Becoming the Dark Lord

The village wasn’t just any orc camp. It was military. Tactical. Every detail had been considered: alarm bells, curfews, patrol routes. These orcs were disciplined. Trained.

Luke knew he couldn’t just assassinate them one by one. They’d notice. They’d adapt. The situation would spiral fast. And if reinforcements existed in nearby regions, they’d be called without hesitation.

The orcs were paranoid and organized. When they noticed the fire, they didn’t just send scouts; they sent a full unit. Not to investigate. To hunt. To kill.

Luke and Allison realized it the moment they saw how coordinated the enemy was. That’s why everything had to be resolved in a single night. In one decisive strike. And that’s exactly what was happening.

Right now, they were three. Three against the entire fortified orc camp. An assassin. A swordsman. And a... skeletal warrior.

That village had become a hell of blades and shadows. Allison tore through the ranks of orcs like a storm of steel, his katana slicing clean red arcs through the air. Limbs fell before their owners even realized they were dead. Beside him, the skeletal warrior surged forward, her new longsword gleaming in the dark like a sharpened fang.

CRACK! Her blade split an orc’s face open; the skull snapped back with a sickening crunch. The strangled scream died in his throat.

Allison leapt, a Double Jump. The scent of smoke and blood burned his nostrils. The distant clang of weapons and screams echoed across the battlefield, while cold wind slashed across his face. There was no room for hesitation.

For a moment, he hovered above the orcs, gauging the best position to strike. They had to move fast. Agility and speed were their best defenses.

That’s why he needed to help eliminate the frontline warriors alongside Charlie, while Luke focused on the ranged threats. There were only three of them. If even one suffered a serious wound, the rest would fall to the horde.

SLASH! SLASH! Allison spun mid-air, his katana carving deadly lines into the orcs below. They staggered, confused, and dropped in silence.

Charlie stepped back and then lunged. Her fist lit up as Iron Fist activated, smashing into the snarling face of an oncoming orc.

BAM! The shockwave sent the creature flying, its body slamming into three others like a wrecking ball made of flesh and bone.

Charlie didn’t stop. Her blade flashed into her hand, cutting down the orcs trying to rise again. She blended swordplay with brutal punches; every strike rattled her bones. Of the three, she was the most fragile; a single blow could shatter her. So she played dirty, striking with the sword then surprising them with a punch to finish the job.

For a brief moment, her gaze flicked to Luke. Even in the chaos of battle, she watched him when she could, always worried for his safety.

Meanwhile, Luke moved above them all, a shadow gliding effortlessly across the rooftops. The archers below scrambled for their warning bells, but no reinforcements would arrive in time. He had to be fast.

They’d drawn some of the orcs toward the fire in the forest, but the rest would be arriving any minute now. As he sprinted across the rooftops, Luke’s eyes calculated in an instant what had to be done: take out the orc archers fast.

One orc gasped just as Luke dropped down from above, his black kukri sinking deep into the crown of the orc’s skull. The body crumpled backward, dead fingers twitching around a bell that would never ring.

[You have slain an Orc Scout: Lvl 11]

The problem wasn’t just the orcs’ level; it was their numbers and how well they fought together.

Arrows sliced through the air. Luke rolled aside, narrowly avoiding the first volley. Then, a different sound: a sharp, whistling hiss cut through the night. A glowing arrow streaked toward him.

CRASH! It exploded against the rooftop behind him, sending shards and flames bursting into the sky. The heat scorched his skin, and wooden splinters zipped past his face, dangerously close.

That was way too close!

Luke leapt to another rooftop, kicking an orc archer square in the chest mid-fall. The creature’s body crashed through a barrel below like a sack of meat. Another glowing arrow screamed behind him. He dove flat just as the projectile exploded, blowing a nearby water barrel into splinters.

A damn Magic Archer!

That was dangerous, not just for Charlie and Allison but for him too.

Luke ran.

More arrows rained down as he moved, blurring across the rooftops like a living shadow. An orc lunged into his path, axe raised high.

Luke slid beneath the swing, kukri flashing. The orc’s leg was sliced clean at the thigh. As it fell, he shoved the body forward, right into the path of the incoming arrows.

SQUELCH! SQUELCH! A dozen arrows impaled the orc, turning him into a grotesque pincushion.

Luke grabbed a discarded wooden shield from the ground and raised it just in time. Arrows hammered into it one by one, each impact pounding like a war drum.

Shit!

Splinters flew with every hit. The next one could break through and pin his arm.

Then, that whistle again. He spun aside as the glowing arrow screamed past him, detonating a nearby hut in a fireball of shrapnel and smoke.

