Becoming the Dark Lord [LitRPG]

The creature stepped out from the darkness of the Forgotten Temple. Much larger than any human. Entirely black. A suffocating aura wrapped around its body like a living veil. Two curved horns rose from its head, and in its hands... a colossal sword.

Luke stared, and for a second, his mind nearly broke.

[Eighth General of Death (Servant of the Dark Lord) – Lvl ???]

This wasn't a monster. It was a nightmare.

[Welcome to the third and final challenge: Duel with the King]

No time to think.

"ROOOOOOAR!"

The monster flared yellow—it activated a skill. With both hands gripping the sword, the giant charged. Each step shattered the ground beneath it. Trees exploded like matchsticks. Dust surged into the air. The sound of its sprint was like thunder rolling through the earth.

Luke bolted sideways, instincts screaming. The creature turned and followed. With a single swing, the massive blade slammed into the ground—

BOOOOOOM!

Luke wasn't hit directly, but the shockwave sent him flying like a ragdoll. He smashed through branches, slammed into a tree, then crashed against the temple's stone wall. His head rang. Something warm dripped down his face. Blood.

"ROOOOAAAAAR!"

He staggered, ran without thinking. No plan. No direction. Gasping, desperate, he rushed back into the temple. His eyes searched the statues—just like before. All of them were pointing. Toward the throne.

And then they spoke.

"The Demon must be fed."

The voices echoed like a funeral chant.

Before Luke could process it—

CRAAACK!

A section of the wall burst apart, stone and dust flying. The boss stepped through. Sword in hand. That same golden aura igniting around him. It was the same skill—the charge.

The demon braced himself. Feet planted. Sword tilted forward. A pulse of energy wrapped around him, trembling the air.

"AAAAARRRGH!" The roar shook the entire temple. He dashed in a straight line.

Luke saw the attack coming and dove to the ground. The blade screamed overhead—
BOOOOM!

The boss ripped through the temple interior and crashed into the far wall.

Dust. Vibration. Silence.

Luke lay on the ground, chest heaving, his mind reeling as he scrambled to understand what the statues meant. He pushed himself up and sprinted to the throne. Behind it, etched into the stone wall, were ancient carvings: the demon seated on the throne, kneeling figures before him. Between them, an animal offered. A pool of blood beneath it.

The Demon must be fed. A sacrifice.

Luke's stomach turned.

"Where the hell am I supposed to find a sacrifice?!"

But there was no time to think. The monster rose from the rubble, sword raised, that golden aura surging again. The charge skill reactivated.

"ROOOOAAAAR!"

Luke tried to escape along the side, but even the shockwave from the sword swing hurled him. He slammed into a wall and crumpled. His head spun. He tried to stand—then saw the boss approaching.

A massive boot was the last thing he saw before the impact.

Darkness.

Pain.

Cracking bones.

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Luke hit the floor, bounced twice, and slid across the stone. He tried to push himself up, but his arm... it was broken. Bones exposed. His hand... crushed.

"AAAHHH!"

The scream tore from his throat before he even registered the pain.

The creature closed in with heavy steps. Luke tried to crawl away, but a brutal backhand slammed him against the wall. And then came the glow—that yellow light again.

He's going to charge!

Luke barely had time to react—

FOOOOOM!

The monster blasted through the temple wall like a missile. The entire structure buckled.

Luke was only grazed, but it was enough. His arm was severed. He hit the ground screaming, pain detonating through his nerves like acid. Blood poured from the wound, hot and endless.

"ROOOAAAR!"

The boss's roar echoed from outside.

Luke trembled. Tears blurred his vision, mixing with the blood on his face. But he stood—

Dizzy. Crying. Limping.

He ran out the gaping hole, stumbling into the jungle's half-light. And then he saw them: the kobolds, still frozen, still in trance.

"The sacrifice!"

Luke hurled himself forward with everything he had left. Blood leaked from his side with every step, leaving a trail behind him. The pain screamed louder than his thoughts. He grabbed one kobold by the tail and began dragging it back toward the temple, each movement agonizing.

"ROOOAR!"

BOOOM!

Another wall exploded just to his right. The monster was coming—through the trees, yellow light flaring. Destruction followed.

It was charging.

Luke hauled the kobold with every shred of strength his remaining arm could offer. His blood painted the temple floor.

