Becoming the Dark Lord [LitRPG]

Luke was kneeling by the edge of the waterfall, scrubbing what could barely be called a shirt against the rocks. The fabric was torn almost beyond recognition—riddled with holes, crusted with dried blood, its seams frayed to the point of disintegration.

It clung to his hands like a memory that refused to be washed away. The only reason he hadn't tossed it aside was painfully practical: he didn't want to wander around half-naked in just his underwear, exposed to the cold air and whatever else this strange place might throw at him.

The bloodstains weren't coming out easily. No matter how hard he worked, they remained—stubborn, dark, embedded in the fabric like dried memories. Deep down, he knew washing it was pointless. If he ran into another fight—and he would—it'd be soaked again within minutes.

But the act itself, this small, mundane gesture of cleaning something ruined, helped in ways he couldn't quite explain. It gave him a rhythm to follow, a quiet focus. It calmed the noise. Even if only for a moment, it kept the worst thoughts at bay.

Am I going to turn into some kind of monster? Lose who I am... completely?

The question came again, softer this time. But he didn't have answers, so he simply stopped asking.

Instead, he slipped on the damp shirt and sat at the edge of the clear lake, water dripping down his back. A few fruits sat beside him—freshly picked from the trees nearby.

This place had changed.

The island—once shattered, fractured, hanging in a void like a forgotten shard—had slowly reconnected with the world around it. It was no longer floating in emptiness. It belonged somewhere again.

Trees had grown where there had been only dust. Mushrooms now peppered the forest floor like tiny lanterns. He'd seen butterflies. Fireflies blinking in the underbrush. Even a few squirrels darting from branch to branch, their presence a small but comforting sign of normalcy.

It felt alive again. Like the land itself had exhaled.

But one thing still lingered in the back of his mind.

"There's still one thing left..."

He opened his system screen.

Next to the "Titles" section was a flickering [?] symbol.

Luke exhaled. He already knew there was no turning back. Might as well see what he'd earned.

[Do you wish to unlock your title?]

"No... but like I have a choice. Just show me already."

[Unlocking your title...]

The screen flashed, and then came the new notification. Luke read it—then froze.

[Dark Lord] Master of the dark forces. Supreme commander of monsters, demons, and abyssal creatures. This title grants the authority to dominate and shape supernatural beings at will, commanding them as extensions of your will. The horde that follows you grows in strength with your presence alone.

(Bonus: +10 to all Attributes)

He blinked.

I actually got +10 to everything...?

A warm rush pulsed through his chest, spreading outward like lightning. He felt it immediately—his lungs expanding, muscles charging with renewed energy. The lingering fatigue from traveling was gone in seconds. His reflexes sharpened, his hearing grew more sensitive, and every inch of his body felt like it had been rebuilt.

He opened the system screen.

Name: Luke

Level: 2

Rank: F

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Class: [Assassin (Lvl 5)]

Race: Half-Demon

Profession: —

Titles: [Dark Lord]

Bloodline: [Bloodline of the Dark Demon]

Health Points (HP): 300 / 300

Mana Points (MP): 210 / 210

Stamina: 157 / 190

Stats:

Strength: 25

Agility: 33

Endurance: 19

Vitality: 30

Perception: 26

Intelligence: 21

Free Points: 0

He stared at the numbers.

That's… real.

Before the title, his Stamina had been just 90. And now he had earned another 100. That meant longer sprints, more stamina in combat, more endurance overall. Every stat had jumped. And Luke didn't just see the change—he felt it. Not like a boost from leveling up, but like his entire foundation had been upgraded.

Power. Real power. And he hadn't even taken a single step yet.

He usually gained +1 to all attributes whenever his race leveled up. Now he had received ten times that in a single moment. Even if it never happened again, that title alone had made him vastly stronger. His endurance had increased. His reflexes were sharper. Even his awareness—his ability to read a battlefield—felt enhanced.

For a moment, the thrill of it all distracted him from what really mattered.

