Becoming the Dark Lord

Jonathan leaned against the balcony railing, watching the heavy sky hanging over the city. The black clouds looked frozen in place, as if held there by some invisible force. Rain fell relentlessly. It always did. A full month had passed since he’d left the tutorial, and even in that short span, everything about him had changed.

He was no longer the same person.

His tongue slid slowly across his mouth, brushing against the fangs that were now part of him. The motion was unconscious, almost instinctive. There was power there. Real power. Jonathan turned and stepped back into his quarters, leaving behind the constant hiss of rain striking the building’s frame.

That city was perfect for him.

Being a vampire, however, came with a price. During the day, Jonathan felt the weight of weakness settle over him. The sun was a constant irritation, an oppressive presence that drained his strength little by little. It wasn’t unbearable pain. It felt more like a severe migraine spread throughout his entire body, as if every muscle were under pressure. Using an umbrella helped, blocking part of the sunlight, but the weakness debuff remained. Even so, it was a small price to pay.

At night, everything changed.

Once the sun disappeared, Jonathan felt whole. Power flowed freely, his body responding with absurd precision and strength. In the darkness, he carried the unmistakable certainty that he was unstoppable.

The city itself was anything but ordinary.

It was called Rain City, a place unlike any other in the world. Built directly beneath a permanent climate anomaly, the sky above it was eternally smothered in dense, black clouds. The rain never stopped. It was a continuous cycle, almost alive.

That anomaly had reshaped everything.

Unique plants had emerged. Fruit-bearing trees that grew nowhere else, sustained by soil that seemed to react to the rain itself, to the mana infused within it. Scientifically, it made no sense. Jonathan knew that. By every rule he’d ever studied, the place shouldn’t exist. And yet, it did.

The city’s structures had been molded to survive that reality. Reinforced rooftops. Massive drainage systems. Streets designed to endure endless water. Still, Rain City wasn’t just weather-resistant.

It was a New World metropolis known as the Lawless City.

Divided into districts, each controlled by a different mafia, it had no kings, no presidents, no traditional government. The underworld ruled openly. Illicit businesses thrived without restraint: drugs, prostitution, slavery. Smuggled weapons, rare scrolls, magical beasts. Anything could be bought. Everything had a price.

The city maintained its own form of security, one that answered to no common laws. Rumors claimed that one of the world’s greatest criminals lived there, protected by the city’s very chaos.

Jonathan stepped back onto the balcony and fixed his gaze on the central structure dominating the skyline. A colossal building shaped like a gigantic Halloween pumpkin, its facade carved into a grotesque, grinning face. Impossible to ignore. Perfectly symbolic.

In Rain City, anyone could conduct their darkest business, as long as they paid the proper tribute. The city’s rulers asked no questions. Divine Orders, particularly those classified as Malignant Orders, maintained strongholds there. Gods were neither good nor evil. They all had interests. Some desired worship. Others craved fear.

Those who wanted to be feared usually recruited people like Kruger. For them, order meant nothing. Only chaos mattered. Jonathan learned quickly that, in that world, even assassins could be hired. People willing to kill for a specific price.

He had only made it this far because of the Vampire God he had agreed to serve. The one who carried the title of Head of the Lasiurus Family. The moment Jonathan left the tutorial, he hadn’t walked alone for long. In Camlann, someone was already waiting for him. That was no coincidence. The Vampire God had arranged everything from the instant Jonathan acquired the Blood Slime.

The person who found him was a cultist of the Church of Lasiurus. For decades, those men and women had waited for their god’s blood to arrive on Earth. Humans converted to the Order of Lasiurus, devotees who believed the resurgence of true vampiric power would shift the balance of the world. To them, Jonathan was not merely a newly turned vampire.

He was the Chosen of Lasiurus.

Of the five existing vampire lineages, only three could manifest in that universe. The other two were completely sealed away, except under extremely specific conditions. Only within a special tutorial, like the one Jonathan had survived, could such a thing occur.

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Those two lineages were Lasiurus and Vespertilio. Jonathan learned that the Vespertilio no longer had a Vampire God-King. They were practically extinct. Without a divine core to sustain them, they had faded away over time. That made Jonathan’s situation even more unique.

He was the only person on Earth carrying one of the legendary vampiric bloodlines. Jonathan raised his hand in front of his eyes, studying it closely. He could feel the power flowing beneath his skin, alive, pulsing. His Blood Core was completely full. For the first time since his transformation, he understood what true power felt like.

