Becoming the Dark Lord

Luke stood inside one of the temple’s inner chambers. Three cauldrons simmered at once, their contents bubbling as he worked pieces of the serpents he had slain into the mixtures, following Azazel’s instructions to the letter.

“It’s like cleaning meat or sterilizing tools,” Azazel explained. “We’re purifying the magical ingredients you brought, improving their attunement to the mana in the air.”

Azazel would vanish for a while, then return without warning. Whenever they spoke, the conversation always circled back to what Luke needed to do next. Never the past. Never the questions Luke still carried about his bloodline.

“Did I make the right call coming here?” Luke finally asked. “Is this what you wanted me to do?”

“Do you mean forging the core, or reaching the temple?”

“Knowing you, it’s probably all of it.”

Azazel’s presence lingered near the cauldrons. “And what do you want to achieve in the future? Why did you come to Sirius instead of continuing your old life?”

“I want to kill a dragon queen,” Luke answered without hesitation. “I need power.”

“Is that all?” Azazel asked lightly. “If you used my name among the kings of this world, I’m sure some of them wouldn’t hesitate to start a war in exchange for favors from my order.”

“It has to be me,” Luke said. “I want to do it myself.”

But Azazel wasn’t talking about a short-term goal. He was looking further ahead.

“I want to build a utopia,” Luke said at last.

“A utopia?” Azazel sounded amused. “I like how that sounds. What exactly do you mean by that?”

“I don’t want what happened before to ever happen again,” Luke said. “When the dragon queen came for me and took my friend. Or back in the tutorial, when I was forced to kneel under people who called themselves kings or leaders. I want to found a kingdom, but not just any kingdom. The greatest one on my planet.”

He looked straight ahead as he continued. “Inside my kingdom, I want a utopia. A society as close to perfect as possible. No crime. No hunger. No inequality. And if anyone tries to stop me, whether it’s someone from within my own kingdom or an external force, I want the power to erase them. Actually… I want the kind of power that makes no one even consider trying.”

“Now that,” Azazel said, his tone approving, “is a truly interesting ambition, my son. There is no true peace, no true perfection. Those things don’t exist. What does exist is a world shaped in the image of your own convictions.”

“Something like that,” Luke replied. “Even if I have to use fear to get there, I don’t care anymore.”

“Then let me give you a piece of advice,” Azazel said, circling him slowly. “You can never keep a single room completely clean if the rest of the house is filthy. Sooner or later, the wind will carry dust inside, and over time the dirt will return.”

Azazel stopped beside him and placed a hand on Luke’s shoulder. “There is only one way to fully achieve what you want.”

He stepped back. “There can only be one kingdom on your planet.”

After a brief pause, he added, “If that truly is your desire, I can give you guidance.”

Luke didn’t hesitate. “How do I become a Conqueror?”

***

The Red Baron stood atop the highest tower of the base, watching everything below.

The more time I buy, the better this turns out for me.

He controlled the dimensional exit. New soldiers could come and go freely, allowing a steady flow of manpower and resources. As he made his way down through the base, he passed shipments of crates being unloaded. Gunpowder, flammable oils, even disassembled war machines that would be assembled on-site. Everything was coming together.

“Send my regards to your boss and the leader of your organization,” the Daimyo said as he stepped into the room.

Arcadia had been unlucky enough to try and make a move against someone truly dangerous, and they had fallen because of their own mistake.

“Leaving already?” the baron asked.

“Yes. I’ve gotten what I wanted,” the Daimyo replied. “The Reaper Court really is the best when it comes to underworld business.”

They were the ones supplying the Baron. He would never have betrayed the Kingdom of Lagras without a powerful sponsor backing him. The chaos he was creating here served the organization’s interests, feeding into its darker plans. On top of that, he would leave with a few Spirit Tools, and once everything was over, he might even secure a position for Scythe.

Walking through the corridors, the baron smiled.

“The death of the King of Lagras is only a matter of time now.”

The small kingdom of Lagras had crossed the Reapers’ path. A successor allied to them, along with their faction, would take control. Cassandra, the general’s daughter, would die as well. In the end, no one would ever learn what truly happened within this dimension, and the baron would return to the kingdom in time to toast the coronation of the new king.

