Becoming the Dark Lord

Ronan crouched low in the brush, muscles tight, breath measured, straining to see through the fog blanketing the forest around the fortress. Shadows from the trees stretched across the damp ground, and every snapping twig seemed louder than it had any right to be. All around him, the group stayed hidden, waiting for the moment to strike.

He still couldn’t quite believe what Luke had promised. It wasn’t just the audacity of sneaking into the fortress alone; it was the absolute conviction with which he’d said he could kill seventy people without raising the alarm. Ronan didn’t doubt his skills, he’d seen plenty, but the calm, almost casual way the man talked about slaughter made his skin crawl.

With Kruger or Marshall, madness was obvious. They laughed, screamed, reveled in the twisted pleasure of chaos. Luke was different. He spoke little, moved fast, and seemed distant. His indifference was cold, almost inhuman, and it set Ronan’s nerves on edge. Whenever Luke told old stories, violent memories paired with a faint, private smile, Ronan felt a chill he couldn’t explain.

He’d fought Luke once. Calling it a fight was generous; it had been a massacre. Luke had charged thirty men in under a minute and walked away with an arrow still lodged in his chest. The scene was so unreal that veteran soldiers still trembled when they spoke of it. Since then, Ronan had tried to gauge the man’s strength and never managed to find its limits.

Bartholomew’s meeting had laid everyone’s fear bare. Only Kruger and a handful of others had agreed to take part. The rest refused outright, terrified at the thought of crossing Luke. To Ronan, it was obvious: any rebellion had to be run by people who didn’t really know Luke. Anyone who had crossed him once rarely dared pick up arms against him again.

During his time with Allison’s group, Ronan had worked hard to gather information, especially from Mason, his old blacksmith mentor. That was when he’d learned a grim truth: no one there really understood how dangerous Luke was. They only knew that he’d been near the peak of the rank even back then. But it wasn’t about levels or stats, it was his fighting style, his skill, his speed. In combat, Luke was like a ghost, a blur in your vision, and then, suddenly, his opponent was down, dead or unconscious.

Kruger, the most dangerous man of the tutorial, had fallen to Luke. He’d died in an ambush he himself had set to kill him. Luke had walked away without a flicker of satisfaction or remorse. Kruger had been just another obstacle to clear. That icy detachment ate at Ronan’s nerves.

Luke was terrifyingly versatile, hand-to-hand combat, bows, blades, even strange magic. He’d survived months in the capital on his own, moving through streets and tunnels with unsettling ease. He knew secret paths, hidden lairs where powerful creatures waited. Worst, or most impressive of all, he’d killed the Beast Lord alone. No sane man would face that creature without an army. Ronan had read the survivors’ report: a colossal serpent that spat acid, taken down by Luke “by luck,” or so he claimed. That version was impossible to believe.

Luke still carried whatever the monster had dropped upon dying. No one knew what it was, a weapon, a piece of gear, an artifact. Ronan preferred not to speculate. Stranger still was how Luke downplayed his feats, as if walking through hell was just part of his routine.

Now they waited in the shadows, watching the fortress from afar. The sentries on the tower were gone, Luke had already handled them. Only the gate guards remained, the last barrier before the alarm would be raised.

Ronan’s chest tightened with tension. He shifted closer to Allison, still crouched.

“Who is Luke, really?” he asked quietly.

The group glanced at him without taking their eyes off the fortress.

“What do you mean?” Allison replied.

Every eye turned toward him then, curious, wary.

“It’s more than obvious that guy isn’t normal,” Ronan muttered, eyes locked on the fortress. “He came into the tutorial with you. Is he your bodyguard? Some noble in disguise?”

“Seriously? You’re going to ask that now?” Evangeline’s tone dripped with irony, but her eyes stayed on the bowstring. “After all these days traveling together?”

Ronan swallowed the retort. At least now he knew where Luke was. Before, it had been impossible to track him; the man melted into the environment, moving without a sound. Even when he left, he slipped back unnoticed. But with him inside the fortress, Ronan finally felt free to give voice to his doubts.

“He’s just a regular person from Earth, like anyone else from the tutorial,” Allison said evenly.

Ronan almost laughed out loud but held it in, not wanting to give away their position.

Mason scratched the back of his neck, clearly uneasy. “The nobility in this world is vast. I don’t know them all, but… he doesn’t strike me as one of them.”

Everyone’s eyes slid back to Allison. She drew a slow breath. “Like I said, he’s just someone who landed here. None of us are the same anymore. This place forces you past your limits.”

Ronan knew that all too well. He’d killed people himself, but always for a greater cause, to defend the Safe Zone. There had always been a line.

“And you’re not afraid he might turn on you?” he pressed. “That he’ll swing that blade your way?”

“Weren’t you the one running around with Kruger?” Jack cut in, dry as dust. “If anyone was crazy, it was that guy.”

