Becoming the Dark Lord [LitRPG]

The hall was almost completely dark, lit only by the unstable reflections of the crystals. But Luke saw everything, not with his eyes, but with his demon perception, sharpened in the absence of light. The darkness gave him an edge.

[You received the Light Body buff!]

**Your body becomes lighter, retaining its original strength.**

For a brief moment, Luke's body glowed, then the energy dissipated like smoke. In the distance, Jack and Anne emerged from the shadows, silently conjuring magical circles.

[You received the Warrior's Protective Aura buff!]
**Your attacks now have a 10% efficiency boost.**
**Your body has become more resistant.**

More light flooded the space, spells forming, the air vibrating with accumulated power.

[You received the Lumberjack's Talent buff!]
**Your blades are sharper.**
**Your cuts are faster.**
**Your endurance has increased.**

[You received the Maid's Love buff!]
**Your agility has increased.**
**Your stamina consumes less energy.**

**Your body regenerates slowly.**
**Your mind has become sharper.**
**20% of the damage you take will be transferred to the maid.**

Luke took a deep breath. His body felt weightless, yet full of strength. His muscles responded with perfect precision, and even the sound of the weapons felt different, clearer, sharper. The kukri and dagger felt like nothing in his hands; a flick of his wrist was enough to make them sing through the air. It was like an endless flow of energy, as if he had drunk from the very fire itself. His body pulsed in harmony with each heartbeat.

He jumped. The archangel charged forward in the same split second, the spear flying straight toward him. Luke stepped onto the threads woven by Erza's magic and unleashed the Demonic Blade Dance. A shadow mirrored his movement behind him, the living reflection of his fury. The archangel threw a spear, then another, and another. They floated around like stone serpents before speeding toward him. Luke ran over the threads, dodging and destroying each one. The sound of the impacts echoed like contained thunder.

One kukri was launched, a silver arc cutting through the air. The blade aimed for the archangel's face, which closed his four wings like a shield. But when they opened, Luke was already there, dancing through the air, the blades slashing at the creature's body.

The Midnight King roared. Black threads appeared around him, trying to bind him, but he tore through them with his wings and advanced. Luke was yanked by new threads, swiftly pulled back. In his hand, the bow formed in a flash. He drew mana into each arrow until the energy began to collapse, then released them one after another as unstable arrows of power tore through the air and exploded against the enemy.

"STAY STILL!"

The shout echoed as Luke vanished in a leap, dodging through a thread of time. The archangel collided with a pillar, shattering it in two. Luke landed on top of him, striking one of the wings. The impact sent the monster crashing to the ground. Luke reinforced his body with stamina and dove back into the dance, the two blades moving as extensions of his own nerves. The archangel's spear tried to reach him, but Luke was no longer a fixed target, just a streak of motion.

Additional spears appeared above them, falling in a steady stream, hitting the ground and cracking the floor, but Luke dodged them all. The sound of their cuts was constant, rhythmic, almost musical. The creature, cornered, folded in on itself, forming four wings, its body pulsing with light. Luke continued to attack in circles, spinning. Each strike sent vibrations through the air.

When the archangel tried to take flight, Luke leapt and grabbed its leg. A flash of blue streaked across the ceiling as Allison's ice projectiles struck the creature, followed by a dark cloud of shadows conjured by Evangeline that engulfed the area. The archangel crashed violently to the ground, creating a crater. Its body, covered in wounds, still smoldered. It stood up and then teleported away in an instant.

Luke spun, searching. A blow came from behind. The impact hurled him forward, his feet sliding across the floor. Pain shot up his spine. The archangel's wings unfurled. From them, black, razor-sharp feathers launched out. They flew with inhuman force, striking Luke like a gale-force wind. Each one felt like a spear. He was thrown back, his body covered in cuts.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

"Come, come kill me, bastard! Come!"

"You think I didn't notice?" The archangel's voice trembled with fury. "You're trying to push me away! You want my future host to escape this world!"

In that moment, Luke sprinted straight ahead, his body surging with stamina and mana. Each step left a flash in the air. He used Dark Dash without pause, disappearing and reappearing with every movement. The knives in his hands turned into streaks of light cutting through the darkness.