BAM!

The boss's blade slammed into the earth behind him. The shockwave hurled Luke forward like a ragdoll. He slid across the stone, nearly blacking out.

But he got up.

One arm.

One breath.

Dragging the kobold toward the throne. The floor slick with blood—his and the monster's. The throne waited.

Luke stood before it, shaking, covered in gore. He pulled a knife from his holster and, without hesitation, stabbed it into the kobold's throat.

Blood spilled.

[Receiving Sacrifice…]

"Come on, come on..." he muttered, barely able to stay upright.

The heavy footsteps echoed again, closer now.

[Unworthy Sacrifice]

Luke froze.

Terror. Complete and raw.

His hand trembled. His knees buckled.

He turned.

The boss was inside, stepping past the pillars like a black shadow. It had put away its sword. Picked up a large chunk of stone. Crushed it in its fist. Dust and gravel spilled from its hand. Then it raised its arm again.

Luke understood.

He ran.

BAM!

Shards of stone tore through the air. They punched through his flesh.

Luke collapsed, screaming. The air vanished from his lungs.

The monster's footsteps grew louder—slower now. Deliberate. Ceremonial.

It picked up another rock, bigger this time. Jagged and grotesque.

It was going to crush him.

Luke crawled and threw himself through a hole in the wall, falling back into the forest.

"ROOOOOOAR!"

The roar followed him from within the temple.

He stood barely, his body on the verge of collapse. Reaching for his face, he felt it—a shard buried in his right eye. He ripped it out with a scream. His vision went black on that side. The other eye wasn't much better, blurred with tears, blood, and pain. He tried to wipe it clean, but everything swam.

Then he looked down. His calf was gone. Just bone, jagged and twisted, the flesh ripped away. He limped—broken, shattered—but moving.

Luke ran, or something like it. Staggering. Stumbling. Forward. Ahead, the kobolds still stood in trance. He scanned them fast and picked the biggest one, the sturdiest—the only one that might be a worthy sacrifice.

He started dragging the kobold. An impossible task, but he knew this was his last chance. His body wouldn't survive another attempt.

And then he heard it.
Footsteps.

The boss was emerging from the temple again, slower now, measured—like an executioner who wanted the condemned to hear each beat of the funeral drum. He carried two stones, one in each hand.

Luke heard the air shift.

THUUUUUUUM!

One of the boulders crashed into the ground with devastating force. Then it rolled, grinding across the dirt, crushing every other kobold in its path.

"No, no, damn it!" Luke screamed, voice breaking.

The last kobold was in his hands. The only one left. The only hope. He tightened his grip and kept pulling. Blood poured like rain. The ground trembled. And the demon... kept coming.

Luke dragged the kobold, slipping in his own blood. Each step was a victory against death. He reached the broken wall and threw himself through the gap, pulling the creature with him.

The boss's arm lunged. That black hand stretched through the air, fingers clawing for his neck—

But Luke passed through just in time.

He landed hard inside the throne room, kobold in tow.

"Come on, come on, FASTER!" he begged, voice cracking, more prayer than command. He dragged the kobold to the center of the throne. For a terrifying moment, doubt stabbed through him—what if the boss had hit it?

But then he saw. The kobold was still breathing. Intact.

"This is it! The last one! TAKE IT!" Luke shouted, throat burning. He raised his knife... and killed the kobold.

The blade sank in. The blood spilled. A red pool spread across the ancient stone floor.

[Receiving Sacrifice…]

Luke stared at the message, panting, kneeling, soaked in blood and ash.

Footsteps. That heavy, dreadful sound returned. The boss entered the throne room again. Massive. Unstoppable. Carrying two stones. That pulsing black aura radiated off his skin.

Luke looked back at the system screen...

[Unworthy Sacrifice]

The words struck like a bullet to the chest.

He collapsed to his knees. The knife slipped from his fingers, landing with a dull splash, swallowed by the blood on the floor.

Silence.

He stayed there... frozen. Drained. Empty.

It was over.

No more sacrifices.

No more hope.

No way out.

The boss's steps echoed across the chamber—slow and inevitable.

Luke looked up. The monster passed through the shattered entrance like a king returning to his throne. He raised his arm. One of the boulders ready to deliver the final blow.

This was it.

The end of Luke.