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Becoming the Dark Lord - Chapter 123
🕑 Added 2025-06-22 11:02:18 +0000 UTC“I’m really glad you’re alive, Mister Luke,” Thiara said softly as she stepped closer and sat beside him, right on the edge of the makeshift mattress. The faint glow of healing magic still pulsed around her hand, but it trembled with exhaustion.
“You made it back... alive.”
She sighed, then carefully reached for the bandage wrapped around Luke’s injured eye. “Alright... this part is gonna hurt,” she warned.
“More? Honestly, this healing hurts so much it feels worse than getting injured,” Luke muttered.
“Well... your body is being magically rebuilt. Nothing comes without a price. Pain’s part of the process,” she replied calmly, peeling the cloth away from his eye with delicate fingers.
“Look... understand one thing,” she continued, resting her palm gently against his face. “If there’s still any splinter left in there, the healing magic will keep trying to fix the tissue around it. But it won’t stop the splinter from cutting into you. Eventually, the magic forces it out... but until then, you get both the pain of regeneration and the pain of something being ripped out.”
Luke shut his other eye, trying to focus on anything else. “System healing doesn’t hurt...” he mumbled.
“System healing is... perfect,” Thiara said, her tone thoughtful. “It can regrow entire limbs. Maybe it’s some kind of temporal reversal? No one really knows. Plenty of scholars have tried to figure out how magic actually works.”
The conversation helped. Anything to pull his mind away from the burning ache behind his eye—as if something was being ripped out with fire.
“For what it’s worth... I was really sad when I heard you died.”
“You really do sound like a medic... always throwing in empathy, trying to keep the patient calm,” he replied, forcing a smile.
“Ah... thank you,” she muttered, a little embarrassed. “But I mean it, Mister Luke. I’m not just saying it to distract you.”
They kept talking as the magic did its work. The pain hummed beneath every word—a constant buzz—but it stayed just below unbearable.
Finally, Thiara pulled her hand away. The soft glow faded. She tilted her head. “So... how is it? Vision okay?”
Luke carefully touched the area around his eye. “Feels perfect.”
Thiara visibly relaxed, a quiet smile touching her lips. “I’ll go get something for you to eat,” she said, standing and slipping out of the tent.
Luke let out a long breath. His eyes scanned the inside of the infirmary—sterile, improvised, but safe. There were... good reasons he’d come straight to the Haven, even though he had a stash of healing potions hidden away.
The main reason? Marshall’s spy.
Marshall and his soldiers had been the last ones to see him alive. And after disappearing for an entire month... it was only a matter of time before the spy inside the Haven started connecting the dots. That’s why he made damn sure to enter the Safe Zone alone—with no sign of Charlie.
Keeping Charlie in the shadows was crucial. She was his ace. His hidden card.
It was also why he hadn’t even considered stopping by his hideout to heal. The spy needed to believe he barely survived. That he came back weaker. Broken. Disposable.
Footsteps approached. A presence entered the tent.
Allison.
“You... looked awful. So many injuries,” she said quietly.
“I disappear for a month, get declared dead... and the first thing I hear when I get back is an insult?” Luke shot back with a crooked grin.
“What? N-no, that’s not—”
“It’s a joke.”
The realization clicked. She smiled—a small, almost shy one. “I just... I’m really glad you came back alive... even if not in one piece.”
She sat down at the edge of the bed. There was something in her tone. Something... more.
“I... felt kind of guilty,” Allison admitted after a brief silence.
“Why?” Luke asked.
“Because... you and I got excited about the mission. About everything we were discovering. The possibilities. And... I guess I pushed you. Encouraged you to go further. And... indirectly...”
Her eyes lowered.
“...I thought I’d gotten you killed.”
Luke watched her.
A part of him wanted to make a joke—say something like 'I don’t die that easily.'
But seeing her face... the words caught in his throat.
She really had carried that guilt.
“I... I don’t handle... people I care about... dying,” she continued, voice soft, eyes staring at some vague spot in the tent. “There was someone... someone really important to me. She raised me like her own. And... she’s gone. Happened when I was younger.”
She stood abruptly, almost like the act of getting up was a way to shut the emotions off. A silent barrier.
“I... I’m just glad you’re alive, my friend,” she said, stretching out her hand.
Luke stared at it for a second before gripping it. Firm. Steady.
A handshake... loaded with silent promises neither of them needed to say out loud.
“We’re both getting out of this place. Back to Earth. So if you ever plan to run off on some suicide mission again...” Her gaze hardened just a bit. “Call me. I’m going with you.”
With that, she turned and left the tent.
Luke sat there for a few moments, staring at the empty space where she’d been seconds earlier.
Surprised.
He’d always considered Allison a friend.
But for the first time... he felt the weight of that word. The value of it.
She truly was... his friend.
***
A week had passed since Luke returned to the Haven.
And for once... he felt no rush to head back into the Wild Zone.
Instead, he gave himself something rare in this world—rest.
People stared whenever he walked through camp. Some with shock. Some with disbelief. The rumors had said he was dead—killed.
Killed. Me?
The thought made him chuckle as he made his way back to his hideout.
It looked like Allison had passed through a few times—but hadn’t touched anything. There was a stack of folded women’s clothes in one corner. She’d probably been using this place as a resting point between exploration runs into the Wild Zone.
Things in the Safe Zone weren’t exactly better. Tension with the Renegades was worse than ever. Bartholomew had tightened curfews, and now, no group larger than five was allowed outside Bastion’s immediate perimeter.