Cassandra, did you really think I’d do all this without a plan and solid guarantees?

He kept walking. He needed to keep buying time. The larger the dimensional crisis grew in the eyes of the kingdom’s authorities, the better it would be for him.

***

Luke pulled fragments of shattered cores from the boiling mixture. Using [Advanced Potion Preparation], he continuously infused mana into the water, saturating it with magical properties. He was drawing out the power locked inside the cores, even using organs harvested from the serpents themselves.

“I have three pieces of advice that can help you become a Conqueror,” Azazel said. “They helped me reach where I am.”

If Luke truly intended to found a kingdom, there was no better mentor than one of the greatest Conquerors to ever exist.

“And what are they?” Luke asked.

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“The first,” Azazel began, “is to never hesitate to do what must be done to achieve what you want. If you desire something, take it. Do not care about the opinions of others or how they judge you. If you must trample the good or the wicked alike, then do so. Your objective must stand above everything.”

It sounded simple, almost obvious. And yet, as always, Azazel’s answers to his riddles were both simple and disturbingly profound.

“The second,” Azazel continued, “is to see everything as a game board. Never forget that even a pawn can become a queen. Find value in even the smallest creature, enemy or ally. From the lowliest servant to the most skilled general, everyone has their place.” He paused. “And remember this: one true friend is worth more than a thousand servants. Only a friend will have the courage to tell you when you’re about to make a mistake.”

Which meant mistakes were inevitable.

“And the third,” Azazel said, his tone turning colder, “is to always be feared. Be ruthless. If someone harms you, no matter how small the offense, return it a thousandfold.”

That was the end of it.

“Those are my teachings,” Azazel concluded. “If you follow them as a ruler, your kingdom can reach heights even you cannot yet imagine.”

“That still leaves the question of how I’ll found my kingdom, and where,” Luke said.

Azazel stepped closer. “In a few months, you will know the answer,” he replied cryptically.

Luke wasn’t sure if that was meant literally, or if he would uncover the answer on his own. Either way, it felt certain that in a few months’ time, something would change.

***

Several days had passed since his conversation with Azazel. During that time, Luke hadn’t seen Charlie or Angie, nor had he stopped by their camp. He moved with purpose, nothing more. He went out, gathered resources, returned, and repeated the cycle. Right now, he was focused on tracking the Abyss King. Even though Sariel’s Eye was a powerful enough ingredient to help forge the core, he still wanted to find the King himself.

At Witch level 40, Luke had chosen a simple skill from the five options presented to him.

[Clear Mind (Ancient)]: A skill granted to accomplished Witches who have endured harsh trials and tempered their minds within chaos. This skill helps maintain a calm mental state. Even in dire situations, the Witch can act without succumbing to panic.

One reason he had chosen it was the [Ancient] classification. The other was more practical. One of the methods for fusing with a core required absolute mental focus, and now he finally had help with that.

“You’re taking too long. There’ve gotta be more rats around here,” Franky complained.

The young wyvern followed him closely during the hunt.

“Keep your voice down,” Luke warned.

They moved through the caves, and whenever beasts appeared, Luke took them down with thrown knives. He collected a core and handed it to Franky.

[Your familiar Frankzaroth has successfully absorbed a Rank E Mana Core.]

[Rank E Cores (76/100)]

Luke hadn’t given him more because he was still using most of the cores himself. He watched as Franky absorbed it.

That’s what I’m supposed to do too.

“How do you absorb a core? What does it feel like?” Luke asked.

“I just touch it. Then it breaks and that’s it. Core absorbed,” the hatchling replied.

That’s not helpful at all…

[Rank E Cores (77/100)]

There was no system screen for Franky, no option to confirm absorption. It was purely instinctive, something natural to a beast’s body. A zone where the system existed without an interface. That was what Luke needed to learn.

“Let’s go,” he said.

And the two of them continued deeper into the tunnel.

***

Vaelor was forging swords, the steady rhythm of hammer against metal echoing through the chamber. In one corner, Luke Moon sat on the floor in meditation, objects floating around him in slow orbits, guided by a subtle telekinetic force.

