Becoming the Dark Lord [LitRPG]

Chapter 60: Blood Regeneration


Luke narrowed his eyes at the system notification.

[Mission Orb: Hunt the Iron-Tusk Boars Objective: Kill 10 Iron-Tusk Boars Progress: 0/10 Reward: Equipment (Unrevealed)]

He dropped silently from the branch, landing with feline grace.

The blue orb had already vanished.

"So that's what Anna meant… hidden missions scattered throughout the Wild Zone."

If side quests like this existed out here, they could be a huge edge.

Luke had already made up his mind—power came first. Always.

To complete the tutorial, he had to find the three ancient mechanisms sealing the castle. But he had a theory. Each one was probably guarded by a Lord. And if he activated all three—the Midnight Wardens would march again. Day and night. Without pause.

Luke clenched his fists.

He wasn't the sentimental type. But still—there were children and civilians in the Safe Zone. He couldn't unleash a bloodbath and walk away like it meant nothing.

He pushed the thought aside. Right now, he had one goal. Strength.

***

Luke moved carefully through the city ruins in the Wild Zone, crouched low, hugging the sides of broken buildings as he kept to the shadows. Whenever footsteps echoed nearby, he dashed across crumbling streets and dove into abandoned houses without hesitation.

A system prompt flickered in the corner of his vision.

[Dead Watchman – Level 10]

So... zombie soldiers patrol the city too.

The undead guard shuffled past, slow but steady. Right behind it came two more, moving together in formation. They didn't roam alone—they moved in groups.

Back in the forest, he'd already managed to evade a pack of velociraptors, using the treetops to bypass them. But getting chased by monsters inside the city? That was a different problem entirely. Open ground, tight alleys—no trees to climb. Worse, any chase here, even in daylight, would draw too much attention.

This run wasn't about fighting. It was about learning. Understanding. Mapping the place out. He needed to gather as much information as possible before committing to deeper pushes. That was why he'd refused the Haven's offer to assign him a guide.

If I'm gonna survive this place... I need to feel it myself. I need to learn how it moves.

Stealth was everything.

The Wild Zone was massive, but the division between the forest and the city was clear. The forest was dangerous, sure. But it was manageable. The ruins? A whole different ecosystem. One designed to kill you. Especially after sunset—when the Midnight Wardens started their patrols.

But the deeper you went into the city... the better the loot. Clothes. Supplies. Abandoned chests filled with food, materials, maybe rare gear. The risk was suffocating—but so were the rewards.

The catch? Time control.

If you went too deep and didn't make it back before midnight... you were dead. No negotiation. No mercy. Once the curfew hit, the Midnight Wardens hunted anything that moved.

And then there was the light. Daytime exploration was dangerous, but manageable. Night? The Wild Zone turned pitch black. Sure, Luke had Demonic Perception, but even that had limits. You could sense shapes, movement... but not everything. Not perfectly.

And yet... even knowing all that... he still wanted to try. To push. To figure it out. To conquer it.

Once the undead patrol rounded the corner and vanished, Luke slipped out of the building, climbed its side using broken ledges and cracks, and pulled himself onto the rooftop. From there, he scanned the streets below.

"Damn... this place is huge," he muttered.

His priority was clear—level up. Himself. Charlie. Both.

But that led straight into another problem. His skeletal companion was... well, a skeleton. Having her walk around with him was basically announcing his bloodline to anyone watching. That secret was one he couldn't afford to lose.

Luke sighed, casting a glance toward the forest in the distance. "Time to head back."

Pushing deeper into the ruins without a better plan was reckless. He wasn't ready for that. Not yet. And besides... he still needed to check out that mission orb he'd picked up earlier.

***

As he started moving, the realization fully clicked. Something that had been slowly forming in the back of his mind finally locked into place. He understood now—really understood—why so many survivors refused to leave the Safe Zone.

It wasn't just the monsters. Wasn't just the curfew.

It was Health.

HP doesn't regenerate. That was a harsh truth he had no choice but to accept.

If someone with 100 HP took 70 damage, they'd be stuck with only 30. Permanently. No recovery. Unlike mana or stamina, your health bar stayed exactly the same. Even if you treated the wound manually, like stitching it up or something, every point of HP lost brought you one step closer to death.

Sure, you could restore HP when leveling up your Race. But that required killing enemies, which came with its own risk of... well, taking even more damage. Same with leveling up your Profession. The loop was brutal. The more you fought to survive... the more likely you were to die trying.

It was a death spiral.

That's why healers were worth their weight in gold. And healing potions? Priceless. Controlled by exactly one person.

Bartholomew.

But Luke... Luke had something else. A loophole. A skill. A way to bypass the entire problem.

And he was dying to test it.