Spears flew at him—dozens, maybe hundreds—but Luke moved with inhuman precision. Each dodge was like a gust of wind, each rotation a chance to counterattack. The ground cracked under the impact of the missed spears, stone fragments raining around him.

"I grabbed the bastard!" Erza shouted, clinging to the archangel in the air and forcing him down.

"What?" The archangel responded, disbelief heavy in his voice.

In that instant, Erza's body began to harden. Petrification veins crawled up her arms like trails of glass. She turned to stone before she could complete her movement. From the floor, shadowy arms rose in swarms, grabbing the Midnight King from every side. The creature roared, trying to break free. Erza was pulled away by threads, dragging her out of the magic's area of effect.

Luke kneeled, pulling the bow from his inventory. The air around him twisted. He drew the Beast Lord's Fang Arrow, the shaft humming as it absorbed his mana. The archangel thrashed inside the web of shadows. Each movement sent a wave of force through the ground, shattering it. The sound was deafening. But before the archangel could react, a blinding light appeared from above.

Something fell from the ceiling with the force of thunder—a massive fire-fist, descending like judgment itself. It was Charlie's epic skill. The strike hit the archangel squarely, and the explosion engulfed the entire hall. The fire spread like a living cloak.

The scream that came from within the blaze wasn't human. Moments later, another fist crashed down, doubling the impact. The Midnight King was shoved into the ground, surrounded by flames.

Luke kept his bow raised, channeling mana, his gaze fixed. The heat was suffocating; the air burned in his lungs. The bowstring trembled under the power accumulating within it. But then, the fire parted—a violent wind swept through the hall. The shadowy arms dissolved, the flames were extinguished, and everything fell silent.The torches around the room flared to life at once. Time seemed to stop. The archangel was standing again. His skin burned, his wings scorched, but his eyes were those of a living beast. He advanced.

The speed was unreal; a flash, and the sound came only after. Evangeline was the first to be hit. The spear pierced her stomach, and her body was thrown back, slamming into a pillar. The metallic sound of the impact echoed through the hall. She didn't have time to react; her body quickly covered in gray cracks, turning to stone in an instant.

The archangel vanished and reappeared behind Jack. A punch. His body turned to stone mid-air before it even touched the ground. Allison screamed, unleashing the dragon's breath, a beam of ice that sliced through the space between them. The cold filled the hall for a moment, but then everything stopped. The spell froze in midair, and Allison turned to stone at the same time.

Anne tried to run. The shadow of the king loomed over her. She was hurled against a pillar; half of her body turned to stone before she could even scream. Luke tried to react, moving on instinct, but the chaos was total. The archangel's spear rose, about to strike down Anne, already fallen.

Then something moved. A figure launched forward, Erza Grimhart. The impact made the sound of the world vanish for an instant. The spear pierced her chest. Her body began to turn to stone, slowly, from the bottom up.

"Goodbye... my... doll," Erza murmured.

And then the statue was complete. Consumed by fury, the archangel threw a punch. The stone shattered entirely, fragments flying in every direction, tinkling like glass as they fell. Anne froze. Her eyes lost between horror and desperation. She tried to stand, clutching her sword, but her body refused to obey. The spell caught her, and she, too, turned to stone.

One by one, they fell. Before Charlie could be hit, Luke called her back into his soul.

"Now, there are no more interruptions!" the king said, his voice echoing like a resounding thrum through the castle. But he wasn't speaking to Luke.

The archangel walked over to Allison's statue. He grabbed it with one hand, his wings spread wide. A powerful beat lifted a gust of wind. Then, he flew toward the ceiling, tearing through the stones and opening a path to the sky. The throne, attached to the chain, was dragged along.

And then, silence.

Only Luke remained there, surrounded by the statues of those who had fought beside him. Footsteps echoed behind him. He turned. Allied soldiers were entering formation, crossing the ruined corridor. Among them, Eleanor. Her gaze met Luke's, then scanned the hall, the statues of Evangeline, Jack, Anne, the shattered remains of Erza.

The air smelled of dust and defeat.

"It's over," Eleanor said, her voice cracked. "We lost."