Becoming the Dark Lord

In the section dedicated to rings used as magical conduits, only two were available.

[Black Ring of Morgana (Epic)]: A ring as dark as onyx, set with a purple gem that pulses with occult energy. A remnant of ancient witches who walked deep along corrupted arcane paths, its surface seems to swallow light and intention. The ring increases magic channeling speed by 10% and acts as a stabilizer for volatile mana, aiding in control.

(Price: 2,000,000,000 TP.)

[Eternal Beauty Ring (Epic)]: A ring inherited from the shadowed traditions of witches who sought beauty, allure, and power through ritual bloodbaths and sacrifice. Its metallic surface radiates a supernatural and unsettling charm. Increases magic channeling speed by 10%, particularly valuable for those who walk arcane paths that twist charm, desire, or seduction into weapons.

(Price: 2,000,000,000 TP.)

“So it really is possible to use a ring as a weapon,” Luke murmured, fascinated.

“Yes,” Sigil replied. “But not just any ring. Only a magic–channeling ring qualifies. Think of it like a wand or a staff. It’s limited in how much power it can handle and in the benefits it provides, but it works as a conduit for spellcasting. And since it’s always on your hand, you can keep wielding your kukris and still cast spells.”

“I’m guessing there are other types of items that work as conduits too, right?”

At least that’s what he assumed. Maybe gloves, a necklace, something along those lines.

“There are specific constructs for that,” Sigil explained. “But the options shown here, even if powerful, are not particularly complex. Within your current level and physical limits, your hands serve as excellent mana conduits. That’s why staves, wands, and rings are all hand–bound casting tools. After all, you can’t exactly fire a fireball from your belly button.”

There were no cheaper versions of those rings, which told Luke one thing: using a ring as a spellcasting medium was extremely expensive and difficult to craft, requiring rare materials.

Two billion… At least that leaves me with eight billion for other things.

Not like he had budget problems.

Luke began dropping anything useful into the cart on his system panel. He took a large number of potion flasks and picked up tools for potion brewing, including a steel ladle that sterilized itself whenever it absorbed mana, ensuring nothing contaminated the brew.

[Potion Cauldron (Epic)]: A black enchanted cauldron designed to stabilize mixtures and enhance alchemical precision. Can be used outdoors without risk: no external element, leaves, dust, insects, impurities, can touch the contents, as an invisible barrier repels all contaminants. Ideal for witches brewing in forests, caves, or unstable environments, ensuring total safety and consistency in recipes.

(Price: 10,000,000 TP.)

Only ten million? I’m buying several.

He clicked repeatedly until a warning popped up: [Purchase limit reached].

Looks like I can only buy ten.

There were other cauldrons, but most required a complex laboratory setup, and he was still very much an amateur.

This one costs five hundred million. I’ll keep at least one of each cauldron type in the cart. Plenty of points to spare anyway.

Then he saw something that snapped his attention into focus.

[Portable Greenhouse Bracelet (Epic)]: A silver wristband set with a living gem that holds a five-meter pocket dimension dedicated entirely to non-sentient plants. Inside, the user can cultivate magical flora with full control over the environment. The greenhouse can be supplied with soil, while the gem absorbs sunlight from the outside world and converts it into mana to sustain the internal ecosystem. With extra mana, the user can interact directly with the miniature greenhouse, tending to the plants as if physically inside. The perfect tool for botanists, alchemists, and collectors of rare flora.

Requirement: SoulBound.

(Price: 500,000,000 TP.)

Only five meters? Fine. I’ll buy as many as I can.

[Limit reached]

He tapped the option again. Nothing. So he could only buy one. He tossed it into the cart anyway. There was no universe in which he wasn’t getting that thing.

Opening the [Scrolls] tab brought up a new page, and Luke scrolled through the list. His Witch class allowed him to activate their magic.

[Fireball Scroll (Common)]: A simple scroll containing the Fireball spell sealed in basic runes. When activated, it releases the spell instantly.

(Price: 100,000 TP.)

“Are scrolls like Skill Runes?” he asked.