Ronan drew a slow breath, holding his temper. “Kruger was a rabid dog, but he was on Bartholomew’s leash.”

That was the problem. Kruger craved power but wanted order. Predictable. Luke wasn’t. Luke didn’t need luxury, companionship, or authority. If he decided everyone had to die to get back to Earth, Ronan feared he’d do it without hesitation. That was what he was trying to say without saying it outright. If all the major players fell and Luke ended up as the strongest left standing, Ronan knew he couldn’t stop him.

“You’re actually scared of him?” Eleanor asked, one eyebrow raised.

“Yeah, he’s scared of Cinderella,” Evangeline teased. “Want to rattle Luke? Ask him why they call him that.”

A few of them chuckled quietly. Ronan didn’t. He just stared at the horizon, tense, feeling the weight of it all. A raven swooped down in silence, landing on the branch beside them. The signal.

“That’s it,” Evangeline said.

Eleanor took aim, loosed an arrow, and dropped one of the guards with a clean shot to the head. Two more arrows followed, cutting down the last sentries at the gate. A muffled cry rose from a civilian at the nearby camp. The group broke from cover, moving toward the fortress.

“It’s all right,” Allison called as she stepped into the open.

Quinn appeared from the other side, sprinting to join them. But Ronan didn’t relax. The signal only meant one thing: Luke had already gone inside and cleared the fortress without being seen. The heavy groan of the gates echoed through the valley as they swung open. A crowd began pouring out.

If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it’s taken without the author’s consent. Report it.

“Father!” a woman shouted, clutching a plant to her chest as she ran.

“Layla!” an older man cried back, rushing to meet her.

Families collided in relief amid the chaos, clutching weapons and glancing around with wary eyes.

“It’s all right, everyone. We’ve handled it,” Allison said, trying to calm the flood of people.

“Lady Rhiannon?” someone blurted in disbelief at the sight of her. “I thought you were dead…”

The crowd surged closer, spilling over each other’s words as they recounted what had happened, their voices thick with panic and awe. But Ronan drifted away from the stories, weaving through the mass of people, searching for one face in particular—and not finding it.

He sprinted toward the fortress. Every spot where he’d expected enemy soldiers stood empty. No bodies. No blood. Nothing.

He actually did it…

Ronan stopped and drew a deep breath. He didn’t want to believe it, but the truth pressed in all around him.

“I left one of them tied up inside,” said a voice behind him.

Ronan spun, heart hammering. Luke stood there, as if he’d materialized out of thin air. Not a sound had warned of his approach.

“Right…” Ronan forced his tone to stay neutral. “We need to question him, find out what happened.”

“There are some problems. I’ll brief the others,” Luke replied, already turning away.

Ronan watched him walk off. “Good thing you’re on our side,” he muttered under his breath.

Luke glanced back, puzzled.

“Nothing,” Ronan covered quickly.

When the man walked away, Ronan swallowed hard. Seventy people… dead… and Luke didn’t even seem to care.

***

“We should just go over there and kill that guy right now!” Artemis snapped, her voice sharp with frustration.

Luke rifled through his room, ignoring the outburst while everything else was still being sorted out.

“They stole our food!” Artemis said again, louder this time. She was genuinely furious.

“Seriously? That’s what you’re worried about?” Luke asked without looking up.

“Luke, we need priorities and focus, okay? Priorities! Food matters, man!”

He ignored her and moved down the fortress hallways, doing one last sweep for hidden enemies. He’d even shed his assassin’s outfit because of Allison. There was no way he was pledging himself to Lakarion or to some lunatic god with a name that sounded like a Sith Lord. Sure, Azazel felt basically like a Sith to him, but if he had to pick between Siths, he’d pick the one who hadn’t murdered his friend’s adoptive mother.

That outfit was just another tool like his old Minotaur axe from the Order of the God of the Forge, one more relic tossed into the tutorial by deranged gods looking for followers. He didn’t care.

“Now that I have the outfit, I can at least help Allison understand how that insane order she wants to destroy actually works,” he muttered.

And in the back of his mind he wondered if Erza Grimhart or any of her assassin maids had similar gear. At some point they’d have to be ready for that fight.

He reached the chamber where the mages had been corroded by the acid cloud and began stashing their remains in his pocket dimension.

“Stop shoving that crap in here!” Artemis barked.

He kept hauling everything toward a side room.

“So, snake, was it fun watching me fight epic battles while you sat there as a rock doing nothing?” he asked.

“Don’t talk to me,” Franky’s voice muttered from inside the stone.

“Looks like the kid’s at the lock-himself-in-his-room stage,” Artemis said dryly.

Luke dumped the bodies in the garden. Out of respect for Angelica, he wasn’t about to keep corpses in the same pocket dimension as her.