Luke looked up at the cavern ceiling, as if trying to see through the rock and stone toward the surface far above.

"I still have to climb the entire dungeon... and deal with those prisoners waiting up top."

He knew they wouldn't just let him walk into the tutorial. He didn't know what kind of confrontation was coming. But one thing was certain—he wasn't staying here.

I've got a long way to go to reach the first floor. But at least now... I feel like I can handle it.

***

He stood in front of the double doors, chewing the last bite of an apple. A few fruits were tucked away in the traveler's satchel—the same one left behind in the gazebo by the previous victim. Luke pulled the key from his inventory. There was no keyhole, no obvious mechanism. But the moment he raised the key toward the doors... they opened.

Stone grinding against stone echoed through the chamber, and a wave of old dust spilled out like a sigh. He tucked the apple away and tightened his grip on the twin black kukris, ready for whatever might be waiting.

Darkness stared back at him. Then torches flared to life, one after the other, illuminating a long hallway. At the far end… an open space. A room. And beyond that, a massive staircase curling upward, vanishing into shadow. The inside of the dungeon.

Now the real journey begins.

A flicker of sadness crossed his face. He had accepted the idea that he'd be stuck in this place for at least a year. There was no way he'd make it to the portal in time to reach this year's tutorial. That meant climbing the dungeon slowly—floor by floor—and waiting for the next edition of the event.

They must be worried about me back home... But after a month with no word, he'd already be considered dead. Tutorials didn't usually take long. Days, sometimes weeks. In rare extreme cases, a few had lasted up to four months—but a full year inside a dungeon? No one would expect that. To the world, to the Baumann family, to anyone watching from the outside... Luke was gone.

I'm sorry.

[Unlocking shortcut. Please wait…]

A new notification appeared. Luke nearly jumped.

"A shortcut?!"

He heard it immediately—gears turning. That steady click-click-click, the sound of metal teeth grinding together. Then came the rush of air. A hiss of pressure releasing. Chains creaked. From the ceiling, something began to descend. Slowly.

A round platform, carved from black stone, lowered itself into the chamber like an ancient elevator. Runes glowed faintly along the edges. As it touched the ground, the gears locked into place. Luke stared. And understood.

"An elevator."

It looked old—carved entirely from stone, circular in shape, more like a gazebo than a machine. There was enough space inside for Luke to sit, maybe even lie down. At the center of the platform, embedded in a sculpted pedestal, was a glowing blue crystal.

[Pour your mana into the crystal to activate the elevator. Be warned: it only ascends.]

Pour mana? Luke stepped onto the platform and placed his hand on the crystal. He closed his eyes, imagined himself as a flowing river.

The crystal flared to life. Chains rattled. The elevator groaned… and began to rise. Slowly—but surely.

Am I really going to skip the entire dungeon?

A wave of emotion hit him. Relief. Hope. A flicker of joy. Maybe he could still reach this year's tutorial. Maybe—just maybe—he could go back to Earth, apologize to the Baumanns, and start searching for his mother properly, now with access to the multiverse and all the secrets locked behind the System.

As the platform rose, Luke pulled his hand away to test something. The elevator stopped mid-air, held in place.

Good. So it's safe… kind of.

He leaned out, cautiously.

"As long as I don't fall off."

He returned his hand to the crystal. The elevator resumed its climb. Now, with his increased mana pool thanks to the [Dark Lord] title, he had far more energy to sustain it. When it started getting low, he'd stop, rest, and wait for his natural regeneration to refill it.

Looking up again, he imagined the top. The portal. The end of the dungeon.

I'm finally moving forward again.

But just as that thought brought a quiet smile to his lips, something else sparked in the back of his mind. A detail he had dismissed earlier, buried under everything else.

What exactly does that title mean… when it says I became the master of dark forces and the absolute commander of monsters?

The moment the question formed, something stirred.

A new notification slammed into his vision—larger, more vivid than any before.

[WARNING: A UNIQUE SKILL HAS BEEN AWAKENED THROUGH YOUR DEMONIC BLOODLINE!]