“No. You can only activate a scroll once. After that, it crumbles,” Samael replied.

So that’s why it was cheap.

He’d almost thought he’d struck gold.

Back in the Witch skills section, he browsed through the options until one in particular grabbed him.

[Create Lesser Undead (Common)]: Using dark magic, the Witch transforms a corpse into an undead soldier, restoring function and binding it to her will. The undead returns with 60% of the original body’s level and receives a bonus equal to 10% of the caster’s Witch level, up to the skill’s limit. Each active undead requires 10 Willpower to control, limiting how many soldiers the necromancer can command.

(Price: 500,000,000 TP.)

“Why is a common skill this expensive?”

“Common doesn’t mean easy to get,” Samael said. “And you only have one Witch skill so far. It’s like holding a hammer; simple for you, but not for a newborn. For someone starting from nothing, even something common is incredibly valuable.”

He kept scrolling. Torrents of fire, turning corpses into shadows, stepping into mirrors. The Witch class really was all over the place. It could lean into offensive magic or plunge straight into the macabre.

Then he reached the final skill.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

[Teleportation Pentagram (Legendary)]: Not even distance can limit a Witch. Using Spatial Magic, she creates two teleportation circles in the shape of pentagrams and places them wherever she wants. While active, she can move instantly between them, crossing any distance allowed by the spell. Only she can use them, and if either circle is destroyed, the link breaks immediately.

(Price: 8,000,000,00 TP.)

Holy shit.

He didn’t think twice. He slapped it straight into the cart. There was no world where he wasn’t getting this. Except the moment he did, he noticed his cart total climb past his available 10,534,815,162 TP.

I’m not losing this skill. No matter what.

He prioritized the things he actually wanted: the ring, the skill, and the storage bracer. Just those three purchases totaled…

10.5 billion TP?

There went the budget. All he had left was 34 million TP.

Luke removed the ridiculous pile of cauldrons from his cart and left only three, each costing ten million TP. Almost five million remained, and he spent every last point on profession items he could use for cultivation: potion flasks, brewing tools, and even sacks of special enriched soil that accelerated plant growth.

He looked at his hand, and the Black Ring of Morgana materialized on his finger. Between the two available options, this one was unquestionably superior.

[You have acquired the Witch Class Skill: Teleportation Pentagram]

“That’s it? I’m level zero in the class and I get something this good?”

“Level rules for a second class fall into a sort of gray zone,” Samael replied. “Anyone who gains a second class is usually already quite strong in the first. Treat everything here as if the requirement were Rank F.”

The ring settled on the middle finger of his right hand. Black, etched with runes, and crowned with a small purple gem. When Luke focused, the gem pulsed faintly, answering him like a living thing.

“Usually a mage or similar class depends on grimoires and scrolls to attack in the beginning,” Samael noted. “At least until they level up enough to awaken their basic spells.”

That made sense. How was a mage supposed to level up if they didn’t even have a skill? Beat enemies to death with a staff? Back when Luke had been choosing between Assassin and the other class options, Mage had been one of them. He remembered the system provided a scroll for that very reason.

“You didn’t buy a single offensive spell scroll to help you,” Samael added, “and you burned almost everything just to obtain a skill. But knowing you, I assume you already thought of some way to level your Witch class until you unlock an offensive spell.”

“I did. And I’m going to test it now.”

He looked at his skills.

[Basic Magic Manipulation]

[Mana Infusion]

Luke raised his hand and channeled mana into the ring’s gem. The instant the mana entered it, the ring pushed it outward, shaping it through his palm. A small sphere of bright white mana formed, pure and condensed.

He pointed toward a cluster of trees. The sphere shot forward, fast and accurate, and exploded on impact. It was almost like a fireball, except made entirely from mana.

“Interesting,” Sigil commented as he observed the shattered tree. “An advanced manipulation of pure mana. Now I understand why you awakened a Magic Caster–type class.”

“And you learned to do that in… one second after deciding to try,” Samael said. “I still can’t tell if it was boldness, talent, or luck. If it hadn’t worked, what would you have done to level this class? You spent all your Tutorial Points.”