Too close again!

His heart pounded. He’d dodged on instinct and thanks to his heightened perception field.

Down below, Allison fought near Charlie. His blade moved faster now, sharper, cutting down an orc trying to flank with eyes burning in fierce resolve. Charlie swung her sword in a savage arc, deflecting a club, then countered with a clean thrust to the gut. The magic archer was already turning his aim toward them.

Luke couldn’t let that happen.

He leapt to another rooftop, moving fast. His kukris flashed, slicing down two archers before they could even nock their arrows.

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

[You have slain an Orc Scout Archer: Lvl 9]

[You have slain an Orc Scout Archer: Lvl 11]

Another jump, another roof. The dangerous archer spotted him, already drawing another glowing arrow aimed directly at Luke.

For a moment, Luke froze. He was rushing straight toward a marksman who had him in his sights. But if the orc had a ranged weapon, so did he.

The kukri whistled through the air, a perfect throw. But the orc smirked, leaning aside at the last second. The blade grazed him and missed.

Luke dove, dodging left, but then—

SHUNK! The orc’s eyes bulged as a sharp pain shot through his back. The kukri had returned, pulled back by Magnetic Return, and embedded itself deep in his spine.

The orc staggered, grunting. He blinked—

Basic Dark Dash.

Luke materialized right in front of him, in the middle of the strike.

SPLURT! The kukri sliced through flesh and bone. The orc’s head hit the rooftop a moment before his knees buckled.

[You have slain an Orc Scout Archer: Lvl 12]

Rising to his feet, Luke spotted two archers taking aim. With a precise motion of his kukris, he deflected both arrows mid-air, then lunged forward. One kukri spun through the air toward the second archer while Luke charged the first.

SLASH! The blade cut wide, but the orc dodged, grinning as he reached for another arrow, until he froze.

The bowstring had been severed.

Luke tilted his head, a faint smirk curling his lips. “Not on my watch.”

Moving with lethal precision, two black kukris, one heartbeat, the orc’s world went dark.

[You have slain an Orc Scout Archer: Lvl 10]

But there was no time to breathe. The second orc charged, roaring with rage. Luke rolled to the side just in time to see a flash of steel. A hand axe came flying toward him.

CLANG! The impact rattled his guard, throwing him off balance. And then...

CRASH! The orc tackled him straight off the rooftop.

Luke fell. The hit slammed into his back, and he crashed through the lower rooftop, slamming into the floor of a house below. Pain flared through every muscle as he rolled across the ground, breath ragged in his ears. The taste of blood filled his mouth, but he couldn’t show weakness.

Instinct kicked in. He rolled and rose, aching, breathless, bleeding. But the orc dropped in after him, relentless.

BAAM! A massive fist crashed into Luke’s jaw. Pain exploded through his face. He heard the snap of bone, his own. His vision blurred for a heartbeat, flashes of white, his brain rattled from the impact.

Desperate, he lashed out with a kick, knocking the orc back, but it wasn’t enough. Too late. Two more orcs burst through the ruined wall, a trap. Luke realized he was surrounded. He turned to escape, but

WHAM! A punch slammed into his back.

CRACK! An elbow smashed into his temple. He stumbled, vision spinning. Blood dripped from his lip.

THUNK! A rock struck his shoulder from behind. He turned just in time to see another orc tackle him and hurl him across the room.

He slammed into the wall hard. The impact knocked the air from his lungs. Tight space. No exit in sight. Four orcs closing in fast.

“This is bad.”

Then he saw it. One of the orcs pulling back the string of a bow, aiming straight for him. The others held him in place to guarantee the shot.

He knew the danger. He tried to move, but another orc grabbed him and punched him in the back.

Desperate, Luke ducked just as an arrow screamed past his face. His heart nearly burst. If he’d moved a second slower, it would’ve pierced his skull.

No time to recover. Another axe came flying at him. He dove to the side, evading the orcs, only to land into a brutal uppercut. His teeth rattled. His head spun. But he didn’t fall. He didn’t run.

Instead, he gripped his kukris tighter. He focused. Calm. Cold. Not because he wasn’t afraid of the orcs. He was afraid of dying. And if he gave in to that fear, he would.

He had to turn the fight.

The first orc charged, swinging his axe in a wide arc. Dark Dash. Luke vanished and reappeared behind him, his kukris stabbing deep into the orc’s skull. The body twitched and dropped.

[You have slain an Orc Scout: Lvl 10]

He’d taken one down. Spitting blood onto the floor, Luke locked eyes with the remaining enemies. An orc archer raised his bow, but too late. One kukri pierced his shoulder; the second buried itself into his skull.

