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Becoming the Dark Lord - Chapter 108
🕑 Added 2025-06-14 23:00:03 +0000 UTCSomething massive stood in front of Luke. Towering, brutal, unmistakably alive. Its body rested on four powerful hind legs, with two front limbs shaped less like legs and more like arms—long, curved, bladed, and designed for one purpose. To kill. Its grass-green carapace gleamed under the cavern light, but its eyes were what locked him in place. Two enormous, glossy black orbs that seemed bottomless. Hollow. Starving. Two antennae twitched above its angular head, scanning, sensing.
It was a monster. A praying mantis scaled to nightmare proportions.
[Devourer Mantis (Captain Beast) – Lvl 28]
Luke swallowed, breath shallow, his voice barely a whisper. "Holy shit..."
The mantis screeched and lunged without hesitation. The hit came faster than thought, raw and brutal. A wall of force smashed into him, sending him skidding across the cavern floor. Skin tore. Bones rattled. He barely registered the pain before Charlie erupted from his soul, her form materializing beside him, fists already clenched.
He gasped, forcing himself upright as the mantis stormed forward. Each step sent tremors through the stone beneath him. Its shadow drowned the light, towering over them as it closed the distance.
A bladed limb carved through the air. Luke barely processed the motion before the shockwave alone lifted him from the ground. His body crashed and tumbled. Charlie was sent flying alongside him, her feet barely touching the ground before the momentum ripped her off balance.
The mantis never stopped. Both scythe-like arms slashed downward, carving through the air, cleaving dirt and stone as if it were cutting paper. A spray of debris exploded toward them.
Luke gritted his teeth, hands tightening around his kukris. Shadows pooled beneath his feet as he triggered Basic Dark Dash, darting in, aiming for the underside of its torso. But the timing was wrong. The mantis pivoted faster than something that size should be able to. Another strike crashed into him mid-movement, ripping him off his feet. His back hit the ground with a violent thud before a second blow slammed him sideways, snapping his body straight into the wall.
Charlie dashed forward again, but the mantis crossed its arms in a brutal defensive X. The clash detonated a pulse of air that hurled her back like a leaf caught in a storm.
Luke didn’t have time to think. He pushed off the wall, charged again, but a sound hit his ears. A thin, sharp hiss—the air itself fracturing. He shifted to dodge, instinct screaming, but too slow.
A blade pierced through his abdomen.
A strangled scream tore from his throat as the mantis wrenched its limb sideways, lifting him momentarily off the ground before tossing his body like discarded trash. He hit the floor, rolling, skidding, before coming to a stop against a broken slab of stone.
"Charlie..." Eyes blurry, breath ragged, Luke spotted it—a tunnel, half-hidden on the far side of the cavern. His pulse surged. There. A way out.
Muscle memory overtook pain. Charlie vanished back into his soul in an instant as he sprinted toward the opening.
Behind him, the mantis screeched, its massive frame barreling forward, limbs tearing through rock without resistance. A scythe-arm came down in front of him, hooks catching into his ribs as it dragged him backwards with a savage jerk.
The impact launched him off the ground again. His body tumbled through the dirt. Another limb hammered down, stabbing through flesh, pinning him to the stone.
Pain exploded through his body. A scream ripped out, uncontrolled. He twisted, kukris flashing, desperate to deflect the next hit, but metal shrieked under the weight of the mantis’s blade. The defense crumpled. The creature tore its limb free, flesh tearing open in its wake.
Luke forced himself upright. One foot stumbled forward. His vision pulsed, narrowing, the tunnel still in sight—close but unreachable. His body begged to shut down. He tried to run.
But the mantis was already there.
A sideways strike came from nowhere, smashing him into the wall with the force of a wrecking ball.
And then it didn’t stop.
The mantis closed the distance, towering over him, and began pounding. Relentless, mechanical, brutal. Blades, fists, claws, raining down in a rhythm of destruction. Each blow felt like an earthquake, driving him deeper into the stone with every strike.
