Becoming the Dark Lord [LitRPG]

Luke lay still among the leaves, hidden by low vegetation, when the forest finally opened up before him. And what he saw stole the breath from his lungs. There was an abyss. Black. Endless. Crushing. It wasn't just the absence of light; it was a presence, a darkness that felt alive. Looking into it gave the sensation of being watched by something ancient. As if the void itself had eyes and they were staring straight at him. His mind screamed one single truth: down there… there is nothing. Nothing but infinity.

Suspended above that abyss, just shy of touching the void, floated an island. And in its center was a ruined stone temple. Between the edge of the forest and that floating island stood a single connection: a bridge. Thin. Unrailed. Unsupported. So narrow Luke doubted two people could cross side by side. It stretched into the impossible, and yet it was real.

Physics had no place here. Just like the floating island didn't make sense, the bridge defied everything he understood about reality. But none of that was what made him break into a cold sweat. It was what sat inside the temple. Even from a distance, even with the chasm between them, Luke felt his muscles weaken. A tightness in the back of his neck, a sick twist in his gut. Every instinct screamed to turn back and to not look any longer.

There, at the heart of the temple, rested a throne of massive stone. And seated upon it was something. A being of blackness from skin to blood, from shape to soul. Motionless. Imposing. Even in stillness, it radiated presence. The two curved horns rising from its head confirmed what Luke's mind had already guessed: a demon.

The creature leaned forward ever so slightly, hands resting on the arms of the throne, head bowed. Sleeping, maybe. Luke couldn't see its eyes but he knew if they opened he wouldn't survive the gaze. Had it been stone, it might have passed for a statue. But something told him it breathed. And at the base of the throne, in the center of the temple, there was a chest. Simple. Unassuming. Alone.

There. The key. Luke pulled back, inched away, slid back beneath the safety of the underbrush and retreated. Then his heart pounded.

I found it.

His chest rose and fell in sharp, heavy breaths. Cold sweat clung to his skin. That was it. That chest could be his way out, not just from this floor but from everything: the challenge, the prisoners, the looming death. With that key he could move on. Survive. He looked once more toward the abyss, the bridge, the temple. All he had to do was cross the narrow bridge, walk into the temple and take the key from the chest.

Simple. Except… for the demon sleeping between him and freedom. Even thinking about attempting it felt like madness. But it was the only madness he had left the strength to try.

***

Luke crouched at the edge of the waterfall, cupping his hands. The water was cold but had never tasted so good. He drank deeply. The thirst was intense; days of walking, fighting, and surviving had drained his body. Now that he knew where the key was, everything felt clearer and more focused. But still it hurt. He splashed water on his face, rubbed it across his arms and neck, rinsed away the dried blood.

Leveling up healed his wounds but did not wash them off. His body still carried the marks of battle, the metallic scent of monsters, the grime, the splashes of his own blood. When he returned to the gazebo, he collapsed into the wooden chair and sat there. Silence.

I have to do this. His mind spun. I'm already dead anyway.

The cavern was almost empty now. He had cleared out nearly every creature. Only a few remained, and only because he had deliberately spared them—didn't want rotting corpses near his resting area. But he knew. Soon… he'd finish them too. He stood up and began pacing around the table, breathing deeply, trying to smother the rising anxiety. Muttering under his breath. Short phrases. Trying to stay sane.

Then he stopped. He looked at the table. Picked up a small stone and placed it in the center. Around it, he arranged leaves, stacking them like crude walls. Between the leaves and the stone, he set a tiny twig as a marker. Finally, he laid a torn piece of paper across the top of the stone and stared at it. It was rough. Improvised. Primitive.

It wasn't even really a model, but right now, it was everything.

"I guess I have a layout." He exhaled slowly. "Even if it's makeshift. Even if it's barely a layout at all..."

A faint, humorless smile tugged at his lips. "I just need a plan."

***

Days passed. Luke spent hours just watching, always crouched behind the bushes, circling the edge of the abyss, searching for new angles, trying to map the floating island and looking for alternate entrances. But reality was merciless: there was only one bridge, one single path straight toward the throne. Each time he returned to the gazebo, he added another pebble to his "model."

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"Okay… some monsters in that area. Look like kobolds. Sleeping..."

He spoke aloud. Almost out of habit now.

"Starting to feel like Tom Hanks in Cast Away… talking to inanimate objects."

Maybe it was madness. But talking helped ease the pressure.

"And the demon… hasn't moved. Just sits there."

He adjusted a few small stones, placing them around the central one, the big one that represented the throne. All those days of surveillance and the boss had never shown a single sign of life. No twitch, no movement, not even visible breathing. If it had been made of stone, Luke would have believed it was part of the scenery. But something in his mind refused to be fooled.

That thing breathes, even if it's still, even if it's asleep.

His thoughts drifted back to the system's message: "The doors can only be opened from the inside, if you possess the Statue Key, currently guarded by a Boss."

Guarded. Not earned after defeating. A subtle difference, but essential. Luke stood and began pacing the clearing again, murmuring to himself.

