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Becoming the Dark Lord - Chapter 189
🕑 Added 2025-07-25 01:48:07 +0000 UTCA brutal impact came from above. Luke threw himself sideways on instinct. Something slammed into the ground where he’d just been, a shockwave burst outward, hurling him into the trunk of a tree.
[Forest Minotaur – Lvl 52]
Luke hit the ground and rolled, coughing hard. “Shit…”
The minotaur stood there, staring him down. It drew a deep breath through its nostrils, and Luke understood what it was doing. It was smelling him on purpose. Then the beast charged, holding a massive double-bladed axe glowing with natural runes.
Luke unsheathed his kukris. The first blow came down with brutal force. He dodged back, narrowly avoiding the strike, and blocked the follow-up with his offhand blade. The creature roared. Its left hand slammed into the ground, forcing Luke to leap aside. But the monster came at him like a raging bull. Luke shifted into mist mid-air.
The minotaur barreled through his ethereal form only to blow a violent gust of wind from its lungs, dispersing the fog and forcing Luke to rematerialize. He hit the ground hard. The minotaur was already mid-leap, axe raised high. Luke brought up both kukris just in time to block, the clash sparked violently on impact. The difference in strength was undeniable.
The creature’s eyes burned orange. Its mouth opened and he saw the glow gathering.
“…Ah, fuck.”
Luke flung himself backward. A blazing torrent of fire erupted from the minotaur’s jaws, tearing a straight line of destruction through the forest floor. Trees behind Luke ignited in an instant, roaring with flames. No time to think. He reached into his bag and grabbed a sealed flask, black glass, waxed top.
“Let’s see if this crap actually works!”
He hurled it. The flask shattered against the minotaur’s chest, releasing a plume of sticky, smoking gray liquid. The creature screamed, stumbling back. The substance sizzled and burned, his shadow mixture, the acidic blend he’d created using Dark Blood. The minotaur shrieked, staggering. The acid wasn’t strong enough to kill but it bought Luke a few precious seconds.
He backed off quickly, trying to calculate his next move. But then… he felt it. A subtle tremor passed beneath his feet. Trees in the distance began to sway, parting slowly as if something massive was forcing its way through.
“Oh shit…”
He barely had time to feel satisfied about the corrosive flask before she arrived. The giant serpent burst from the jungle, carving a path like a living avalanche. Luke recognized her instantly: The Beast Lord.
The creature that had been hunting him since that first encounter. And now she had heard the minotaur’s screams.The monster slithered closer, its head weaving between branches. Golden eyes locked onto the minotaur, still writhing in pain. She paused. Sniffed. Then began sniffing the entire area. But Luke was no longer there.
He was sprinting through the jungle with everything he had. One hand smeared Green Camouflage Mud across his body, masking his scent. The world around him dissolved into chaos. His breath ragged. Branches tearing at his clothes.
The serpent’s roar echoed behind him. He knew. The Beast Lord was hunting him. Ever since that first stare. Since the moment he dared to survive. Luke wasn’t just an intruder anymore. He was a potential threat and the creature knew it. He ran farther until he found an old, hollow trunk. Without hesitation, he dissolved into mist and slipped through a narrow crack in the wood. Inside, total darkness. He waited. Silent. Invisible.
***
For a long while, Luke stayed hidden in absolute silence, listening to the sounds of the forest. Even though the Beast Lord hadn’t found him, the risk hadn’t passed. The creature was massive enough to flatten entire groves just by slithering through them. But it didn’t happen. The monster moved in the opposite direction.
Luke silently thanked the camouflage mud for masking his scent. When he was sure it was safe, he emerged from the hollow trunk. This part of the forest was filled with towering trees, tall as buildings. He scanned the area, trying to catch a glimpse of the Beast Lord, but the serpent blended naturally with the jungle, her colors vanishing into the foliage like a true apex predator.
He let out a long breath. It was clear now he couldn’t return to that region to gather more plants for his experiments.
“If that snake finds the cave, I’m dead. She’ll never leave…”
***
Luke arrived back at the cave after spending nearly half a day in the forest. Samael was nowhere in sight. There were times he simply vanished. According to him, it helped "stretch out" the limited time he had with Luke.
Kalysto folded her arms the moment he walked in. “Where have you been? Lady Artemis was hungry.”
Luke let out a tired sigh. “She’s always hungry…” he muttered.
Kalysto still wore the soulbound necklace, but the storage enchantment was linked to Luke. Only he could withdraw or store items from it.
Right on cue, Artemis’s voice echoed from within, bright and cheerful as ever: “Hey, Luke! How was the expedition? I heard last time you picked up some... rather interesting plants.”
Luke paused. “If you're talking about the Energizing Catuaba, it was purely for scientific purposes. I repeat: scientific.”
