Becoming the Dark Lord [LitRPG]

Chapter 156: No Turning Back


Luke walked among the corpses of the Renegades. These were the last of them. There were still thieves and fugitives scattered from the chaos at the Safe Zone, but Luke had no interest in chasing them down. His focus remained on those closest to the core of the Renegade faction—the originals. None of the founders survived. They had entered Bastion and never came out. Bartholomew and his men killed them all, proving their strength once and for all. And now, after gaining the experience points from Marshall and his soldiers, they had become even stronger.

Since he and Charlie started hunting the remaining Renegades, they'd made some progress. Charlie began at race level 13, with her Death Knight class at 23 and her second class, Pugilist, at 6. Now, she had leveled up — race 14, class 24, second class 8.

He wanted her to become truly strong—strong enough to face whatever waited beyond the gate at the end of the Wild Zone. And to make that happen, he had to become even stronger himself.

He rarely used his kukris in these fights. Instead, he relied on his fists, his stamina control, and a growing understanding of his own attributes. With every punch and dodge, Luke was studying the limits of his body—and more importantly, the limits of his mana. His goal was to wield mana with the same natural ease he had with stamina.

One of his current challenges was learning to use Wraith Form in a more advanced way—partially. Instead of turning his whole body into mist, he wanted to phase out specific parts, like just an arm or a leg, while keeping the rest of his body solid.

He had already done something similar in the past—back when he killed the Midnight Warden. Back then, he had shaped a decoy out of fog that resembled himself, using it as a distraction. At the perfect moment, he materialized his real arm through the mist and struck. It worked. But in that case, the fog was separate—a construct. The arm he used was still physical.

What he wanted now was far more difficult. He wasn't trying to fake a part of his body with mist—he wanted to become mist. Specifically, to make his real arm vanish completely into fog while the rest of him stayed physical. That meant partially shifting his body out of the physical plane and triggering Wraith Form in just one region, without affecting the rest.

It was like trying to split his presence between two realities. And it wasn't easy.

Luke knew he was holding back his class advancement by avoiding the use of his kukris. Still, he earned enough experience to keep leveling his race—and he could feel level 15 drawing near.

As he crushed enemies with brute force, he also continued collecting soul fragments, though he had no idea what they were for or what would happen once he reached the thousand-mark threshold. Right now, he had gathered sixty-one.

Now, standing in the shadow of a twisted tree, he opened Charlie's system interface.

Name: Princess Charlie Level: 14 Rank: F Class: [Death Knight (Lvl 24)] 2nd Class: Pugilist (Lvl 8) Race: Skeleton Titles: [Servant of the Dark Lord] Health Points (HP): 1093/1140 Mana Points (MP): 438/700 Stamina: 1263/1350

Stats: Strength: 133 (203) Agility: 77 Endurance: 95 (135) Vitality: 114 Perception: 58 Intelligence: 70 Free Points: 2

Class Skills: [Basic Weapon Handling (Common)], Heavy Strike (Common), [Basic Spectral Charge (Rare)], [Razor Blade (Uncommon)], [Whirlwind Strike (Uncommon)], [Spectral Chain (Rare)], [Spectral Barrier (Rare)]

Second Class Skills: [Advanced Hand-to-Hand (Uncommon)], [Steel Fist (Rare)], [Stunning Punch (Uncommon)], [Battle Roar (Uncommon)], [Concentrated Kick (Uncommon)],

Race Skills: [Demonic Servant Perception (Uncommon)], [Basic Bone Regeneration (Rare)], [Bone Endurance (Rare)], [Iron Bones (Ultra-Rare)]

Rune Skill: [Berserker Flames (Rare)]

"You started this journey back in that dungeon with just forty HP," he said, remembering. "I just hope what you've got now is enough to handle whatever's waiting on the other side of that gate."

Luke allocated both of her unassigned points into Vitality.

Stats Updated (Princess Charlie): Vitality: 114 -> 116 Free Points: 2 -> 0 Health Points (HP): 1093/1140 -> 1113/1160

Then, he opened his own interface.

Name: Luke Level: 14 Rank: F Class: [Demonic Assassin (Lvl 28)] Race: Half-Demon Profession: - Titles: [Dark Lord] Bloodline: [Bloodline of the Dark Demon] Health Points (HP): 1188/1260 Mana Points (MP): 879/910 Stamina: 491/600 Soul Fragments: 61/1000

Stats: Strength: 141 Agility: 134 (184) Endurance: 40 (60) Vitality: 126 Perception: 145 (155)

If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. Intelligence: 86 (91) Free Points: 4

Class Skills: [Basic Blade Handling (Common)], [Profane Knife Throwing (Uncommon)], [Twin Blade (Common)], [Basic Dark Dash (Rare)], [Basic Blood Regeneration (Rare)], [Assassin's Mark (Rare)], [Demonic Blade Dance (Rare)], [Wraith Form (Ultra-Rare)], [Force Infusion (Rare)]

Race Skills: [Identify (Common)], [Demonic Perception (Uncommon)], [Dark Blood (Uncommon)], [Meditation (Common)], [Demonic Endurance (Uncommon)]

Bloodline Skill: [Servant of the Dark Lord (Unique)] Servant: [Princess Charlie (Skeleton) - Lvl 14]

Luke decided to invest his points in Strength and Endurance.

