Becoming the Dark Lord [LitRPG]

Chapter 395: No Time for Heroes



The air inside the castle seemed to hum, thick and tense. It didn't just come from the magic in the room, it came from all of us breathing together, from the wind slipping through the cracks, from metal shifting against armor. It was a steady pressure that made people hold their breath for a moment before letting it out.

The stone walls sent footsteps echoing back. Voices overlapped, short instructions, muffled sobs. Everyone's breathing blended together until it became a single background sound.

Luke didn't wait for anyone to think. He moved, pointed, pulled whoever was in the way. Action before hesitation. That was how he kept control.

"Form a line! Move! Now!"

His voice cut through the chaos. It stopped arguments, silenced questions, and forced everyone to move faster. It was a command that became focus. People turned, stunned. Some were still blinking like they'd just woken up; others already understood what it meant. Luke's tone sped up their movements and cut down hesitation.

The crowd pushed toward the portal. At first slowly, then with elbows and stumbling steps; people pressed together, makeshift carts, someone whispering a prayer under their breath. The march gathered momentum.

"It's not going to be enough time," Allison said. She took short breaths, calculating the distance to the portal and the pace of the crowd.

"I know." Luke didn't look at her. His eyes stayed fixed on the unstable tear in reality ahead.

Erza watched them with the expression of someone watching children struggle to solve an obvious riddle.

"You're all painfully amateur. This is a mana crystal."

She placed her hand on the throne's translucent surface. The throne vibrated with a faint glow; it wasn't for show, it was function. The people nearby felt the air shift and took a step back.

A glowing inscription formed across the crystal:

[Only two people may pass through the portal at a time.]

The message didn't just appear. It resonated, vibrating in the bones.

[Only three people may pass through the portal at a time.]

The messages appeared with pauses between them, as if the system were recalculating its limits.

"Pour mana into it and the limit expands," Erza said, as if explaining why water is wet.

She began to channel. The crystal pulsed, the light grew brighter, and the portal widened. People felt a wave of warmth, the air growing heavier where the energy gathered. It was work you could see.

The display shifted again:

[Only ten people may pass through the portal at a time.]

A collective breath moved through the room, relieved but still tense, because time was still running out.

Erza's jaw tightened. A bead of sweat rolled down her temple.

"That's the cap," she said, still holding the connection. "And it's draining me ten mana per second. I won't last long."

"Three minutes," Luke murmured, doing the math fast: the line, the distance to the portal, the time it took to cross. He counted steps in his head, added the possibility of someone falling. It was a dry calculation, without any drama.

"No one gets here instantly," Erza said. "They still have to walk to the portal."

She glanced at Eleanor.

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"You have mana?"

"Y-yes," Eleanor answered, voice unsteady but firm.

Erza released the crystal. Eleanor rushed forward, palms pressing against the surface. The portal steadied, its glow deepening again.

"Hurry up and line up, idiots! Leave already!" Erza shouted. It was rough, efficient. No one asked for politeness when the clock was running.

The first group stepped into the portal and vanished in a ripple. Then the next. And the next. The flow of bodies grew faster. Some shoved. Some cried. Some clutched children or makeshift bags or nothing at all. All of them carried the same thing:

Hope turned into urgency. It wasn't optimism, it was quick calculation: survive first, think later.

"Thank you, thank you!" they called as they passed, some without even looking back.

The room felt smaller with every second. Footsteps blurred into a single, continuous rush, a river of humanity trying to outrun the end of a world.

***

Time was moving fast. The portal pulsed unevenly, and every person who crossed left the one maintaining the channel a little weaker. Hands switched out, rotations happened in a rush, and the strain showed in their shoulders.

Eleanor rotated with others from Haven and Bastion to maintain the mana channel. Whenever someone released their hand, the glow flickered, the portal thinned, and the limit dropped back to only two people at a time.

[Estimated Time Until the End: 00 hours : 11 minutes : 23 seconds]

Outside the castle, the temperature plummeted. The wind cut like thin blades, carrying the smell of wet stone… and something else on the horizon. Something approaching. Something no one wanted to see.

"Hurry!" Erza called, her voice steady and sharp. "Or the ones behind you will die!"

The line crossed the bridge, went down the road between the trees, and disappeared into mist and snow. Around 1,800 people. Men, women, children, all with expressions worn down by the cold and the hurry. Entire families, elderly leaning on shoulders, soldiers half-carried by comrades, children wrapped in coats too large, clinging to whoever held them.

Parents ran while holding their children close, bending over them to shield them from the wind. Their hands were shaking, but no one let go.

"For a moment, I thought everyone would be dead," Luke said quietly, watching the stream of movement.

"This hell definitely looks like the kind of place that would do that," Evangeline muttered, managing a small, exhausted smile.

"Like a sick joke," Luke answered.

Erza studied the flow, her shoulders finally easing as she saw the pace hold.

"At this rate… eight more minutes, and this place will be empty."

She turned toward them. Her expression stayed composed, but her eyes carried something final. A goodbye spoken without words.

"This is where we part. I'll admit—it was almost fun, nearly dying with all of you."

She lifted the sides of her dress and offered a brief, graceful bow. Elegant, even standing in the ruins.

Anne mirrored the gesture. "Goodbye… friends…"

"Until the meeting," Luke said, though Erza and Anne were already walking away, back inside the castle. The feeling was unmistakable.

They had no intention of attending that meeting.

Mason rolled his shoulders as if finally releasing tension. "Well, now that the panic's over… nothing left to stick around for. Let's get out of here, yeah?"

Evangeline glanced toward the darkness beyond the bridge.

"Goodbye then, Tutorial Midnight Terror," she said, almost solemnly.

She let out a breath.

"I agreed to this because I was homeless. I had nothing. Literally nothing. I came here at eighteen. I'm leaving at twenty-six."

"Emotional about it?" Jack asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, absolutely," Evangeline replied, digging through her storage. She pulled out a gold bar like it was some cheap snack wrapper. "I came here with nothing and I'm leaving rich. What are eight years of suffering compared to the rest of my life in luxury? I'd sign up again. Goodbye hellhole, hello mansion."

She started jogging toward the portal, then spun around walking backward, wearing a smug, theatrical grin.

"I'll see you all at the reunion! I'll arrive in a limousine. With an entourage of gorgeous, shirtless bodyguards."

That was her farewell. She disappeared into the corridors, heading toward the throne room.

Jack and Mason looked to Luke and Allison.

"You two aren't going? I don't want to stay here for even one more second," Mason said.

"I leave when the last person is through," Luke replied. "I owe that to Angélica. And to myself."

Allison watched the distant line for a moment, silent.

"I owe this too," she said at last. "Not just to them. To myself. I'm staying until the last person gets out."

"Well… you two do what you want," Mason answered, not even trying to argue. "I'll see you at the reunion."

The phoenix knight turned and walked toward the portal.


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