“There’s still a head in here, man,” Artemis said.

Luke plucked the head out, booted it onto the pile of corpses, and walked away from the garden.

His clothes were drenched in blood. With a quick flick through the system, he unequipped and reequipped his adventurer’s gear, coming out clean as if nothing had happened.

***

They’d gathered in one of the fortress rooms, the air still thick with the metallic tang of blood and the acrid sting of smoke. Stone walls muffled the outside world, wrapping the room in a heavy stillness. Even with the fortress secured, everyone knew the real problem was just beginning. ℴℴ𝘮

The key leaders of the Haven were gone. Eugene, Miriam, Gilbert, Thiara, Cecilia — pillars of morale and leadership, now in enemy hands. Luke had scoured the dungeons and found nothing. The only conclusion left was that they’d been taken during the attack.

“Where are they, you bastard?” Quinn roared, slamming a fist into the chest of Caleb, the bandit leader Luke had captured. Chains rattled with the blow.

“I told you already,” Caleb stammered, pale and sweating. “A man from Bastion knocked them out and ordered them taken away. That’s all I know.”

The description matched Jonathan, the same man who’d worked with Bartholomew during Kruger’s ambush.

“Jonathan’s completely lost it,” Quinn muttered through clenched teeth.

“He also took our supplies,” Allison added. “Food, lumber, stone, ore, seeds, clothes, potions… everything we gathered. Gone.”

Caleb shrank under the weight of their stares. “I’ll cooperate, anything you want. Just don’t kill me. I didn’t harm any hostage while they were captive.”

They left him chained and filed into the corridor, their footsteps echoing through the hushed fortress.

“Bartholomew will use the hostages to blackmail us,” Mason said, tightening the gauntlet on his forearm.

“It doesn’t matter,” Allison shot back. “We’ve already planned to strike and take his stronghold. He might have fed his soldiers lies, but his plan died the moment we survived Kruger’s ambush. If we tell the truth, his own people will turn on him, and so will the Safe Zone. Everyone wants to go back to Earth.”

A sound echoed down the corridor, hurried footsteps. Evangeline burst in, face taut with urgency.

“Jerry says a group from Bastion is on its way here,” she warned, breathless.

***

Outside, a squad of Bastion soldiers waited. They looked wrecked—clothes torn, wounds half-bandaged, eyes hollow with exhaustion. Haven survivors shouted from behind raised weapons.

“You betrayed us, you bastards!” a man roared. “You worked with the bandits!”

“We didn’t do anything!” one of the soldiers yelled back.

The tension crackled. One wrong move and the whole place would explode. Quinn had already stationed marksmen in the towers, bows drawn, fingers ready.

“Everyone back off!” Allison ordered. “Stay as far from them as you can.”

Hidden among the crowd, Luke let his hand brush over his assassin garb, triggering the Crowd Shadow enchantment. The black plating shimmered, turning into the illusion of plain clothes. He moved like a ghost through the press of bodies, edging closer, reading every twitch and angle. He could stop arrows. Assassins were another story. His instincts were screaming that something was off.

“We came to ask for help!” one of them cried, voice breaking. His gaze locked on Ronan and nearly dissolved into tears. “Commander, you’re alive…”

“Help?” Mason’s tone was sharp with suspicion.

“Our Safe Zone is falling,” another soldier blurted.

“You sold us out!” someone from the Haven spat back.

“Explain yourselves!” Ronan stepped forward, his voice cutting through the clamor.

“The Midnight Warden is attacking our Safe Zone right now. We heard you’d returned and came begging for help.”

“This is their fault!” a soldier near the rear shouted. “It’s because you went to the other side!”

The Midnight Warden attacking a Safe Zone? That was supposed to be impossible. No one had triggered another mechanism.

Ronan’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean? Spell it out.”

“It started less than an hour ago,” the soldier gasped. “Right after one of our scouts said you’d arrived. The Midnight Guard began pouring into the Safe Zone. It’s chaos.”

“We haven’t activated a third mechanism,” Allison said, but her voice wavered.

Evangeline’s eyes hardened. “There’s only one way to break a Safe Zone… and you all know what it is, don’t you?”

***

The group tore through the fortress corridors. When they reached the mechanism chamber, the entrance lay choked with rubble.

“Caleb said Jonathan sealed it,” Luke recalled. “Probably to keep the bandits out and away from the mechanism.”

Evangeline dissolved into shadow; Luke became mist. Both slipped through the debris. The mechanism was still in place, but they had to be sure. A glowing notification flickered into existence before them:

[Mechanisms activated: 1/3]

[Warning: Only those who activated the mechanism can deactivate it.]

“He shut his off,” Evangeline said, her voice dark.

Bartholomew had deactivated his own mechanism, throwing the Safe Zone into chaos.