Becoming the Dark Lord

The wind filled the ruined throne room, a long, cold voice slipping through gaps in the walls and howling through shattered windows. Snow drove with the gusts, piling over the rubble in a thick, silent blanket. The ceiling was perforated, and flakes sifted down like a constant, freezing rain. The whole structure sagged as if it might collapse at any moment: cracked walls, shifted stones, leaning pillars. The castle was dying along with that cursed winter.

[Estimated Time Until End: 02 minutes and 53 seconds]

[Mana Points (MP): 2/(5100)]

Jonathan stood between Luke and the portal. Quinn’s skin hung on his face like a grotesque mask, and he held a loaded crossbow in his hand.

“Now you’re going to feel what I felt when Angélica died, Luke!” Jonathan shouted.

Luke glanced to the side. Allison lay on the floor, a bolt buried in her chest, right through the heart.

“Allison!” His voice cracked. He sprinted to her and dropped to his knees. Blood ran hot from the wound, staining the snow a bright, furious red. Her hand trembled as it reached for the bolt, then faltered. Pulling it out would be worse.

“Quinn has been dead a long time, Luke,” Jonathan said. “I stayed close to you all this time, since the day I found you after the fortress fell. I waited. Patiently. And now I finally get what I want.”

Luke gathered Allison into his arms. The portal gleamed weakly ahead, an uncertain promise amid the wreckage. He ran.

Jonathan moved suddenly, faster than expected. The shot snapped through the air. Luke turned on instinct, feeling the bolt pass close enough to burn his skin, but he kept running.

“Jonathan, I don’t know what the hell you think you’re doing,” Luke called as he pushed forward. “If your beef is with me, let me put her through the portal and we’ll talk.”

“Talk?” Jonathan dropped the crossbow and drew twin swords from his back. “No, Luke. You’ll watch her die in front of you, like I watched Angélica.”

He charged. Steel flashed and sliced through the air. Luke dodged while holding Allison tight.

“Franky! Help me! Attack him!” Luke shouted, his voice rough.

Franky reacted immediately.

“With pleasure.” The little snake slid across the snow, fast, and sank its fangs into Jonathan’s leg.

An animal scream punched out. Jonathan limped and twisted, pain flickering across his face, but he did not step back.

Luke looked down at Allison. Her skin was pale and cold under his hand. Her chest rose in short, uneven breaths, barely holding on. The bolt had plugged the blood flow. Her features trembled with pain.

“I-I’m… really… dying,” she whispered, voice thin as thread.

“Don’t say that,” Luke said, pressing her to his chest as he ran toward the portal. “A rank change will give you a new body. It will save you.”

He tried to sound steady, but fear knotted his gut. A bolt through the heart could kill. He did not know whether a rank-up could trigger at the point of death.

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He pushed for the portal.

“No! You will not escape!” Jonathan screamed.

Despite Franky still clinging and biting at his leg, Jonathan sprinted forward, blades cutting an arc through the air. Luke twisted to shield Allison. The blade struck his back, the pain erupting hot and deep. The blow stole his breath and slammed him backward. He hit the snow, Allison still cradled in his arms.

Franky launched himself at Jonathan’s throat the instant the bolt struck, his fangs sinking deep as a bead of acidic venom sizzled where it touched. Jonathan screamed, the sound torn away by the wind, and ripped Franky free, flinging him across the room.

The little snake hit stone, slid, and still tried to return.

The castle trembled, the stone vibrating under the force of the wind. Small fragments broke loose and fell, scattering across the floor in constant sharp taps. Its walls were coming apart like sand dragged by an invisible tide. Winter was closing in. Time was running out.

Jonathan stood in front of the portal, blocking the path. The sword was steady in his grip. His body wavered from blood loss, but he didn’t step back.

”Allison is going to die here, Luke. Right in front of you.”

Luke drew in a long breath, fighting the throbbing pain in his back. He lowered Allison carefully onto the snow.

”I laced the bolt with a plague,” Jonathan said. ”It’s over for her, Luke.”

Her heart had been ruined. Blood no longer moved. Her skin was already losing its color. He had no mana. No strength. No time. Her life was slipping away, and he knew it. Even if he carried her through the portal now, she wouldn’t make it.

What do I do?!

Not even Bartholomew survived a wound to the heart. Allison tried to speak, but no sound came. Her eyes were slowly closing. Death had reached her.

No. No. No.

Luke did the only thing his mind could grasp and pulled up his interface.

Bloodline Skill: [Servant of the Dark Lord (Unique)]

Servants: [Princess Charlie (Skeleton) - Lvl 50], [Servant Slot Available]

There was a chance. A gamble. A desperate, irrational, impossible chance. He pressed his hand to one of his wounds, covering his palm in blood.

[Servant of the Dark Lord activated]

The blood on his skin glowed. The skill was ready. He placed his hand against Allison’s forehead.

Go. Go. Please, go!

”You have to accept it, Allison!” Luke shouted.

That’s how the cursed skill worked. Both sides had to agree to the contract. And he was terrified she wasn’t conscious enough to do it.

[Convert Allison Rhiannon (Half-Dragon) into a Servant of the Dark Lord?]

The prompt appeared. Even dying, she was still there.

[Allison Rhiannon (Half-Dragon) is being converted into a Servant of the Dark Lord…]

Her skin turned even paler. Blood spread beneath her body, mixing into the snow, forming a dark, heavy stain.

Move. Convert. Convert now, damn it!

Jonathan watched him, eyes burning. ”That’s how I felt, Luke. Watching Angelica die.”

Luke didn’t even hear him anymore. He stared at the interface as though he could will it to change.

[ERROR!]

[ERROR!]

[ERROR!]

[Conversion Failed!]

A cold spike of dread punched through him. He grabbed her head again, trying to restart the process.

[Warning: A Dark Lord commands monsters as a sovereign of evil beings, forcing them to kneel. The target possesses human traits, making conversion incompatible.]

Luke froze.

Allison… was half human.

”No. No. No,” he whispered, voice breaking.

”Yes, Luke,” Jonathan answered, almost laughing. ”This is exactly what’s happening.”