Becoming the Dark Lord

A meeting was underway in one of the private chambers of the second fortress. Only Haven’s leaders were present—and Luke. The table was cluttered with hand-drawn maps, and the voices around it carried more heat than patience.

“I think we should focus on this. Forget rebuilding houses and patching up the fortress. What we need is lumber,” Quinn argued.

“Are you insane?” Miranda shot back. “You want to bring children here, let them live in rubble, surrounded by monster corpses, with beasts still roaming nearby? No. First priority is turning this into a safe place to live.”

Luke exhaled sharply through his nose, tired already of their endless bickering. His arms rested on the chair’s worn armrests, fingers tapping a restless rhythm as if searching for an anchor.

“Isn’t a Safe Zone supposed to be safe enough?” Eugene asked.

Miranda’s eyes narrowed. “No. The rule is that Midnight Wardens won’t cross into it. That doesn’t stop a panther from wandering in at night, or a crocodile from lunging at women washing clothes, or—hell—someone getting a visit from a dinosaur while eating breakfast.”

Byron tapped the map with force, the echo of his knuckles against the wood sharp in the chamber. The parchment shifted, smudging faint lines of charcoal that traced the fortress streets. “These houses won’t survive a strong breeze. Reinforcing the homes, clearing the streets, setting up routines—that’s security.”

Gilbert leaned forward, voice low. “Time isn’t on our side.”

“Enough,” Allison cut in at last, her tone sharp enough to slice through the noise.

She let the silence hang before speaking again. “I know all of you are desperate to get back to Earth as fast as possible. But there are other factors more important than your impatience.”

Across the room, Evangeline sat slouched in a chair, one arm bandaged, the other hand holding a half-eaten sandwich. She didn’t even bother looking up.

“What?” she said flatly when everyone turned her way. “I’m starving.”

Allison ignored it and pressed on. “The next step is bringing as many people here as we can. Support those without a profession, help others level up. Organize hunting parties to boost combat experience. With enough healing potions, we can give them security.”

Mason nodded. “We also need lumber for boats. Magi and archers can help take down the river crocodiles. Lightning magic will be the key.”

Miranda opened her mouth to argue, but Allison raised a hand and stopped her cold. “I understand your concerns. But we’re not fifty starving castaways in a forest anymore. My focus is to fill this fortress with people. Once they’re here, we’ll organize by talent, let them gravitate toward what they’re good at. Why waste time fussing over structures or safety measures right now when we can divide labor later? The priority is growth—profession levels, class levels. Bring them here first. The rest will follow.”

Evangeline finally set her sandwich aside and stepped closer to the table. Her voice was calm, but the words carried weight. “We’ve got a bigger problem. It’s already six in the morning. Has that scouting party returned?”

Mason shook his head. “Not yet.”

“Then everything hangs on what they bring back,” she said, meeting each of their eyes. “That information will decide whether we’re going to war with Bartholomew today… or tomorrow.”

The dilemma sat heavy in the room. Activating the second mechanism had broadcast a notification across the area—every soul within range of the new Safe Zone would know. The real question was whether those outside the zone had seen it too.

If that was the case, then Bartholomew already knew the second mechanism had been activated. Which meant it was only a matter of hours before he showed up with his elite soldiers and tried to seize the fortress by force. They all knew they couldn’t withstand him if it came to that. That was why they needed to bring in as many people as possible, not just Haven, but civilians from the first Safe Zone as well. If they did, then either Bartholomew would have to soften his stance, or his mask would finally crack and everyone, including his own troops, would see he had no real interest in completing the tutorial.

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“I’m betting if that happened, all of us here will end up branded criminals because of him,” Quinn muttered, pointing straight at Luke. “You know… that whole insane ‘terrorist’ angle?”

“The lunatics show up here, butcher us all, and the official story becomes that brave Bartholomew saved everyone, secured another fortress, and ascended as the strongest by wiping out his rivals,” Evangeline said flatly.

