Becoming the Dark Lord

“Tell me something,” Luke said. “Why does that mark never disappear?”

Artemis touched her own forehead. “Oh, this?”

For the first time that day, Artemis didn’t tease him.

She went back to sipping her drink, still smiling.

“Because I’m a slave, Luke.”

She took another sip, bright and careless as ever. “This is really good. Try it.”

“Wait. What do you mean, slave?”

“Hey, golden rule: never ask about a girl’s tragic backstory.” She pointed her fork at him. “Now open up. Your Goddess wants to feed you.”

“If I eat that, are you going to tell me why you have that symbol?”

“You are a very naughty boy,” she said, pouting. “But yes, fine.”

Luke accepted the bite from her fork.

“I’m not exactly a slave the way your world understands it, Luke. I’m closer to someone who got kidnapped. A prisoner with Privileges, let’s say. This symbol means that no matter where I go, I’m still property.”

She offered him another bite and stopped talking. Luke got the message and ate again.

“But relax. It was a long time ago. I think it even makes me prettier, right here on my forehead.”

Artemis held out the fork again. When Luke leaned in, she turned the utensil around and put the food into her own mouth.

“My turn,” she said, making a satisfied little sound. “I could’ve stolen a kiss just now, but I didn’t. See? I behaved.”

“So how does this whole prisoner thing work?”

“I’m almost never allowed to leave that planet where you saw me last time. So when I do get out, I like to party.”

“So that’s why you dragged me bar-hopping through all those taverns?”

“Exactly, dude!”

Luke stared at the golden mark again. It looked less like decoration now. Seeing Artemis like this felt wrong. She was chaotic, spoiled, invasive, and absurdly powerful. The kind of person who made every room feel like it belonged to her. And she was trapped.

“That’s messed up. You’re a Goddess. And you’re a slave.”

Artemis smiled like the answer should have been obvious. “That’s because I’m a VIP hostage-prisoner of a being way above ordinary gods, dude. Gods have levels too, just like you mortals. You don’t just hit Rank S and call it a day. It keeps going.”

She waved her fork like she was listing chores. “Kill divinity-type beings, build churches, gather believers, create Paths in the system, all that boring stuff. It’s exhausting.”

“Yeah, but...” Luke couldn’t stop himself. “You’re a slave.”

“Don’t be sad about it, Luke. Even though it’s cute that you are.” Artemis smiled, but this time her voice dipped lower. “Slavery is everywhere in the multiverse, dude.”

Luke felt uneasy at how casually she said it.

“And if you’re a Conqueror God, having slaves who become gods is just daily life. You need strong soldiers, servants, advisers. But like I said, I’m super VIP. I get Privileges. I’m not cannon fodder dying in the first second of battle. I’m court property.”

Luke and Artemis kept eating while she pointed out important figures around the restaurant, explaining them as casually as if she were reading off the menu.

“There. That’s the arena guy from earlier,” she whispered. “His name is Drak’Thar Glok. He’s one of the Grays. Frontline general in the army of the Court of the Sand Lords. They conquer planets and enslave entire peoples. Purists. They believe humanoid races should rule everything.”

Luke glanced the other way. “That guy approached me.”

“The snail? The one who looks like the guy from Star Wars?”

“That one.”

“Jabba over there? He’s from a mafia Pantheon. They run smuggling routes between small nations and forgotten planets. Weapons too, from swords to magic scrolls. When a bigger kingdom takes over a planet and starts putting embargoes on the smaller kingdoms, people like him show up. Food, drinks, drugs, illegal ore, whatever people are desperate for. Drak’Thar makes the war. Jabba profits from the mess afterward.”

She took a sip of her drink and gave him a sideways smile. “You’ll need to understand this kind of thing when you build your kingdom. But relax. Now you’ve got a goddess to consult.”

Before Luke could answer, someone approached their table.

“Participant 666?”

“That’s me.”

It was a sea-green humanoid. He looked nervous, but respectful.

“I saw your fight in the event. The final one, I mean.”

“Thanks, but I didn’t do much at the end. The whale deserves a chunk of the credit.”

“You won, and that’s what matters. May the winds of victory bring you even more luck in the New Era.”

The man gave a quick bow and left. He was the sixth fan Luke had met that day.

“New Era, huh...”

“Yep,” Artemis said around her milkshake straw. “Now gods are going to start appearing in your universe.”

She smiled around the straw.

“Lucky you.”

A little later, another figure entered the restaurant. A man in a black mask sat alone. His identification read: Participant 1238.

Luke recognized the number. The last winner.

“Also known as the Reaper King,” Artemis said, taking another bite.

“Reaper King? The guy who rules the Reaper Court?”