His ribs collapsed. His arms gave out. Blood filled his mouth, pouring from torn flesh. Cracks splintered through the rock beneath him. His body was no longer a shape but a ruin—barely holding together under the barrage.
Above him, the mantis loomed. Saliva dripped from its jagged mandibles. Its mouth opened wider than it should, revealing not just teeth, but rows of them, spiraling inward, lining the throat itself. A design made for one thing—consuming prey alive.
It crouched. Ready to swallow him whole.
Panic surged. Dying here wouldn’t be fast. He’d be chewed alive. Piece by piece. Still conscious. Still breathing.
Fingers shaking, vision flickering, Luke pulled both kukris and hurled them with everything he had left. The blades spun, one striking dead center into the mantis’s eye.
The creature shrieked, stumbling back, its head jerking away from the hit. But it recovered instantly. A hind leg kicked out with brutal precision, connecting with Luke’s torso. His body lifted off the ground, twisted midair, then crashed into the wall like a ragdoll.
Something inside tore. Blood flooded his lungs. His stomach convulsed. Organs crushed against each other like wet pulp. His body spasmed, twitching on reflex, nerves misfiring.
Darkness edged into his vision. Limbs numb. Pain becoming distant static.
But he was still breathing. Somehow. For now.
The mantis let out another screech, jaws snapping open and shut, tasting the air as if imagining how his flesh would feel between its teeth.
It surged forward, faster than before.
Luke forced his broken hands to move. Charlie erupted from his soul, her fist crashing into the mantis’s leg. It staggered, not from pain, but from the sheer force. Enough. Just enough to buy seconds.
Luke didn’t waste them. He ran. Or limped. Or crawled. His body barely responded. Blood spilled down his throat with every breath. Every step set fire to his nerves.
But he kept going.
Charlie followed, glancing back, eyes locked on the monster forcing its way into the tunnel. The mantis shrieked in frustration, blades screeching against stone as it wedged its massive frame into the passage, its limbs tearing through rock as it chased them down.
And then Luke saw it. A gap. A narrow opening between the floor and the wall. Tight. Cramped. Something barely wide enough for someone small or for someone without a physical body.
Without wasting a second, Luke pulled Charlie back into his soul. A split second later, he turned into mist, slipping through the crack just as the mantis’s blade sliced through the air behind him, missing by inches.
His form dropped into the hole, tumbling down through darkness. The space was cold. Damp. Claustrophobic. The instant his body touched the ground, the mist broke, and he was forced back into solid form.
A violent cough wracked his chest. Blood splattered onto the stone. Pain hit him like a wave, sharp and suffocating, as his wounds flared—raw, burning, screaming beneath his skin. Another cough followed, shallow and ragged, every breath scraping against shredded muscle.
Fumbling, Luke reached into his inventory and pulled out a potion. His hands trembled as he yanked the cork free and forced the liquid down his throat. It was his second since arriving in orc territory. Only one left now. The potion slid down hot, almost scalding, and his throat convulsed in protest, threatening to spit it back up. But it stayed down. And slowly, the effect took hold.
Warmth radiated from his chest. Flesh knit itself together, piece by piece. The bleeding slowed. His pulse steadied. Life crawled back into his broken frame, sluggish but certain.
Above him, the mantis shrieked. Its voice echoed through the stone, furious, searching. But the entrance was too narrow. The beast clawed at the walls, scraping and pounding, but it couldn’t follow. He was safe. For now.
Luke forced himself upright, wincing as fresh pain shot through his ribs. He scanned the area around him. The ceiling was lower here, the space tighter—another maze of tunnels stretching into the shadows. But what caught his eye wasn’t the passage ahead. It was the floor.
Bones. Dozens of them.
Animal skulls. Orc skulls. Femurs, jawbones, broken rib cages. Splintered faces crushed in half. A graveyard. No, worse than that—a feeding ground.
Charlie rematerialized beside him without a sound. Her form shifted out of the mist, stance low, shoulders tense, eyes sweeping the dark like a guard posted at the edge of a battlefield.
