Becoming the Dark Lord

The explosion shattered the barrier like glass under pressure, spraying fragments of shimmering energy into the air. The sound rolled through the trees, followed by a wave of heat and grit that slammed into the group. Luke caught a glimpse of Ronan activating his epic skill. Skin hardening into metal, joints glinting with a heavy sheen as a massive shield materialized from his inventory. He planted himself in front of everyone, arms braced, a living bastion of steel.

Beside Luke, a black mist poured out and took shape. Charlie emerged from his soul, raising a spectral barrier that flickered like liquid glass. Smoke from the bomb was already choking the clearing, turning everything gray and suffocating.

Crouched behind a boulder, Eleanor fired arrow after arrow, muscles taut from repetition.

“They’re here!” Evangeline’s voice was nearly swallowed by the chaos as she fell back with the others.

The shadows at the edge of his vision twisted. Hooded figures, shadow assassins, slipped out of the treeline and lunged. One came straight for Jack, who threw up a mana shield just in time. The blade sparked and skittered off the barrier.

Princess Charlie moved fast, slamming her fist into the assassin and sending him tumbling backward.

“Protect Jack!” Luke’s command cut through the din.

Ronan absorbed most of the incoming strikes, his metallic body denting under the relentless hits. Luke knew the cost. Without Jack’s support, the epic skill would drain his HP dry.

More enemies emerged behind them. Luke counted five rising from a camouflaged hatch in the ground, their movements honed and silent. Allison charged to intercept. Mason blurred forward in a low dash, blade skimming the earth. A clean strike took an enemy’s leg, a pivoting follow-through finished the job.

“They really… set the trap,” Mason muttered as blood streaked the leaves.

The sound of bowstrings tightening echoed around them. Soldiers with longbows and crossbows stepped from between the trees, firing nonstop, while mages lined the back ranks. A rain of projectiles and spells threatened to crush them.

Mason’s eyes lit with an unsettling gleam.

“Now, Jack!” Eleanor fired an arrow high into the air that burst into a blinding flash.

They hadn’t walked into the lion’s mouth without a plan. They’d known the risks, calculated every move. Jack drew a deep breath, light pulsing from his body. At the tip of his wand, a yellow spark blossomed into a halo. He chanted, and around them rose a radiant golden dome. Not only did it absorb incoming strikes, it radiated a healing aura, one HP per second to every ally within range, a margin that could decide survival.

Outside the dome, Luke watched Mason break into a sprint. In the same instant, Mason unleashed the rank skill he had earned at the peak of Rank F. The power was called Featherweight. His body seemed to shed its weight, each stride gaining more speed and lift. In one smooth motion he bent his knees and leapt, rising about ten meters. Luke tracked him with his eyes as Mason cut through the smoke and flashes of spells, hanging for a moment above it all, distant from the fight. The air around him seemed to vibrate, as if the battle below were moving in slow motion.

At the apex, he triggered his epic profession skill. His hands darkened to coal, amplifying the speed and force of his fire spells. He aimed down. Instead of a single shot, he unleashed a rapid-fire barrage of Fireballs, basic in form, catastrophic in execution.

Explosions ripped through the forest like rolling thunder, tearing gaps in the enemy advance. The golden dome below wasn’t just a shield; it kept their own ally’s firestorms from roasting them alive.

Inside, Ronan dropped his epic skill long enough to chug a healing potion.

“I told you it was a trap, didn’t I?” Luke muttered, eyes following each eruption.

“I didn’t want to believe they’d betray me,” Ronan answered, frustration heavy in his voice.

“Yeah. Now you know what it feels like to get hit in this place,” Luke shot back, remembering the first time they’d faced off.

Fire detonations flared across the clearing, turning night into daylight.

“Drop the barrier!” Allison’s voice cut through the chaos, tight with urgency.

Jack had already held the spell far beyond its planned limit. Every sliver of his mana would be needed for healing and another defense if things went south.

The golden dome flashed one last time before shattering into sparks, freeing the group to move. They scattered to preassigned positions like chess pieces sliding into place on a board they knew by heart. Mason landed hard, his blacksmith skill draining his stamina. Princess Charlie reacted instantly, conjuring a spectral chain that looped around his waist and yanked him backward while she raised her round shield, deflecting a hail of arrows to protect Jack. They retreated behind a fallen trunk and a tangle of exposed roots.

Though it had lasted only seconds, Mason’s attack had been devastating. The ground ahead was scorched black, littered with corpses, snapped arrows, and shattered spell shards. The enemy’s advantage had gone up in flames. Overhead, Jerry glided silent as a shadow. Luke maintained the link, tracking enemy movements in real time. Between the trees, figures pulled back, regrouping for their next strike. It was time for the second phase of the plan.