“That eye of yours,” Vaelor remarked without looking up. “The one you brought. Where did you get that thing?”

“In the tutorial,” Luke replied.

Not even Vaelor, using several layers of analytical skills, could determine what it was. The system returned only a single response: [Unknown]. Whatever that thing was, it was powerful.

If I were in my true body, I might be able to analyze it properly. What a shame.

His curiosity was genuine.

“The core will need to fuse with you while you’re in Wraith Form,” Vaelor said after a moment. “So why have you been practicing telekinesis these past few days?”

Luke should have been training the other skill instead. Vaelor knew Luke would not uncover the secrets of the ethereal side of wraiths anytime soon. He was not one of them, after all. Which made choosing a Spectral Beast Core a mistake on top of the risks involved. Still, the Primordial of Darkness had told him to let the boy proceed.

Vaelor had spoken to the Primordial only a few times, and the instructions had been very clear: treat Luke Moon normally. Do not mention titles. Do not mention what it meant for him to be the Primordial’s heir.

That alone told Vaelor he was involved in something far larger than himself, a secret spanning countless universes, known only to a few.

“I figured it out,” Luke said, standing up.

“Figured out what?”

“How I can fuse the core with myself.”

He figured it out as if he were a wraith? I doubt it.

“And how exactly did you discover that?” Vaelor asked.

That was the hardest part. To fuse with the core, Luke would have to be in a spectral state, suspended between the physical and nonphysical planes.

“The problem was how to put the core into my soul while I’m a wraith,” Luke explained. “I can’t grab it with my hands. In that state, I’m just dark smoke. I’m not like you, able to stay tangible.”

A core floated toward him.

“Then I thought about telekinesis. It’s the skill to manipulate mana around you, and the mana contained inside an object, moving it with your mind.”

Luke closed his hand around the core.

“Something clicked. When I use Wraith Form, even my clothes and whatever I’m holding turn spectral with me. So instead of dematerializing my body and materializing my soul to fuse with the core, which is way too complicated, I did something simpler.”

Suddenly, the core transformed into a mass of dark mist.

“I infused it with my mana, turned it into something spectral. Then I enter Wraith Form and fuse with it while we’re both just mist.”

Vaelor froze.

“That damned clever bastard,” he muttered. “You got it right…”

He discovered in days what takes a wraith a lifetime to understand. His mana control was not just good, it was absurd. Vaelor had planned to give Luke a hint before leaving. It would please the Primordial, maybe even put Luke Moon in his debt. But there was no need.

All of this, and he’s only Rank E. I can’t even imagine what he’ll become in the future.

***

Luke was explaining to Azazel that he had succeeded.

“I knew that sooner or later you’d find a solution to this problem,” Azazel said. “What do you think, Vaelor? Can he begin constructing the core now?”

“With the materials he has, it’s more than possible,” Vaelor replied. “What I can’t predict is how this will influence his Spectral Beast. I don’t truly understand what that eye actually does.”

“I hope it gives the beast something interesting,” Azazel said.

Luke pulled Sariel’s Eye from his pocket. “What exactly will the beast do with the absorbed part of the ingredient?”

“It will shape itself around the power it claims,” Vaelor answered.

“And the ingredient disappears?”

“Yes. It’s diluted and merged with the core within your soul.”

So I’ll lose this eye forever.

He was holding something immensely powerful, something that now would exist only to feed the beast. Maybe that was how it was meant to be used.

He briefly considered continuing the hunt for the Abyss King. In the end, though, using the Eye as the primary ingredient felt like the better choice.

“Let’s move. We need to start the process soon,” Vaelor said.

Luke stored the eye in his inventory. He stepped away from the forge, and suddenly a sharp burning sensation flared in his hand.

“Shit,” he muttered, staring at it as his skin began to glow. A wound split open, and a drop of blood fell.

Then came the light.

What? What the hell is this?

The glow swallowed the entire room.

“Well, well, well. I’ve finally been summoned to this little meeting,” a voice said.

Something happened. A figure took shape before them.

“Asmodeus?” Azazel asked.

“Hello, Azazel.”

What the hell is going on now?