Inside the fortress, he was king. But outside... it was constant surveillance. Constant control.
Luke lay back on the bed in his hideout, a spoon buried deep in a can of peanut butter, savoring every bite like it was gold.
“I can’t believe I traded this... for tracking Renegades through the damn wilderness,” he muttered with his mouth full.
The fire crackled softly in the corner, casting twitching shadows against the wooden walls.
Princess Charlie walked over, beaming, holding a plate in her hands. She’d just finished cooking a piece of meat—or something close to it.
She looked ridiculously proud.
“I’m... eating sweets right now. Doesn’t really... match,” he said, hesitant.
Her shoulders slumped immediately. Disappointment all over her face.
Luke sighed, defeated by the look alone. He set the peanut butter aside and took the plate.
“Alright...” he mumbled before biting into the slightly charred chunk.
“Mmm... delicious...” he said with a strained smile.
She burned the whole thing...
But Charlie lit up, absolutely radiant with the praise.
Luke stood up slowly and walked over to the chest. Inside were the supplies he’d managed to stash away—food, bags of seeds, and, most importantly, his precious healing potions. Some of them had literally saved his life in orc territory.
“Let’s hope we never have to use these again...” he muttered, shutting the lid.
He’d come back from chaos. But this wasn’t the end. Not even close. He wanted out of this place. Back to Earth. And that meant conquering the second fortress... activating the hidden mechanism inside... and hopefully not getting murdered by the Midnight Warden guarding the place.
For that, he needed to map everything. The entire area around the fortress.
Luke opened his inventory and pulled out the item he’d received after killing Morvat. A red stone sat in his palm—roughly the size of his hand. Warm to the touch. A faint vibration pulsed from within.
Morvat’s Skill Rune.
And it was about to become his.
***
Luke and Princess Charlie were deep inside the Wild Zone, standing in the ruins of an ancient stone church—more like a forgotten temple than anything else. It was the same place where he’d fought the Arachna, the monstrous spider that had guarded the Artemis Invention.
The spider’s corpse was still there—dry, unmoving, perfectly preserved, as if decay simply didn’t exist in this world. This place... hidden, isolated... was the only one Luke trusted for what he was about to do. No eyes. No ears. And plenty of space.
He opened his inventory and pulled out the crimson rune he’d claimed from Morvat. His fingers tightened around it as the system window blinked open.
[Morvat’s Skill Rune: Berserker Flames (Rare)
Description: A rune infused with the fury of an enraged general who defended his territory with burning rage. The power within burns intensely, waiting to be unleashed.
Warning: Upon breaking this rune, you will permanently acquire Berserker Flames. The rune will be destroyed in the process and cannot be reused.
Skill:
[Berserker Flames (Rare)]: Your body is temporarily engulfed in raging flames, igniting both your strength and speed for a short duration. During this time, your attacks hit harder, and your mobility skyrockets—allowing for ferocious strikes and rapid movement. The fire of vengeance doesn’t just consume your enemies... it feeds your own fury in battle.]
Luke watched the stone pulse—its crimson glow like a heartbeat, steady and alive. “So... this is it. A new skill.”
He spun the rune once in his hand—then, without warning, tossed it straight to Charlie.
She caught it midair, staring at him, confused.
“What?” Luke tilted his head. “You thought I was gonna keep this thing? Nah. It’s yours. You earned it.”
Charlie instantly shook her head and stepped toward him, holding it back out.
Luke sighed. “Princess Charlie... you’re my frontline. My tank. This skill’s way more useful for you than me.”
Still, she hesitated.
“I’d actually feel better if you took it,” he added. “It fits perfectly with your style. Death Knight... and now Pugilist. This thing was made for you.”
Charlie stared at the rune in silence, turning it slowly in her hands. Luke knew the real reason behind her reluctance. Ever since he’d almost died... she’d gotten more protective. To her, giving the rune to him meant keeping him safer.
And he could feel it.
But Luke saw it differently.
“The stronger you are... the less I have to fight. And the less I fight... the safer I’ll be.”
Charlie finally seemed to accept the logic. Still hesitant... but her fingers closed around the rune.
Luke stepped back, slipping behind one of the cracked stone pillars. “Alright. Just... crush it and activate the skill.”
She nodded. Raising the rune, Charlie stood completely still for a moment—staring at it, contemplating it. Then, with a firm squeeze, the rune shattered.
A surge of crimson light burst out, racing across her body for a split second—then vanished.
[Princess Charlie has acquired the Skill Rune: Berserker Flames]
Luke held his breath. “Alright... whenever you’re ready.”
Charlie inhaled deeply, like she was pulling something out of the air itself. Then exhaled... slow and steady. She glanced down at her hands—like she could feel the new flow of energy running through her veins.
And without warning—
BOOM.
An explosion of fire burst out from her, sending a suffocating wave of heat roaring through the entire church. Even behind the pillar, Luke flinched.
The aura that filled the air was brutal. Her footsteps echoed with weight, each one making the stone floor tremble beneath her. Flames wrapped around her body—licking the air, dancing wildly with every movement.
She advanced. Slow. Predatory. Every step oozed power and speed. The energy radiating from her roared like a wild beast set loose.
Luke peeked from behind the column, watching the scene unfold... and he felt every hair on his skin stand on end.
Charlie...
Charlie had become a true berserker knight.
And he’d just handed her a power that would change every battle from now on.
Forever.
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