“That’s him. One of the World Kings. Not officially one of the Eight, but everyone knows he’s the ninth. The guy who runs the criminal underworld.”

With everything that had happened over the last few days, Luke had almost forgotten the World Kings might be in the hotel too.

“You’ll only find him here, Luke. The others already lost to him.”

“He killed the others?”

“No. The World Kings’ Stage 3 was boring as hell. When they moved the event up, they made a deal. They needed all nine World King votes to move it up, so they gave him the Stage 3 win.”

“Got it. They gave up the Stage 3 reward, but now the New Era is here.”

“Now they can level up without the block. Given enough time, and assuming they survive, they might become gods. Although that road is very, very long.”

Luke dropped the subject when he noticed something on one of the large screens scattered throughout the restaurant.

“Does this place have internet or something? I need to check how my mom’s fight went.”

“It doesn’t, dude. Do you think every universe has some giant internet network? That’s not a thing.”

“My universe was primitive to you, but you guys don’t even have basic Google or social media.”

“That’s outdated nonsense from your world. It’s full of security holes. People steal information through hacking all the time. Not to mention, you’d need a ridiculous infrastructure just to cover one universe, never mind the multiverse. Video calls between galaxies are Star Wars stuff, dude.”

“So how do you communicate?”

“Magic, dude. Magic artifacts, message-sending skills, and other magical structures I’m not allowed to explain. Remember the Kardashev scale?”

“That thing for measuring how advanced a civilization is? I think I saw something about it at school.”

“Imagine that, but for magical technology. Except you’re all still pretty primitive. Your entire population just got the system, and your universe doesn’t even have a god yet. It’s going to be a really annoying Era while everyone gets things organized. Oh, and of course, there’ll be a whole lot of war before the main factions start making agreements and that kind of thing.”

“Kardashev scale...” Luke narrowed his eyes. “Damn it, that was actually a smart example, Artemis.”

“I’m not your Advisor for nothing, honey.” She set her empty glass on the table and smiled in a dangerous way. “By the way, after all those milkshakes, my tongue is numb. Think you could wake it up with yours?”

Luke pushed her back by the forehead before she could get any closer.

“I need to find my mother in the hotel in case she skips the auction. I also need to map out possible escape routes for her after the party. But this place is bigger than a city. At least the other winners and I are limited to specific areas.”

“I’ll help you find her.”

Luke looked at her. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. You think I wouldn’t help? I’m your Advisor.”

“Thanks, Artemis.”

“Besides...” She lifted her chin, pleased with herself. “She’s my mother-in-law, after all.”

“No. She isn’t.”

“Correction: she will be.” Artemis cleared her throat. “And just so you know, the only place you can’t check is...”

“Her room?”

“Exactly.”

***

By the time Luke finished adjusting his suit, the Masquerade Ball felt less like a party and more like a countdown. He was ready first, so he dropped onto the sofa in the suite’s living room and waited for Artemis to finish, every quiet second making the ball feel closer. The funny part was that she could have snapped her fingers and appeared fully dressed, flawless, divine powers and all, in less time than it took Luke to blink. But no. Artemis had said she wanted to get ready for real. Pick the dress. Fix her hair. Do her own makeup.

Luke stared at the ceiling for a few seconds and came to a simple conclusion: Mortal or goddess, women were still women.

While he waited, he opened the system interface and selected one of his titles.

[Myth Slayer]: Even legends can die. You encountered a mythological being and killed it. Some say myths aren’t real. You proved otherwise and reduced one to just another story. Your blade has also tasted the blood of certain... younger mythological beings, proving that age means nothing once you mark something as prey. Grants +9% to all attributes and the skill [Myth Sensor (Ancient)].

Title Path: [Apex Myth Slayer]

Luke stared at the description for a few seconds.

All that from the [Champion of Earth] reward... who would’ve thought winning Sunken Realms could turn a regular title into a [Title of Power]?

Title slots were limited, and he had already noticed something important: he could no longer remove [Dark Lord] or [Champion of Earth], since he had claimed their rewards. Once he accepted a reward, the title became locked.

Lesson learned. If I claim one of [Myth Slayer]’s mission rewards, I’ll never be able to remove the title again.

Even so, part of him already knew he might never be able to leave those missions unfinished.

Luke selected the title path, and new information appeared before his eyes.

[Apex Myth Slayer]: Killing a myth once could be called luck. Killing a weak myth could be called opportunity. But killing myths at the peak of their ranks was something else entirely. This path is reserved for those who do not fear ancient bloodlines, divine beasts, forgotten monsters, or legends made flesh. To walk this path, you must prove that no myth is safe from you. Not the ancient. Not the powerful. Not the revered. A true Apex Myth Slayer does not merely kill monsters. He ends stories.

