Becoming the Dark Lord - Chapter 78

Atop the shattered husk of a forgotten building, amidst the debris of a war long lost to time, it stood—a waking nightmare clad in obsidian armor that drank in the moonlight like a void.

A Midnight Warden.

“No... way...” someone whispered, the words barely escaping their lips.

The air shifted—grew heavy, oppressive. As if the night itself held its breath.

Then—

It dropped.

CRAAAAASH.

The impact shattered the earth beneath it. Concrete split like brittle bone. Dust rose in clouds. And the world... changed.

Its head turned with mechanical precision, the motion slow, deliberate—inevitable. Then a glow—red, sinister—bloomed behind the Warden’s visor like a cursed sunrise.

“ROOOOOOOOAR!”

The sound split the silence like a blade. A monstrous bellow, not merely heard but felt in bone and blood.

And then—chaos.

The Warden vanished—gone in a blink, a blur in the dark.

BOOM!

Both fists slammed into the earth like judgment itself. A shockwave erupted in a violent ring, tearing through the group like a hurricane of steel and stone.

Luke flew. Flung like a doll. His back hit a wall—CRACK—and the pain stole his breath. His spine cried out in protest. Vision swam. He gasped, choked, tried to move—failed. His fingers scraped at the dirt. Useless.

Still, he looked up—and there it was. Rising from the crater, its massive form cast in silhouette. One arm was drenched in blood—fresh, thick, and still warm. And beneath it... a body. Someone—crushed. A limp shape mangled beneath the armored colossus.

Luke’s heart seized.

Who—?

“Allison?!” he croaked.

“I’m okay!” came her voice—strained, pained, but alive.

Relief surged like sunlight breaking stormclouds. But it didn’t last.

“ROOOOOAR!”

The Warden turned. Its weapon—more pillar than lance—rose. And there, still impaled upon it—Johnny. His body twitched weakly, coughing blood, eyes wide with pain and disbelief.

The archers let loose.

CLANG. CLANG. CLANG.

The arrows bounced off uselessly. The armor didn’t even dent.

The Warden yanked Johnny free like plucking a weed. Then flung him.

SPLAT.

A spray of crimson burst across the wall.

Silence. A heartbeat.

Then it was gone again.

Reappeared beside a swordsman.

CRACK.

One punch.

Chest imploded.

A mage raised his staff. Too slow.

BOOM.

Skull shattered like glass.

Another tried to run. Too late. The lance tore through him, spine to sternum.

Luke hurled his kukris in desperation.

TING. TING.

No effect. Not even a scratch. The Warden didn’t even glance his way.

Angelica screamed. Charged in. Her axe blazed with red mana. She leapt, brought it down on its helm.

BAM.

Nothing.

The Warden didn’t flinch.

She rolled back, panting.

“EVERYONE—RUN! I’ll hold it!”

“ROOOOOOAR!”

It lunged.

Faster than thought. Blinding.

Luke froze.

Fight? Run?

He hesitated.

That armor—flawless. No weakness.

How do you kill something like this?

Angelica tried to parry. Mistimed. The shaft of the lance slammed into her chest. She flew, crashed into a wall. Crumpled.

An archer dropped to his knees, still firing through tears.

“DIE!!” someone screamed.

The Warden turned—eyes burning. Then—

Dash. Strike.

THUNK.

She didn’t even scream. The lance pierced her clean through. Lifted her. Tossed her.

Massacre. Blood. Screams. Death.

Luke surged forward. Dark Dash. Kukris ready.

Almost—

The Midnight Warden suddenly vanished.

Behind him.

BAM!

A boot slammed into his back.

BOOM!

A fist caught him mid-air.

Darkness.

Then—pain. He awoke, gasping, tried to crawl.

CRACK!

A boot crushed his arm.

“AAAAAARGH!”

His scream tore the air. Bone shattered. His vision blurred, breath ragged.

Still—he saw her.

Allison. Running toward the Warden, katana glowing.

She leapt—

SLASH.

Steel met steel.

Then—

BOOOOOOM!

A shockwave exploded from the Warden’s fist. She flew backward, crashed through stone.

It raised its head.

And screamed—

“ROOOOOOOOOOOAR!”

People ran. Screamed. Magic detonated in every direction—wild, desperate, no control.

A massive spear ripped through the air—VROOOM!

Another body dropped. Impaled. Dead before they hit the ground.

Some just froze. Dropped to their knees. Couldn’t breathe. Fear did the killing before the Warden got to them.

Luke stumbled forward, half-blind, blood pouring from his mouth.

His left arm—

Gone.

He kept moving. Tripped. Crawled.

Allison.

She was down. A wide pool of blood growing around her.

The illusion was gone. No mask. No tricks.

It was her. Really her.

Luke dropped to his knees and pressed two fingers to her neck.

A heartbeat. Weak. But there.