Stats Updated: Strength: 141 -> 143 Endurance: 40 (60) -> 42 (62)

There was one last thing he had to do before vanishing from this place for good. He needed to stop by his hideout in the Safe Zone.

***

Luke moved through the Safe Zone, staying in the shadows. Over the past few days, Bartholomew's soldiers had ramped up their patrols. Constant sweeps, men on rooftops, eyes on every corner. Luke didn't know if they were specifically looking for him or just on high alert after the Renegade attacks—but he wasn't going to take chances. He preferred caution. He preferred to be invisible.

He climbed to the rooftop of an old building and let out a quiet sigh. If he truly meant to cross the gate at the end of the Wild Zone—and survive whatever waited on the other side—he'd need supplies.

He slipped through the city until he reached his old hideout. Part of it had been destroyed during the ant attack. He stepped inside and silently scanned the room. The bed was still intact, sturdy, and he stored it in his dimensional storage item, along with the rest of his gear. Even the water barrel—anything that might help him once he was beyond the gate.

Food came first. He opened his hidden chest and began to clear it out. The sacks of seeds were left untouched. He focused on what mattered: canned goods, roasted meat, ready-to-eat rations. He could always hunt in the Wild Zone if it came to that, but he didn't have the time now. Prepping the meat—cleaning, roasting—it would take too long. These were already cooked and would stay preserved inside the necklace.

The barrier that marked the end of the Wild Zone wasn't just a wall. It was a warning. If crossing it required taking down two fortresses or killing a Midnight Warden, whatever lay beyond would be worse. Enemies on the level of the wardens—or stronger. But Luke had a plan for when he crossed.

He intended to find the third mechanism. The third fortress. The true location of the castle. If what they were seeing was a mirage, he had to uncover the real one. Only then could he activate the second mechanism. Only then would he be ready to try escaping this hell.

Luke looked down at the necklace—Artemis's invention, his dimensional storage—and muttered to himself:

"Hope this thing doesn't make the food vanish…"

He turned to leave the hideout. Then stopped. Someone was there. Outside. Standing in the path, as if waiting for him.

Paul.

"Knew you'd come back here," Paul said, his voice low and casual. "It was only a matter of time. Figured you'd come to collect your things."

Luke didn't move. His eyes locked onto him.

"You come alone?" he asked.

Silence hung heavy between them. Paul took a step down from the stairs.

"I'm more than enough," Paul replied. "And I'm not here for revenge, honor, or any of that crap. You already know I'm the one who killed Angelica. So I can't let you live. It's not that I never considered it—I would've been perfectly fine if you had died in that tunnel, like the other idiots who thought they could escape this world. I've got no intention of letting this tutorial be completed."

"Why?" Luke asked, his voice calm and flat.

"Because this world is perfect." Paul spread his arms, as if stating the obvious. "Here, I'm somebody. No bills, no boss, no failure. This world is freedom. Here, I'm Paul. Out there... I'm no one."

Luke stared at him in silence. Paul seemed to study him for a moment.

"If you know I'm good with poisons..." He crossed his arms, a crooked smile tugging at his lips. "Didn't it worry you that I might poison someone else? Like... Allison?"

Luke answered without hesitation. "She told me a long time ago she has poison resistance. And besides, Thiara is at the Haven. She'd heal her."

Paul seemed to follow his line of thinking. "By the way, where'd you get poison?" Luke asked, curious.

"Bartholomew gave it to me."

"I see..." Luke said, quietly reflecting.

Paul narrowed his eyes. "You don't look even slightly surprised to see me here."

"I have a skill that lets me mark a target," Luke replied. "I marked you the moment I arrived at the Haven. Before I even got close to this place, I knew you were here."

Paul let out a low chuckle. "Interesting. Because I've got a similar skill." He snapped his fingers. "I marked you right before I left the Haven. When you got here, I was already waiting."

Luke's gaze didn't waver. "I didn't kill you in front of everyone because I didn't want to take that moment away from Angelica. Her memory means more to the Haven than your death." He took a step forward. "But you... you're going to disappear. And no one will ever know what happened to you."

Paul tilted his head. "You overestimate your abilities."

With a smooth motion, he drew a second blade from his waist. The twin swords gleamed in the moonlight, and the grin on his face widened. "I'll make you the same promise."

From his back, spectral arms of mana began to emerge, dancing like serpents. Their ghostly fingers touched the ring on his hand and pulled spears from his storage item, handing them to him with cruel precision. Two of the arms planted themselves on the ground like extra limbs, lifting Paul effortlessly into the air. He hovered, supported by those ethereal extensions.

"Don't worry about Allison," Paul said, his voice dripping with venom. "I'll take good care of her for you... every night, in bed."

Luke didn't move. But his face... it hardened.

"You're a dead man," Paul said.

The silence between them lasted half a second. And then, as if the entire world held its breath, the fight began.

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