“…What?” Artemis asked, confused.
“Never mind.” He looked away, dodging the topic entirely.
Kalysto stared at him. Serious. Silent.
Luke raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. I’ll feed your ‘lady.’”
He walked to the table, grabbed the dishes, and touched the necklace around Kalysto’s neck. The food vanished, stored inside.
“Mmm… this smells amazing!” Artemis said from within, already delighted.
“I did my best, Lady Artemis,” Kalysto replied with a serene smile.
Meanwhile, the hungry soul made exaggerated noises of pleasure, like she was dining in a plane of gourmet ecstasy.
“By the way, Luke... I’ve been respecting our agreement, okay? I didn’t eat any of your food.” A pause. “Well… maybe one or two things. But I really tried.”
Luke just shook his head, too tired to argue. Instead, he made a beeline for the lab. He tossed the satchel onto the workbench and began unloading plants one by one, organizing them by species, color, scent, and texture. But the most important specimen was still sealed in the special case: the Noctora Heart-Rot. He left it untouched for now.
Instead, he walked over to the cauldron, now cooled. Carefully, he took a metal ladle and began transferring the dark liquid into glass vials. One… two… four vials in total.
Mental note: Need more flasks. Throwing acid breaks one every time.
Over the past few days, Luke had been studying the effects of his acid. It wasn’t powerful—more like boiling water on skin—but it was still a weapon. As he sealed the final vial, a system notification blinked into view.
Your profession [Botanist of Mother Freya] has reached Level 10! (Bonus attribute points acquired)
[You have acquired a Profession Skill]
A new window opened in the system interface. Luke raised an eyebrow. Now he had choices. The first ability, he immediately recognized its origin.
[Plant Sensor (Uncommon)]: Allows the botanist to detect the presence of plants in a nearby area by sensing their natural signatures as sensory echoes. The skill also enables filtering by specific plant types, functioning like a botanical sonar.
“Plant sonar, huh…?” He crossed his arms.
It made sense. He’d already improvised something like this before, using his expanded perception to feel for plants he’d previously identified. But this? This was the real deal. A dedicated, refined skill. With filters. With range. It could even detect plants he hadn’t scanned yet.
Luke smirked. “With this... I can hunt ingredients like a biological radar.”
He looked at the other skills listed.
[Seedburst (Uncommon)]: Through concentrated magical stimulus, the botanist accelerates the germination of seeds, forcing them to sprout and begin development. Ideal for starting cultivation in controlled or emergency situations.
Luke hadn’t really gotten into cultivation yet, not seriously. During the tutorial, there simply hadn’t been time. The only thing he’d planted was mint, and that was just to gain experience and level up.
“Cool… but I don’t exactly have a farm setup right now,” he muttered, moving on.
[Soil Analysis (Uncommon)]: Allows the botanist to examine soil properties, identifying its quality, composition, and compatibility with different types of plants. Essential for ensuring the healthy growth of specific flora.
Definitely a farming-related skill, useful for agriculture, maybe even essential for high-end harvesting. But right now? Not helpful. He still had to resume his search for the third mechanism.
“I can’t exactly go full-time gardener while being hunted by a giant death snake.”
Next.
[Plant Restoration (Uncommon)]: The botanist channels restorative mana to heal sick, withered, or contaminated plants. Restores vitality, removes infestations, and corrects natural imbalances, allowing the plant to return to a healthy state.
It seemed useless at first glance… but Luke could see potential. Maybe he could use it to gain profession experience. Maybe even try to heal that tree the parasitic plant was feeding on. Still, not the priority right now.
Then he reached the last one.
[Seed Conversion (Rare)]: Using alchemical magic, the botanist transmutes a mature plant into a pure seed of its own type. This process preserves rare specimens or allows collected plants to be adapted for future cultivation in the garden.
Luke’s eyes immediately shifted to the case holding the poisonous plant.
“If I turned this beauty into a seed... maybe I could cultivate it in a controlled environment. But…”
Even then, he wouldn’t have time to care for plants, and worse, this one fed on others. Still, if he managed to transmute it, maybe in seed form it would draw from the soil instead of draining life. The problem was clear: doing so meant losing the only specimen he had.
He exhaled quietly. Even if he had no intention of using poison as a weapon, that didn’t mean Luke wasn’t curious about how to understand and craft one. In fact, if he wanted to learn how to make effective antidotes, he first had to understand the venom. That was his current goal: develop a defense against Bartholomew and any of Bastion’s soldiers who dabbled in toxins.
He had the knowledge to go deep into it, and yet the idea of creating poison felt wrong. Maybe because, deep down, he didn’t want to cross that line. Poison was designed to kill. It wasn’t defense—it was execution. Maybe that was the problem. Maybe he didn’t want to surrender that last sliver of humanity inside him. Because his plan, once the tutorial was over, was to accept his place with the Baumanns and move forward.
