the tutorial now seemed corroded by some hidden alliance.

“How many of you are there?” Luke asked, breaking the silence.

Ronan stepped closer, still battered but steady. Jack sat inside one of the stone houses, meditating under Charlie’s watch to recover mana.

“Ivan, we need to know if everyone turned on us,” Ronan said, voice heavy. “You have my word, you won’t be harmed.”

“I don’t know how all of this works,” Ivan muttered. “I came straight from Bastion. But… while you were restoring the new Safe Zone, the soldiers left there were nervous. Nobody wants to die in the final mission.”

“Killing us was the solution?” Mason asked, his tone pure acid.

They withdrew a little, leaving Evangeline and Charlie on guard. Once at a safe distance, the discussion began.

“Something went wrong in our Safe Zone,” Eleanor said, her gaze sweeping over the others.

“Not everyone betrayed us,” Ronan insisted. “We need to confirm what actually happened. Maybe we can talk before this escalates.”

“Talk?” Mason practically spat the word. “They tried to kill us. If they’ve taken the fortress, people have already died.”

Every eye shifted toward the four prisoners.

“So what do we do?” Eleanor asked quietly. “Leave them here while we run?”

“We kill them,” Allison replied, her tone flat.

“I agree,” Eleanor added without a flicker of emotion.

Ronan’s eyes snapped between them. “Kill? No. Not surrendered prisoners. I won’t do that.”

“You don’t have to,” Luke said, his hand already resting on the hilt of a kukri.

Ronan stared at the captives, conflict twisting his face. “No. There has to be another way. We’ll take them prisoner.”

Allison gave a humorless little laugh. “You’re joking, right?”

“I know Ivan. We patrolled together dozens of times,” Ronan muttered.

“And he’d kill you without a second thought,” Luke cut in. “You’re only hesitating because you know him.”

Ronan’s jaw clenched. “Every life we take now is one less fighter for the final battle.”

“You honestly think they’ll stand by us when they find out the final mission is to survive a war in six hours, otherwise death is certain?” Allison asked sharply. “All it takes is one of them breaking at the wrong moment and everything unravels.”

“I won’t let you kill him. Not until we know everything,” Ronan shot back.

The tension thickened until even the forest fire seemed to hold its breath. The only sound was the crackle of burning wood and the distant settling of ash. Ronan still gripped his sword hilt, trying to convince himself he could save these men. Luke, on the other hand, had already made up his mind. With a single precise motion, the kukri spun through the air. Before Ronan could react, the blade buried itself in Ivan’s face.

[You have slain a Human…]

[+1 Soul Fragment acquired]

The soldier’s body toppled silently, landing with a dull thud. Ronan froze, then spun toward Luke, eyes blazing, and grabbed him by the collar.

“What the hell did you do?” he roared.

Luke seized Ronan’s wrist and pried it off. “He had nothing left to tell us. You really think he wasn’t using Meditation to recharge his mana? Were we supposed to drag all four of them to the fortress? One shout on the way and the entire zone would know where we were.”

Ronan’s teeth ground together. He shoved Luke back, chest heaving. Charlie caught Luke’s eye, and with her sword in hand, she struck the prisoners down like an executioner.

[Princess Charlie has slain a…]

[Princess Charlie has slain a…]

[Princess Charlie has slain a…]

**The [Blood Death Knight] class of Princess Charlie has reached Level 51! (+18 Strength, +10 Intelligence, +8 Endurance, +8 Vitality, +4 Agility, +2 Perception, +10 Free Points)

The jump from Level 50 to 51 was staggering.

“You all agree with this?” Ronan demanded, eyes sweeping the group.

No one answered. The silence was its own verdict.

“Even you, Eleanor?”

“I just want to go back to Earth,” she said at last. “They tried to kill us minutes ago. We’re not exactly executing saints here.”

“They were scared!” Ronan snapped. “Manipulated by Bartholomew. If we could have convinced them, they might have fought for us!”

But the others’ faces stayed impassive.

“You’re right about one thing,” Allison said finally, breaking the silence. “Bartholomew is the real enemy. We can’t count on him or anyone tied to him.”

Luke lowered his gaze, turning over the inevitable in his mind. There was only one conclusion left.

“Bastion has to fall,” he said quietly, “and its king with it.”