“I’d have to find scrolls back on Earth,” Luke admitted with an awkward laugh. “At least until I reached a level that unlocks an offensive spell.”

He looked down at his hands again. Thanks to learning how to channel mana through an object via his Witch class, he no longer needed to push mana into something the way he did with his explosive mana arrows. Now he could generate those mana bombs directly and fire them freely.

Luke lifted his palm, and a small bright white sphere began to form.

If I have enough mana… could I make a Genki Dama?

Yes. That had been the plan from the very beginning when he took the risk: try to imitate a Genkidama. And apparently it worked. But when he tried increasing the size of the sphere, nothing happened. That seemed to be the limit of its power.

A sudden sound cracked above him. The sky itself began to split like shattering glass.

“Your time here is running out,” Sigil warned. “You have one minute to talk.”

The hooded god pointed toward the stone door as it slowly opened. His body drifted away, leaving Luke and Samael alone.

“You’re the one who has to leave this place, Luke,” Samael said, pulling something from the pocket of his coat.

The ground shook violently, the entire world trembling like it was caught in an earthquake.

“All right… then just tell me what I’ve been trying to learn all this time,” Luke insisted, stepping closer. “How did my mother die? Who killed her?”

That was the question. The answer that had shaped everything he’d done since accepting the system.

Samael placed a hand on his shoulder.

“I promised I would tell you the next time we met, but something unexpected happened.”

“What?!” Luke’s voice cracked with shock.

“I did manage to learn about your mother. And by the way… you never once told me her name. You noticed that, didn’t you?”

“I mean, I thought—”

Before he could finish, Samael raised a hand to stop him. Time was slipping away.

“Of course I already knew. I looked into Elizabeth Moon and the year she disappeared. I combed through every tutorial that occurred in your universe. Your planet isn’t the only one in it,” Samael explained.

“Fine, but the answer,” Luke urged, anxious.

“There are two kinds of tutorials.”

“You’re stalling,” Luke snapped.

The trembling grew worse. The floor began to crack open.

“The truth is that Elizabeth Moon didn’t enter an ordinary tutorial,” Samael said as they moved toward the door. The world around them roared with explosions and the thunderous sound of fracturing glass. The dream was collapsing.

“What does that mean?” Luke demanded.

“It’s like I was trying to tell you. There are two kinds of tutorials. One offered directly by the System, and another that serves as a god’s trial. Remember that whole explanation I gave you about bread? Right. Your mother went into one of those.”

“And what happened?!” Luke shouted. Partly out of fear, partly because the place around them was collapsing.

“That kind of tutorial works the same way your conversation with Sigil did,” Samael began. “No one knows what happens inside except the participants. You also can’t find out who else was there, or which god created it. So it’s not like I can just pull up a report and search for your mother’s name.”

He let out a slow breath. “I’ve had to ask around quietly, nudging several gods for information. And don’t forget, the multiverse of gods submits tutorials to your planet. I’m still trying to stay discreet instead of drawing too much attention. To summarize, my priority now is figuring out which gods submitted a tutorial in your universe that year. And that’s going to take time.”

Luke didn’t know what he was supposed to feel. Everything inside him was twisted up. It wasn’t just the disappointment of not getting answers about his mother right now. It was the weight of knowing she had been sent somewhere dangerous. Brutal. A place where she might have suffered long before she died.

“I need to know what happened to her. And I’m going to find out which bastard god created that tutorial,” he said.

Samael handed him an envelope. It was entirely black.

“This is an invitation to meet with Azazel. The letter explains how you’ll find him. Our time is up. Maybe the next time we meet, I’ll have your answer.”

Luke felt his body begin to pull forward, as if caught by a magnet. The door was dragging him in.

“The conversation is over,” Samael said. “And congratulations on your second servant. A legendary Stone Angel. Choose her class wisely, and once she reaches Rank E, she will—”

Luke didn’t hear the rest. The force yanked him forward, slamming him toward the door. Light swallowed him, and his body vanished as the teleportation took hold.

At least now he was going home. Back to Earth, for real this time.