Becoming the Dark Lord [LitRPG]

A few incredulous looks landed on Luke. He disliked being the center of attention, but someone needed to give the room a nudge. Erza’s manner was too authoritarian; Allison’s was too democratic. He’d strike a balance.

"The final challenge is actually the easiest one of all.” he said.

“Easy?” Eugene echoed, skeptical.

Luke paused for a heartbeat to marshal his thoughts. “Read the transcription of the war challenge carefully. The tutorial loves to hide clues and secrets. It presents the problem and it hides the solution inside the same text. What’s the objective?”

He didn’t wait for answers. Instead he pointed at Eddie, one of the most worried faces in the room—a civilian, not a soldier. That was the heart he wanted to reach.

“Survive the war and return to the land,” Eddie replied, blunt and sure. “Within the six-hour limit.”

“Exactly, Eddie,” Luke walked to the table and picked up the small model of the castle. “Within the damned six-hour limit.”

He lifted the sculpture so everyone could see. “Didn’t you notice? When the third mechanism is triggered, the portal to Earth opens immediately. What I’m saying is that all this time you’ve spent away from your families, all these years of waiting and sacrifice, finally leads to this.”

He held the castle aloft. “When we activate the third mechanism, we don’t have to spend six hours in this hell of a war. We just have to run to the castle. That’s the challenge. See how simple it is? We literally just have to walk from the fortress to the damn portal inside the castle.”

For a moment it felt like a light bulb switched on across the room, though suspicion still lingered on many faces. Luke let the silence hang long enough to let them mull it over; he noticed Erza Grimhart watching him, maybe waiting for him to continue his game of words and wills.

“Eddie,” Luke broke the quiet as everyone reread the final-challenge transcript, “isn’t that exactly what I said?”

The old man read the paper as if devouring it. “It… it’s exactly what you said, boy.”

“Not a siege, then,” Luke clarified, “but a race.”

“There’ll still be an army to fight and three bosses,” a soldier objected.

Erza rose from her chair. “As we’ve been saying for weeks, we will take down the bosses. We’ll clear the way, and you’ll be safe.”

“And what do we do?” Tom asked.

“Wait,” Luke said simply. “But this waiting happens on the battlefield. You’ll hold the line against the army, draw their attention, while Lady Erza and Lady Allison take on the tutorial bosses and open the path. They make the way for you.”

Luke deliberately leaned on the titles of nobility, letting the weight of their names carry the room. “The Midnight Lord, the Witch, and the Midnight King will be our greatest obstacles. But these two, along with their personal teams, will deal with that threat. Once they’re defeated, all you’ll need to do is turn your backs on this hell, walk beside them toward the portal, and return to Earth. With any luck, you’ll wake up at home, scaring your families half to death.”

A mix of truth and exaggeration, he needed to win them over.

Eyes drifted from the papers to Luke, uncertain but listening.

“So technically, we don’t have to kill every enemy,” someone muttered, scanning the page.

“It still won’t be easy,” another added.

Luke set the castle sculpture back on the table. “It never was. It wasn’t easy to bring down the Orc Lord, or the Beast Lord, or to survive the invasions where so many of you bled and wept. But today you hunt Midnight Wardens. Today you control three fortresses. Today you walk freely through the Wild Zone without fear. You’ve become conquerors. All that’s left is one final challenge, returning home.”

The meeting carried on. The revelation had shaken some, but once Erza and Allison began to speak, they laid out their perspectives clearly, drawing everyone into their respective strategies. The plan was simple in concept but brutal in execution: wipe out as much of the enemy army as possible while the main group took on the major threats. After that, the survivors would only need to break through whatever remained of the enemy lines. With their combined strength, magic, war machines, archers, and epic skills, the six-hour time limit didn’t seem quite as impossible anymore.

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And Erza Grimhart, to everyone’s surprise, was almost pleasant as she fielded questions.

Most of the main strategies were already built on the original plan, which made adjustments easier. Whatever came out of that room would shape everything that followed. These people were the backbone of the tutorial’s community. If they believed it could be done, that belief would spread like wildfire.

It was a gamble, but even Luke and the others needed their help. Reaching the Midnight King would be anything but easy.

***

A few weeks had passed since the meeting, and the world around them had shifted almost beyond recognition. Most people now lived in the capital; only a handful still stayed scattered across the rest of the tutorial, venturing out only to transport resources or claim event chest rewards.

Luke walked across the field where the war would soon unfold. Everywhere he looked, people moved with purpose, hauling timber, building fortifications, assembling ballistae and catapults. Training drills echoed through the air: arrows arcing high above, orders shouted to fire, reload, repeat.

His gaze caught a long stretch of tents buzzing with activity. Men and women worked in relentless rhythm, some seated and fletching shafts, others rushing back and forth carrying bundles of materials. The forges burned around the clock, their goal simple and brutal: produce as many arrows as humanly possible.

“Good thing I’ve got the enchanted quiver,” he muttered, passing by the tents.

Charlie wasn’t with him; she was training with Artemis and Anne. Luke’s eyes drifted toward the distant barrier, beyond which loomed the castle, waiting like a patient beast. The time had come. In a day or two, the war would begin.

“You’d better make sure you actually kill that thing,” Eleanor said as she appeared beside him, a mug in one hand and half a loaf of bread in the other.

“Isn’t it a little dangerous for my personal arrow maker to be drinking before a war?” he asked.

“Says the guy who refused every blade they offered him,” she shot back.

Luke summoned his kukris into his hands, the black metal catching the dim light. “Sorry, but these aren’t replaceable. These are the weapons I’ll take into battle.”

They walked side by side past the rows of tents, watching soldiers and civilians alike preparing for the inevitable.

“You still need to pick up the special arrow from Ronan,” she reminded him. “Don’t tell me you’re planning to face the Midnight King empty-handed.”

“Relax. I’ll get it. Just been… busy,” he said.

Busy was an understatement. Luke had spent every day honing his body and mind, and training with Princess Charlie herself.