"The answer is stealth. Even in the way you walk. Maybe the narrow, suspended bridge is a subtle warning. One misstep, and death is certain."

He stopped. "I'll have to move silently. Light steps. No sound. Maybe even holding my breath. Every movement has to be calculated. No sudden shifts. Almost imperceptible."

He drew a slow breath. "The absolute minimum to avoid waking the boss. Like walking a tightrope. Or crossing a bridge above an abyss."

His gaze fell on the old leather pouch left by the previous challenger.

That's why he left it. Didn't want to carry anything. Not even the sound of cloth shifting.

Luke looked down at his own feet. Then at the knife holster on his thigh. Maybe he needed to store everything in his inventory. Even take off his shoes. Even armed, Luke had no intention of fighting. But what if the demon could feel his presence? What if it was like him—always alert?

Over the past few weeks, Luke had come to understand just how much the Assassin class had changed him. Not just his body, but maybe his mind, too. Even in sleep, he noticed things. Sounds. Shifts. The faintest pressure in the air could wake him.

And if the boss had something like that—a passive instinct? Something that sensed not just noise, but intention?

Maybe he needed to hide from himself.

He leaned against the table, inhaling deeply.

"The answer isn't just walking slow. It's thinking slow. Not wanting. Not fearing. Not threatening. Become part of the environment. Invisible. No ego. No focus. No future."

His eyes drifted to the stone that represented the throne. It felt like this challenge was designed entirely for an Assassin. Or at least someone with a stealth-based class. Or maybe it was coincidence. He didn't know. But he wasn't alone. Luke took two small black orbs from his inventory and placed them beside the makeshift model on the table.

"My salvation…" A faint smile tugged at the edge of his mouth. "Is you two."

He stared at the two smoke bombs. They were his final card. If the demon awakened before he reached the chest, he'd throw one. The thick fog would cover the temple. And in that moment, he would run. Snatch the key. Do the impossible. It was the only margin of safety he had.

Luke didn't know if it would work. Maybe the demon didn't rely on sight. Maybe it saw through heat, mana, or pure instinct. But it didn't matter. It was all he had. The smoke bomb would be his distraction. His curtain. His parting courtesy before the world ignited. If the silent approach failed—if he made a single mistake, if the creature stirred—then the smoke would be his shot, or his final act.

He might be stronger. Faster. But if he can't see me… he can't hit me. He knew it could fail. It could mean nothing. But the odds were already against him. All Luke could do now was set the stage for when the world collapsed… and pray it held long enough.

***

Luke watched the kobolds in the forest. The last ones. Aside from those on the floating island, these were the final monsters on the floor, his only remaining food source. Killing them now meant there would be no more time to stall, but waiting was just as dangerous.

Part of him had considered the possibility of waiting for the prisoners to descend, letting them deal with the key quest before attempting the madness himself. But he knew better. The prisoners had no intention of opening the portal anytime soon, maybe not even this year. Betting his life on their plans would be just as insane as trying to steal that key from the chest.

He was here, lying still in the underbrush, motionless. Hours passed. He didn't move. He was training, training his breathing, training his mind, trying to empty it and let his thoughts dissolve. Ironically, it was when he tried not to think that thoughts came rushing in. The solution was simple: stop resisting.

He visualized something. A panther. The image formed clear in his mind: a silent predator. Just eyes in the leaves. A body honed to kill, but in no hurry. Only focus. He imitated it. The panther doesn't pounce. It waits. Minutes passed. An hour. A subtle shift of weight. A near-invisible flex of muscle. One step, maybe. Then nothing.

Ahead, the kobolds continued their routines. One dragging sticks. Another gnawing pointlessly on a stone. The third simply stood still, watching the forest—and sweating. He sensed something. A shiver. Something was watching. He scanned the darkness ahead. It felt… alive. And then... something moved.

Time froze. A blade spun through the air and drilled directly into the kobold's forehead.

[You killed a Cave Kobold – Lvl 5]

Before the others could react, more blades followed. They split midair and struck the ground around them, forcing them to retreat. The one holding the sticks looked up in panic. Saw a shadow shift between the trees. Then a stone dropped beside him. Instinct made him turn. It was the last thing he ever did. A blade came for his eyes. Darkness.

[You killed a Cave Kobold – Lvl 5]

The third trembled. The forest had become a living maze. The shadows wrapped around him. The trees… watched him. He backed away and bumped into something. He turned slowly... and saw them. Two eyes. No anger. No thrill. Just judgment. Like he was less than an insect. The blade slid across his throat with surgical grace.

[You killed a Cave Kobold – Lvl 4]

Luke remained still. Breathing slowly. Eyes closed. The panther still alive inside him.

**Your class [Assassin] has reached Level 5! (Class Bonus Points Acquired)**

[A new Class Skill is available]

Luke had done it. For a moment, he had become the Assassin. Fully. Not just in body, but in mind. He had discovered something hidden within the class—something deeper. A transformation.

And when he opened the system menu to view his new skill, there wasn't just one. There were five. As Luke read the descriptions, his eyes widened. These weren't minor boosts. These were extraordinary skills he'd never imagined could exist.