Luke stayed still. Focused on breathing. Let the potion do its work. Bit by bit, the pain dulled. The adrenaline drained out of his system, leaving behind the full weight of his battered body.
Only then did he open his system interface. The notification for a new item still blinked in the corner.
[Boots of Sahloknir, Orc Captain (Rare)
Description: Heavy leather boots. Incredibly durable.
Requirements: Level 15+ in any Fighter class.
Bonus: +10 Strength.]
Without hesitation, Luke tapped confirm. The boots materialized instantly—on Charlie.
Pulling up her status window, he scanned her stats. This wasn’t the time to hold back. Optimization didn’t matter anymore. Balance didn’t matter.
Survival did.
Name: Princess Charlie
Level: 11
Rank: F
Class: [Death Knight (Lvl 19)]
Race: Skeleton
Titles: [Servant of the Dark Lord]
Health Points (HP): 547/700
Mana Points (MP): 317/390
Stamina: 537/860
Stats:
Strength: 80 (120)
Agility: 48
Endurance: 61 (86)
Vitality: 70
Perception: 32
Intelligence: 39
Free Points: 3
He distributed the points quickly.
Stats Updated (Princess Charlie):
Strength: 80 (120) -> 82 (122)
Vitality: 70 -> 71
Free Points: 3 -> 0
Health Points (HP): 547/700 -> 557/710
A deep rumble echoed through the cave—reverberating as if the stone itself was breathing. Luke snapped alert.
He still felt the potion’s effects—magical liquid rushing through his veins, stitching tissue together. But the wound in his gut was nasty. Inside, his organs twisted, shifting back into place like a crushed plastic bottle being forcibly unfolded.
His face twisted in pain.
Despite it, he knew—he couldn’t waste time.
Luke opened his system interface. He had been sitting on a stack of free points—his emergency card. And now, in this dark, living cavern... it was time to play it.
Name: Luke
Level: 11
Rank: F
Class: [Demonic Assassin (Lvl 23)]
Race: Half-Demon
Profession: -
Titles: [Dark Lord]
Bloodline: [Bloodline of the Dark Demon]
Health Points (HP): 639/1070
Mana Points (MP): 328/690
Stamina: 419/560
Soul Fragments: 28/1000
Stats:
Strength: 109
Agility: 109 (144)
Endurance: 36 (56)
Vitality: 107
Perception: 113
Intelligence: 69
Free Points: 7
Seven free points.
Luke took a deep breath. Decision time.
He needed more than brute force. The mantis was too fast—fast enough to blur out of reality. If he wanted to survive, he had to evolve beyond his body. He had to sharpen his very senses.
Stats Updated:
Agility: 109 (144) -> 110 (145)
Endurance: 36 (56) -> 38 (58)
Perception: 113 -> 117
Free Points: 7 -> 0
Stamina: 419/560 -> 429/570
The response was immediate. Pressure bloomed through his muscles. Breathing eased. His senses stretched outward. Every sound in the cave now had texture, weight, direction.
But the tension didn’t ease. It got worse.
A grotesque sound vibrated through the cavern walls—a wet gargle, like something choking on meat and cartilage at the same time.
Luke already had his kukris in hand as he crept toward the edge of the tunnel.
Down in the chamber he’d just escaped, he saw it.
The mantis.
The monster was devouring the orc captain’s corpse. Not chewing. Not tearing. Swallowing. Whole. Like a starving bird.
Luke could hear it—the crunch of bones snapping inside the creature’s throat. And that alone was enough to confirm what he already knew.
He was trapped. The monster wouldn’t let him move freely through the cave. He couldn’t explore. Couldn’t breathe. The mantis was faster, stronger, deadlier.
It would eat him alive.
Luke glanced around his tiny, suffocating hideout. No light. No easy route. Only cold tunnels, wet stone... and death, waiting with blades sharpened.
That was it.
Either he found a way through these unknown passages or he signed his own death sentence.
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