A third orc roared and slammed Luke against the wall, unleashing a barrage of fists:

BAAM. BAAM. BAAM!

Blood exploded from Luke’s nose. His vision blurred. Each punch felt like it was caving his skull in. He was almost certain one of his eyes had collapsed into its own socket.

He tried to recover, but the orc didn’t let up, pounding him relentlessly. Consciousness began to slip. Then, the archer with the blade in his skull dropped.

And the system responded.

[You have slain an Orc Scout Archer: Lvl 11]

*Your class [Demonic Assassin] has reached Level 9!*

*Demonic Assassin has granted bonus attribute points: +5 Perception, +4 Strength, +4 Agility, +3 Vitality, +2 Intelligence, +3 Free Points*

Power surged through Luke’s body like a live current. The pain vanished. A wave of heat and strength flooded his muscles, like an invisible flame igniting from within. The world sharpened. His senses expanded. But more than that, he felt it: the full weight of the level-up pulsing through him.

It was the first time he had leveled up as a Demonic Assassin, and the difference was staggering. His entire body felt honed, stronger, faster, sharper. The flood of raw stats filled him, every muscle vibrating with renewed force.

And then, another punch hit his face. But this time the pain didn’t come, not like before. Luke didn’t flinch. He smiled.

The orc froze, its fist still pressed against the human’s cheek, confused at the grin it now saw. Luke raised a single hand, just one, and caught the next punch mid-air. Stopped it cold.

The room went still. Even the air seemed to hold its breath. The orc tried to pull its arm back. It didn’t budge. Luke’s eyes burned, twin shards of steel in the dark.

“My turn.”

CRACK! The orc’s arm snapped like a twig. It howled in pain, just as another orc rushed in, swinging a hand axe at Luke’s neck.

He ducked, the blade grazing just over his head. A second later, an arrow zipped toward him. Without hesitation, Luke yanked the screaming orc in front of him, using the creature like a living shield.

THUNK! The arrow buried itself in the orc’s chest. Luke didn’t stop. He hurled the bleeding body forward, smashing it into the archer like a sack of meat.

Then he moved. Kukris flew from his hands in a deadly rhythm. Slash. Duplicate. Return. Repeat. Orcs dropped like cattle, staggering, gasping, blood spurting from deep wounds they never saw coming.

One orc charged him from the side. Luke turned just in time.

SWISH! A kukri flashed. A severed hand hit the ground with a wet slap.

The orc screamed and stumbled back, but too late. Luke drove a boot into its chest, kicking it straight through the wall. He leapt after it.

WHAM! His knees crashed into the orc’s torso with explosive force, and a kukri rammed straight through its heart.

No hesitation. No mercy.

[You have slain an Orc Scout Archer: Lvl 11]

Rising slowly, Luke swept his gaze across the battlefield, moving like a predator among corpses. Then he saw her. Charlie was locked in combat with one orc, completely unaware of the second one closing in behind her.

Luke couldn’t let that happen. He moved like lightning. The second orc barely had time to open his mouth.

SLASH! His throat split open, spraying a crimson fountain.

[You have slain an Orc Scout: Lvl 10]

Charlie turned just as the body hit the ground, catching only a glimpse of Luke already vanishing into motion, his focus locked on the next kill.

Another orc charged at him, roaring, a massive axe raised high. Luke met the beast head-on, his movements razor-sharp, refined by his newly acquired agility. The clash became a deadly dance of steel and fury. Each kukri strike cut deeper. Each dodge, more precise.

Luke felt it, the difference in his body. The speed. The reaction time. Sharper. Faster. Those five points in Perception had mattered more than he expected.

The orc lunged, Luke ducked low, and from above came the final blow.

SHUNK! A longsword drove through the orc’s skull. The body stiffened, then collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut.

Luke turned. “Thanks, Charlie.”

The skeletal warrior gave a short nod before diving back into the fray. Luke smiled and bolted forward, speed surging through his limbs.

In one fluid motion, he vaulted onto a barrel, barely touched the top, and leapt onto the roof of a nearby hut. He needed eyes on the entire village.

Below, an orc archer scrambled to grab a bow beside a fallen comrade. Luke didn’t hesitate.

SWISH! A kukri pierced the orc’s chest. The creature gasped, and before it even hit the ground, another blade followed.

SHNK! Right through the throat.

[You have slain an Orc Scout: Lvl 10]

Another corpse added to the pile.

But then, something shifted. A presence. Something had arrived. And it was going to be a problem.