With his bow in hand, Luke raised his palm. The air around it warped as blood seeped from his pores, not pure red but a swirl of deep black and sharp crimson. Plant magic threaded through it, solidifying into living wood. From that fusion rose the Acid Blood Arrow, thick and pulsing, veins of green flickering along its shaft.

[Mana Points (MP): 3809/5100]

[Mana Points (MP)::1000]

[Mana Points (MP): 2809/5100]

Through Jerry’s eyes, Luke spotted the survivors of Mason’s attack clustered behind logs and stones. He raised his bow, drew the string tight, and with a sharp snap loosed the Acid Blood Arrow high. The arrow arced over the treetops and vanished into the canopy before detonating on target.

The impact flashed in a muffled burst. First came a dense jet of green vapor, then it spread like a living tide, tinged at the edges with a sickly yellow. The air rippled with heat and acid. Leaves curled and dissolved; bark peeled away like wet paper. In seconds the corrosive shroud had swallowed everything ahead.

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The screams followed. Sharp, ragged sounds of people choking for breath and gagging. Silhouettes staggered out of the haze, stumbling and collapsing; others dropped to their knees as skin burned, eyes stung, and blood poured from their mouths while the acid ate through armor, leather, and flesh alike. Some thrashed on the ground, clawing at their own faces to scrape off the substance. Arrows, swords, and banners slipped from weakening hands and disappeared into the corrosive carpet.

Luke watched it all through Jerry without flinching. Inwardly, he thanked Bartholomew for the gift, the chance to finish anyone who might threaten him later.

The acid cloud ruled the clearing like a poisoned storm, rising in columns that blotted out the sky. The smell was suffocating, a mix of rotting leaves and melting flesh. Then the notifications began to roll in, one after another:

[You have slain a Human...]

[You have acquired +1 Soul Fragment]

[You have slain a Human...]

[You have acquired +1 Soul Fragment]

[You have slain a Human...]

[You have acquired +1 Soul Fragment]

[You have slain a Human...]

[You have acquired +1 Soul Fragment]

[You have slain a Human...]

[You have acquired +1 Soul Fragment]

[You have slain a Human...]

[You have acquired +1 Soul Fragment]

[You have slain a Human...]

[You have acquired +1 Soul Fragment]

[You have slain a Human...]

[You have acquired +1 Soul Fragment]

[You have slain a Human...]

[You have acquired +1 Soul Fragment]

[You have slain a Human...]

[You have acquired +1 Soul Fragment]

[You have slain a Human...]

[You have acquired +1 Soul Fragment]

[You have slain a Human...]

[You have acquired +1 Soul Fragment]

[You have slain a Human...]

[You have acquired +1 Soul Fragment]

They kept coming, hammering at Luke’s vision in a relentless stream. He quickened his pace, pulling away from the others. Isolation was safer, assassins never wasted an opening like this. Breaking his link with Jerry, Luke focused on the ground ahead. The forest was saturated with smoke, shadows, and corpses. The metallic tang of blood mixed with acid fumes and the bitter stench of scorched wood.

Then a smoke bomb landed directly in his path. The capsule’s pop came first, then the rising curtain of gray, dense and suffocating. A silhouette lunged out of the haze, blade flashing in hand. Luke dove to the ground, rolling clear of the strike. Smoke swallowed him whole; at the edge of his vision, more figures emerged. Five assassins, maybe more, moving like living shadows. Among them, someone he recognized instantly.

Eric.

He advanced with cold precision, black spheres glinting in his hands, smoke bombs, Luke guessed. But it was Eric’s face that stopped him: half of it was raw flesh, eaten away by the acid arrow. Rage and pain twisted his expression into something feral.

“You really are the problem child of the group. Just like the reports said.” Eric’s voice came out rough, soaked in hate.

The assassins formed a loose semicircle around Luke.

“This time nobody’s holding back,” one of them said, voice cool and calculating. “Stay close and you can’t use your acid cloud without killing yourself too.”

They spread out, already adapted to Luke’s fighting style, ready to counter every move. Even Eric’s presence felt calculated, smoke to neutralize the black mist, ambush to blind him.

Luke stared them down. For a heartbeat, he saw them flinch, half a step back, instinctive. He lifted his chin.

“I’m done holding back too.”

He surged forward in a blur, the ground cracking under his launch. In the next heartbeat he unleashed his epic class skill. Heat roared through him as black blood burst from the pores of his palms like living tar, crawling up his forearms and coating his skin. The liquid pulsed and hardened into clawed shapes, acid-veined lines glowing beneath the slick surface as if alive. His bow dissolved into his inventory with a violent flash of light.