[Stigma of the Myth Slayer]: Perhaps this is the simplest mission. Perhaps it is the most dangerous. That depends on the Myth Slayer you choose. Know this: someone who earned this title was never meant to be easy prey. Hunt another Myth Slayer and prove your legend cuts deeper than theirs.

Reward: [Mythic Stigmata]

[Stigma of the Rank D Myth]: The bearer must kill a Rank D Myth at the peak of its rank.

Reward: Requires [Mythic Stigmata]

[Stigma of the Rank C Myth]: The bearer must kill a Rank C Myth at the peak of its rank.

Reward: Requires [Mythic Stigmata]

[Stigma of the Rank B Myth]: The bearer must kill a Rank B Myth at the peak of its rank.

Reward: Requires [Mythic Stigmata]

[Stigma of the Rank A Myth]: The bearer must kill a Rank A Myth at the peak of its rank.

Reward: Requires [Mythic Stigmata]

[Stigma of the Rank S Myth]: The bearer must kill a Rank S Myth at the peak of its rank.

Reward: Requires [Mythic Stigmata]

[Stigma of the Rank SS Myth]: The bearer must kill a Rank SS Myth at the peak of its rank.

Reward: Requires [Mythic Stigmata]

Luke narrowed his eyes.

Rank SS. That’s insane.

When he asked Artemis, she could answer because, officially, she was his goddess. A god was a Rank S being, a threshold reached at level 1000. But reaching that height didn’t mean the climb ended there. The system didn’t stop there. There were more levels. More steps. More absurdities waiting above. And Rank SS was one of them.

A tier above gods.

From what she had explained, Artemis herself was Rank S. Even she hadn’t reached it. Maybe there was something even higher, but Artemis had refused to explain. She had only said it was still too early for Luke to learn certain things. She hadn’t even told him what Rank SS beings were called.

Which, of course, only made it worse. And more interesting.

So I need a myth-type creature from each rank. Not just any myth, either. One sitting at the very top of its tier.

For the Rank D mission, the target was probably around level 199 or 200.

Right now, killing something at that level is impossible. Surviving it would already be a miracle. And it wouldn’t just be a strong enemy. It would be a myth, a creature naturally superior to others at the same level. Absolute madness.

Maybe one day he could complete the second mission. But the first was different. The first didn’t feel impossible.

When Artemis finally did, she came in slowly, clearly waiting for a reaction.

“So? How do I look?”

Artemis wore an elegant blue dress with a slit along one side, showing off one leg without losing the wild, royal air that suited her so damn well. Her classic crown of leaves rested on her head, and even behind a mask, her presence seemed to fill the room before her voice did.

Luke looked at her one second too long. “You look... okay.”

“Okay? That’s it?”

“Well dressed.”

“Am I beautiful?”

He coughed. “The dress suits you.”

“Luke, you can’t lie to me or hide what you feel anymore. Our bond is special.”

“Are we going downstairs or not?” he asked, trying to change the subject.

“By the way, honey.” Artemis stepped closer and began fixing his bow tie. “You’re going to have to build me a temple back on your planet. Standard divine church rules. It’ll also improve our connection. I’m a poor little goddess with no followers, so contacting you directly is going to be very expensive, and my sad little salary doesn’t cover that. I need the discounts I get from having a temple in your world.”

“Don’t I already talk to you through the necklace?”

“The thing you talk to through the necklace isn’t live, adorable me. It doesn’t have full access to my knowledge either, and it doesn’t count as the real me. I am your Goddess, and as my Apostle, you obviously need something of mine there to worship properly. Don’t worry, I’ll settle for a statue in your room.”

“Absolutely not.”

“It can be a statue that holds your necklace.”

“I’ll think of something.”

The two of them went down to the Masquerade Ball, taking place in a section of the hotel reserved for Event Participants and their Advisors. A red carpet led the guests into the ballroom. The moment Luke and Artemis entered, it felt like all the air left the room.

Everyone looked their way. No. At Artemis. Even behind a mask, Artemis was impossible to miss.

“Who is... she?” someone whispered.

“She’s gorgeous.” Even some of the divine Advisors were watching her with interest.

“So what do we do now?” Luke whispered.

Artemis linked her arm through his.

“Now, my dear Luke, you stay nice and close while we parade around like a perfect little couple.”

“What? Why?”

“Because everyone is looking. You can study their reactions better. And if one woman looks away while everyone else is staring, that would be pretty strange, wouldn’t it?”

Luke understood immediately. It was the perfect chance to figure out which masked woman might be Elizabeth Moon.

“Not bad, Artemis,” he whispered.

“That’s right. Now press a little closer.”

Together, they walked through the ballroom. Now all Luke had to do was find the one person trying not to stare. In a room full of masks, monsters, and gods.