Behind him, the slaughter didn’t stop.

The Warden blinked across the battlefield—one second here, another kill. Gone. Then behind someone else—another strike. Breaking. Tearing. Erasing.

Then—

Charlie rose from his shadow. Silent. Focused.

She lifted Allison like she weighed nothing and threw her over Luke’s back.

Then—

“ROOOOOAR!”

The monster spotted them.

No one else was standing. No resistance. No hope. Just blood—and them. Three survivors.

The Warden dashed forward.

“Charlie!” Luke shouted, barely able to speak. “Buy us time!”

The knight didn’t hesitate. She blinked into his path, spectral energy rippling around her. The lance lunged—

CLANG!

Her Iron Fist caught it mid-strike. Forced it wide.

Luke ran.

Allison on his back. Blood soaking into his clothes. His own wounds bleeding freely. Left arm: useless.

Basic Dark Dash? No good.

Not while carrying someone.

So he ran.

He dismissed his kukris; they vanished into the inventory.

Behind him—

The sound of war.

Metal. Stone. Screams.

Charlie fought alone.

BOOM!

A blow launched her across the street. She hit a wall—hard.

But stood again.

Broken, but unbending.

Luke didn’t stop. He couldn’t.

He sprinted through the shattered streets of the Wild Zone.

Every step—survival.

Where? Forest? Ruins? Shelter?

No time to think. Just run.

Hell had arrived.

And he was still moving. Still breathing.

The forest was his only hope.

He plunged into the trees.

Branches tore at him. Roots nearly tripped him. The pain was constant. The weight of Allison—agonizing.

Then—

FWOOOM!

A spear tore through the air behind him. He dodged, barely. It clipped his shoulder.

He didn’t scream. He didn’t have the air for it.

Charlie appeared—

A blur of bone-white vengeance against the shadows.

She clashed with the monster again.

Luke kept running—through brush, over stone, across old roots.

His legs burned.

The sound of trees collapsing behind him.

He’s coming.

Luke heard something.
Distant. Faint.

A sound.

He followed it.

The forest thinned.

A cliffside.

Below—

The Orc Forest.

Far beyond that—

Light. The Safe Zone. Flickering. Distant.

But reachable.

He turned—just in time to see it.

Two red eyes. Gleaming between trees. Heavy steps.

The Warden.

Moonlight carved his silhouette in steel.

“ROOOOAR!”

It wasn’t a scream.

It was a sentence.

Luke froze. His lungs refused to move. His heart slammed against his ribs.

The Warden raised his spear.

It was over.

But then—

Something stepped out from the trees.

Charlie.

She was still alive. But broken. Her armor cracked, dented, torn. One arm missing entirely. Her skeletal frame staggered under its own weight.

But she stood. And walked.

Each step a battle.

She placed herself between the monster and Luke. Raised her sword with trembling fingers. No words. No fear. Only duty.

The Warden roared—a sound that bent trees, split silence—and charged.

The spear lashed out, sharp enough to split mountains.

Charlie held the line.

Steel clashed. Bone cracked.

She was thrown. Dragged. Slammed against the earth again and again.

Luke tried to run. To move.

But it wasn’t a fight. It was cruelty. The Warden wasn’t just killing her—he was sending a message.

Charlie fell. Tried to rise.

The boot came down.

THUMP.

Again.

THUMP.

Again.

THUMP.

Until she was nothing but shattered pieces and silent fragments.

[Your servant Princess Charlie has been slain in combat]

Luke couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Only watch.

The Warden turned. Faceless helm locked onto him.

Then—gone. Reappeared beside him.

CRACK!

Pain exploded in his skull. He flew, spun through the air, slid across the dirt. He hit the ground with a crunch.

Allison slipped from his arms in the chaos.

Blood trickled down his temple. His vision blurred. The world tilted.

He tried to rise.

Too slow.

Too late.

The Warden approached Allison. One step. Another.

He raised his foot—

A crushing stomp.

NO.

Luke moved.

One last burst of mana.

Basic Dark Dash.

He blinked forward—

A shadow through the trees. Spun with the last of his strength. One arm left. One blade.

Demon Blade Dance.

The kukri carved the air in an arc of pure intent.

CLANG—SHHHK!

It scraped through the black armor. Not deep—

But it cut.

It cut!

The Warden stopped. And screamed.

“ROOOOOOAR!!”

The entire forest shuddered.

Red light erupted across his body.

From his inventory, he drew—

A sword.

Massive. Radiating with crimson energy. Each pulse was a heartbeat of death.

Luke’s thoughts vanished. He grabbed Allison’s limp body.

The sword rose.

It fell.

BOOOOM.

The ground shattered. Cracks split the cliffside. Earth crumbled.

Luke didn’t wait. Didn’t think.

He leapt—

Over the edge.

Into the abyss.

Allison in his arms.

The dark swallowed them whole.

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