The first assassin moved fast, dagger flashing up to parry. Luke caught the blade in his left, the acid hissing where it touched steel, and drove his right clawed hand onto the hooded face. Mask and flesh buckled under his grip. The scream was swallowed by the smoke, the stench of scorched flesh filling the air.

He squeezed harder. The skull gave way, bone cracking under the pressure. A dry, splintering sound echoed across the clearing.

[You have slain a Human...]

[You have acquired +1 Soul Fragment]

The body went limp, face melting in acid as it hit the ground. Two more assassins lunged in unison, curved blades aimed at his back. A flare erupted, Eric had fired some special crossbow, a bolt of light flashing white across Luke’s vision. It didn’t slow him.

He spun, the kukri flashing into his grip. With a brutal upward slash he sheared through the attacker’s wrist, sending the severed hand spinning. Blood hissed into steam where it touched the blade’s acid. The man staggered back screaming but Luke didn’t give him the chance to recover. He drove the kukri straight into the man’s throat, twisting until the body went limp.

[You have slain a Human...]

[You have acquired +1 Soul Fragment]

Before the first corpse had even hit the ground, Luke had already pivoted and hurled the kukri into the second assassin’s face. The impact drove the blade deep; acid ate through flesh and cartilage, peeling it back to the bone in seconds.

[You have slain a Human...]

[You have acquired +1 Soul Fragment]

Eric fell back, eyes wide. Luke sent another kukri hurtling at the improvised shield Eric had pulled from his inventory. The impact shattered the metal. In the same motion Luke dashed through shadow, closing the gap. His demon-clawed hands clamped over Eric’s face, acid already sizzling, skin bubbling away. His clawed thumb drove into Eric’s eye, pressing down until it struck bone.

“Help!” Eric’s scream cracked through the mask of confidence he’d worn.

Luke hurled him into a tree, the impact cracking bark in a dull thunderclap. Even before Eric hit, Luke summoned his kukris back to his hands with a flick of will. Dropping like a hammer, he slashed clean through Eric’s feet midair. The man crashed to the ground, screaming, blood pooling under him.

The remaining assassins surged forward in panic, but Luke was already moving. He snapped his wrist, swinging a kukri like a chain. One assassin took the blade deep in the gut, acid eating through leather and skin; another caught a perfect slash across the neck, his head snapping back as blood sprayed in an arc.

[You have slain a Human...]

[You have acquired +1 Soul Fragment]

[You have slain a Human...]

[You have acquired +1 Soul Fragment]

The last one tried to run. Luke drove his claws into the man’s back and flung him into a tree hard enough to splinter the trunk. He landed on his knees, dragging himself forward.

“Please! I’m begging you! Let me live, I swear I won’t do anything! I’ll help you!” The words came out wet, his face smeared with blood.

“No.” Luke’s voice carried no hesitation. He drove the kukri into the man’s skull.

[You have slain a Human...]

[You have acquired +1 Soul Fragment]

Eric still writhed on the ground, crawling away. The icy stare he’d worn before was gone, replaced with naked fear. Luke walked toward him slowly, each step cracking the leaves underfoot.

“You’re going to tell me every detail of the plan,” Luke murmured, kneeling beside him. “And I’m going to peel you apart until I’m sure you’re telling the truth.”

His hand pressed to Eric’s scalp. Acid hissed where skin met claw. Eric’s scream echoed through the dead forest.

Then a hiss sliced the air.

A dry snap. Something punched into Luke’s back. Then another. And another. Five bolts in total. He staggered, eyes narrowing as the cold spread through his muscles. Eric tried to push himself upright, but before another word escaped, a flurry of bolts riddled his chest. He arched, blood streaming from his mouth, and collapsed, unmoving. Luke yanked the bolts from his own back, holding one up. The tip reeked of something bitter and unmistakable.

A low laugh drifted between the trees. Slow. Gravelly.

“It’s neurotoxin. Much stronger than last time,” the voice said.

From the shadows stepped Kruger, a crossbow slung across his shoulder, eyes like a predator’s.

“And you’ve taken plenty of it. Even with all that resistance, everyone has a limit, don’t they?” His chuckle cut through the silence. “That’s how an assassin works: he waits for the perfect moment, even if it means sacrificing a few allies.”

He blinked once. Two Krugers. Again. Three. Then only one.

“Oh, I might’ve lied. It’s not just neurotoxin… it’s a cocktail of lovely extras.”

Kruger let the crossbow vanish in a flash and drew two curved daggers, their edges catching the distant firelight.

“I like your new skill. Epic, isn’t it?” His smile widened. “Now you’re going to see mine.”