He was drowning in his own abyss, but he planned to leave it behind. If he walked the path of poison, he feared the human part of him would vanish completely. But something darker stirred inside him, something deeper, unspoken. A possibility. What if he didn’t want to use poison because there would be no satisfaction in killing with it? That thought terrified him.
He buried it instantly, dismissing it as a morbid daydream, just another echo of the paranoia he had toward himself. His emotions were still fractured from Angelica’s death. He wanted to make Bartholomew pay. He wanted revenge against all of them.
But part of him also blamed himself. Luke let out another long sigh and turned his attention back to the glowing interface, the system screen still hovering with the available skill options. The truth was, most of them weren’t particularly useful in his current situation. In the end, he went with his instincts.
[You have acquired the Profession Skill: Plant Sensor]
At the very least, it would help him locate new specimens more efficiently. He turned, eyes resting again on the poisonous plant and the empty cauldron in front of him.
“What happens if I try to make a poison from this… and use Dark Blood as a catalyst?” he murmured.
Without hesitation, he began preparing the potion.
***
Bartholomew sat in the meeting hall. In front of him were the key leaders of the Safe Zone, wood merchants, fishermen, blacksmiths. Men and women he had once seen arrive with nothing in their hands, and through sheer effort, build thriving businesses. He felt a certain pride in them. Compared to the old society on Earth, these people now represented the elite of the tutorial.
He knew he couldn’t control everything alone. The survival and growth of the Safe Zone depended on those individuals, people who had elevated their professions to impressive levels. Builders could repair entire structures, provided they had materials from skilled miners and lumberjacks. A veteran miner could transmute stone into rare metals; a gifted lumberjack could multiply wood with the right skills. Farmers and livestock handlers had their place too, monstrous beasts, once tamed, provided meat and leather to keep the population fed.
Bartholomew only invested in the right people, the ones he trusted. Or rather, the ones he could manipulate. People who had abandoned the idea of advancing further in the tutorial and instead clung to the safety of this controlled bubble. He let them grow, build businesses, expand, as long as they remained under his control.
The two rival factions had been completely eliminated. Marshall and Angelica died on the same night, two birds with one stone, exactly as he had planned. Bartholomew had known about Marshall’s attack from the beginning. He also knew about Paul, the mole secretly working for him. The sabotage, the murders, the false accusations against the Haven, it had all been part of a larger strategy. A plan to destabilize the Safe Zone, crank the tension to the breaking point, and then restore order as the savior.
Did some people hate him? Yes. But even that… he had anticipated.
Now was the time for reconstruction. Homes would be rebuilt, stronger, more resilient. Security would expand beyond Bastion. Soldiers would patrol the entirety of the Safe Zone. And once hunger and cold were nothing more than a memory, once every family had a roof, a meal, and children growing up, who, after all, would want to return to Earth?
Bartholomew held back the urge to laugh right there in the meeting. The plan was working. First, he had crushed them, hoarding resources.
Now, he extended a hand as their benefactor. The people, trained like dogs, would take it and thank him for it.
That’s when a loud knock at the door interrupted the moment. Ronan, one of his most trusted lieutenants, entered.
“Bartholomew, sorry to interrupt,” he said. “But that man is still outside the fortress, shouting for everyone to hear that he demands an audience with you.”
All eyes turned to the king. In earlier days, Bartholomew might have ordered Jonathan removed, maybe even disposed of, for daring to interrupt him. That man had been showing up for days now, repeating the same request.
“Give him something to eat. Maybe he’s just hungry,” Bartholomew said with a forced smile. “Then send him on his way. I know the Haven is struggling since their leader’s death. I sympathize. I’m committed to helping with food and labor. But for now, all of us are focused on improving our Safe Zone, aren’t we?”
Everyone nodded in agreement.
“I’m particularly excited about the idea of having our own currency,” someone added.
Ronan sighed and turned to leave. “Just thought you should know. The man seems deranged. He’s been shouting ‘Blight’ since sunrise.”
Bartholomew froze. The air left his lungs.
“What did you say he’s shouting?” he asked sharply.
“‘Blight’… and some other things. Maybe he went mad after the ant attack,” Ronan replied, confused.
“A shame,” someone murmured. “My daughter Layla’s been panicking ever since that day too.”
As the others resumed their conversation, Bartholomew felt sweat trickle down the back of his neck. Forcing a smile, he stepped toward Ronan and whispered in his ear:
“Bring him. Bring Jonathan inside. Immediately.”
Ronan looked at him, confused.
“Just do it,” Bartholomew snapped, shoving him toward the door.
The doors shut behind them. The king returned to the center of the room, but his mind was no longer there. It was on fire, spinning in circles. How did Jonathan know the name of the god he served?
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