Her gaze hardened. “That’s exactly what he did with Marshall. And then only he remains.”

She leaned back, voice cold. “Every major opponent who’s been plotting under his nose is gathered here, weak after a brutal battle, and easy to finish off.”

The meeting circled in frustration, going nowhere. Everything hinged on a single piece of information: whether the other Safe Zone had received the notification or not. Without that, they were stuck.

While the arguments dragged on, Allison quietly slipped out. The others soon followed, making their way toward the treasure chamber. That was another dilemma they had yet to face. When they entered the vault, the massive chest waited in the center. They lifted the lid, and inside were hundreds of skill runes. The deeper they sifted through, the more endless the pile seemed.

“What is this, a thousand of them?” Mason asked.

“Probably more,” Allison replied.

It was a staggering hoard, but Luke could tell right away this wasn’t meant for them. He picked one up, feeling the etching pulse faintly in his palm.

“Completely useless for us,” Evangeline noted. “I already have a skill that does the same thing under a different name. Can’t even absorb this one.”

Every single rune held the same skill: Force Infusion.

“It’s designed for anyone who learns to wield stamina as a weapon,” Mason explained. “But it isn’t easy. Takes advanced control, and normally you only get it through class progression… usually by killing.”

“So the civilians in the Safe Zone wouldn’t have it,” Allison said.

“Some of Bastion’s soldiers probably don’t either,” Evangeline added.

Luke realized she was right. He’d seen people who didn’t even know it was possible to strip away a skill’s mark, something he’d figured out after studying mana deeply. If Bartholomew hadn’t even spread simpler tricks, there was no chance he was handing out advanced techniques like weaponized stamina or mana.

“They’re weapons,” Luke murmured, his mind racing. “The fortress gave us weapons. Something far more valuable than a sword or shield.”

“You all saw the notification about the final war,” Allison reminded them. “That’s what this is. The runes are meant to give survivors an edge when it comes.”

Mason nodded slowly. “That makes sense. With these, we could take some ordinary civilian, teach them Force Infusion, and suddenly they’ve got the power to swing a sword or hold a shield with real force.”

Evangeline lifted one of the runes, turning it over in her hand. “Anyone from any class could use this. An archer, a healer, even someone who never leveled their class because they were too afraid of dying.”

For most people, this would be nothing short of a treasure.

“Is it possible to stack multiple rune skills?” Luke asked, curious.

“No,” Mason answered. “There’s a limit. And compatibility matters too. I can’t absorb a skill from a mage class.”

That detail lodged itself in Luke’s mind. It meant he might never have been able to claim the orc general’s rune himself—but Charlie had been perfectly compatible.

“We can’t let anyone else see this chest,” Evangeline said sharply. “Not even the ones fighting at our side. Not yet.”

“If word spreads, it’s dangerous,” Allison agreed.

The truth was simple: these runes were keys. They could give anyone real power, provided they learned how to channel stamina properly.

“So what’s the plan?” Mason asked. “Do we split them up into our storage? Because if we hand these out, we’re talking about creating an army.”

Allison’s expression tightened. “We’ll distribute them, yes—but only to those we trust. Not now. We wait for our soldier to return from Haven first, because everything hinges on whether Bartholomew already knows we triggered the second mechanism. Time isn’t on our side.”

Mason closed the chest and looked around the circle. “Right now, the ones with the highest levels and the best gear hold the advantage. How many levels did you gain? Any new skills awaken? Are you close to hitting the peak of your rank?”

Allison went first, displaying her rewards. She’d received a pair of boots and a breastplate from the Midnight Wardens—lighter, tailored to a swordswoman, not the heavy brute force Charlie wore. vangeline had earned a hooded cloak, dark and suited to her ninja style. Mason revealed a cape and a pair of gloves.

Then all eyes turned toward Luke.

“This is what the system dropped when the Midnight Warden Captain died,” he said, pulling the item from his inventory.