If Luke found him now, Jonathan was certain he would crush him with ease. Especially with the vampiric abilities he now commanded. The door to the room opened. Jonathan was inside one of the Church of Lasiurus’s bases, hidden deep beneath the Rain City.

“Chosen Jonathan, how are you feeling?”

The voice came with the entrance of a man with rigid posture. His gaze was cold, devoid of any visible emotion. The severe expression matched his deep voice. He wore a red robe and a white hat, reminiscent of ancient cult attire seen in old films. But there was no performance here.

This was real.

The man was Dmitri Kuznetsov. Founder of the Church of Lasiurus on Earth. A dangerous individual. In the past, he had been a powerful mafia criminal. Now, he held the title of Grand Master.

“I feel great,” Jonathan replied.

Only a few hours had passed since his arrival.

“It’s the first time since my transformation that I’ve managed to completely fill my Blood Core. The sense of power is overwhelming.”

The Grand Master simply nodded, as if that answer was exactly what he had expected.

“You will come with me to meet someone.”

Dmitri cast a brief glance at the assistants waiting silently nearby.

“Put him in appropriate attire.”

Jonathan knew that carrying the blood of Lasiurus meant he had to be kept under extreme security. Even among the cultists, there were those who willingly offered themselves as cattle. People ready to exist for a single purpose: to feed the Chosen.

Jonathan fed from one of them, drinking slowly, without urgency. That source would never run dry. There would always be cattle available to keep him strong.

Once he finished preparing himself, he and Grand Master Kuznetsov moved down a long corridor, descending flight after flight of stairs. The air grew heavier with every step. They were deep beneath Rain City.

“I’m going to introduce you to someone important today,” the Grand Master said as they walked. “He’s been the church’s primary benefactor for years. He’s the one who will be transformed into a vampire first.”

Jonathan had heard of the man. Powerful. One of the city’s true heavyweights. The criminal group he led bore the symbol of a reaper.

“You must remain protected, Jonathan,” Kuznetsov continued. “Only a powerful vampire can perform the transformation ritual. But at the same time, the only way for you to grow stronger is by killing powerful creatures… or powerful people.”

The Grand Master paused briefly before continuing.

“You’ll be under our protection during these battles. We’ll provide equipment, and there will always be cattle nearby so you can drink and recover if necessary. But you know the rule, don’t you?”

Jonathan knew the agreement he had made with Lasiurus all too well.

“Until the entire upper echelon of the church is turned into vampires, I don’t act freely. I know the pact. You don’t need to remind me. I was there. I am the Chosen. The most exceptional participant of the tutorial.”

His answer was firm, without hesitation. There was no hollow arrogance in his voice, only certainty. He understood his role. He understood the weight of the blood flowing through his veins.

For now, Luke would have to wait.

Before settling any score, Jonathan needed to grow even stronger. He needed to spread the blood, honor the pact made with Lasiurus and with the Church. That didn’t bother him. Quite the opposite. Every new vampire was another step toward consolidating his power. When he finally met Luke again, there would be no doubt about the outcome. Jonathan felt it with absolute clarity.

All his life, he had carried a constant emptiness. A sense of displacement, as if he never truly belonged anywhere. Nothing had made sense before. Now, everything did. The tutorial had been designed for him. Every challenge, every loss, every obstacle existed solely to bring him to this moment.

Everyone else had been there to contribute to his victory. To shape him into the Chosen. That truth pressed down on him now with undeniable force. If Angélica had survived, she would have understood as well. She would have seen what he saw now. She would have been his. Jonathan was certain of it. Because for the first time in his life, he felt capable of having whatever he wanted. All he had to do was eliminate those who had humiliated him.

The memories surfaced effortlessly. Years of suffering at school. Contempt within his own family. Voices that belittled him. Looks that treated him as irrelevant. All of that belonged to the past.

Now, Jonathan was stronger than all of them.

Even so, his ascension as the Chosen would not be complete while Luke still lived. That death would mark the final end of who he had once been. The old Jonathan would die there, and the new one would rise fully formed.

I will find you, Luke. I know I will.

When that moment came, Jonathan would savor the fear taking hold of him. There would be no escape. No resistance. No one would ever stand against him again. Jonathan knew the truth. He was special.