Luke moved swiftly through the undergrowth, each step measured, every sense sharpened to a razor's edge. If game logic applied here—and it usually did—the mission zone shouldn't be far from where the orb had been.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

Then a sound hit him. A low, heavy snort, deep enough to vibrate through the ground.

He dropped instantly into the brush, body pressed low. His eyes scanned the clearing ahead. And then he saw them.

Boars.

But not the kind anyone would expect. These weren't woodland pests. Each one was the size of a full-grown bear, their bodies packed with dense muscle beneath thick bristled hides. Their eyes glowed with a dull, burning aggression—pure, undiluted rage.

Beside him, Princess Charlie stood silent. Her skeletal form motionless, hollow gaze fixed on the beasts. No breath. No sound. Just perfect stillness.

Luke slid one kukri free, grip tightening.

A single motion—clean.

Thunk.

The blade spun through the air and buried itself deep into the side of one of the monsters. The boar shrieked, staggering back, tusks shaking. Then—those tusks began to glow. Bone shifted, reshaping. Metal bloomed across the surface like liquid steel hardening in an instant. Smooth, cold iron.

Luke's stomach dropped.

They have skills.

One of them roared and charged—a bull made of muscle and fury. Luke dove sideways just as the creature slammed into a tree, the impact splitting the trunk in half with a deafening crack. Splinters rained down.

Another came from his blind spot, slamming into him shoulder-first. The hit knocked the air out of his lungs. Luke hit the dirt hard, sliding through the mud and leaves, coughing, ribs screaming.

He gritted his teeth and recalled his kukris, the blades snapping back into his grip. This wasn't a fight he could end quickly. Not cleanly. This was going to be rough.

A third boar lowered its head and charged, tusks gleaming. Luke shifted his stance at the last second. The beast thundered past, momentum sending it crashing straight into one of its own. Flesh and bone collided. Both creatures staggered.

There.

An opening.

One breath. One step. His body moved faster than thought. A clean arc, a sharp twist—kukri slicing straight through muscle and tendon. The blade ripped into the boar's neck. Blood sprayed, warm and heavy.

The beast shuddered, took one broken step forward—then collapsed.

[You have slain an Iron-Tusk Boar – Lvl 13]

No time to breathe. Another boar barreled toward him. Luke leapt, landing square on its back. With a savage twist of both blades, he drove them deep into the creature's thick neck.

The boar thrashed, but Luke whispered coldly, "Time to sleep." He twisted again—its throat tore open.

He hit the ground running, pouring mana into his legs mid-fall. Shadow wrapped around his body as he surged forward like a living blur.

He crashed into another boar like a wrecking ball. The creature flew backward, slammed into a tree with enough force to snap the trunk clean in half. Two more down.

Then came a sharp, piercing cry behind him.

Luke barely turned in time. A tusk ripped through his arm—white-hot pain exploding as flesh split open. Blood poured down his sleeve.

But something shifted. The boar's wound glowed—a deep, pulsing red. His body reacted before his mind caught up. Instinct flooded in, clear and undeniable.

[Basic Blood Regeneration – Available]

The skill surged within him, demanding to be used. He raised his hand instinctively. A crimson mist lifted from the wounded beast and flowed into his body. His HP ticked upward. The burning pain vanished. Muscle knitted. Skin sealed.

He stared, almost stunned, watching the gash on his arm close right in front of him.

"This is…"

He shut it off—the mana drain was brutal. But it worked. It actually worked.

The boar roared and charged.

This time, Luke didn't move. He stepped straight into the hit. The tusks slammed into his ribs and crushed him against a tree.

His breath caught sharp in his throat. His teeth clenched. "Tch..."

His arms moved faster than thought.

The kukri punched straight into the boar's skull. The creature convulsed, trembling violently.

Luke released the blade and vaulted upward, catching a branch just as the remaining boars smashed into the trunk below. The entire tree shook under the repeated impacts, bark splintering, leaves raining down.

He steadied his breathing, scanned the group, and focused on the most injured one. Mana flared again. Blood lifted from the creature's wounds, dissolving into red vapor before flowing straight into his body.

The energy drained fast. The boar crumpled instantly, dead before its body even hit the ground.

[You have slain an Iron-Tusk Boar – Lvl 13]

Luke grinned. "This… is insane."

If he left enemies at low health, he could finish them instantly and heal in the process.

He dropped from the branch, landing light. The surviving boars were still furious, stomping and snorting, blood dripping from their hides.

Luke whistled. A silent signal.

Princess Charlie leapt from the treetops. The skeleton warrior landed like a thunderbolt, her blade plunging into a boar's hide.

Luke moved right behind her. Cutting between enemies. Striking weak points. Dodging just before impact. Fluid. Precise. Lethal.

Charlie crushed the frontline, holding back the stampede with brute force. Together, they carved through the chaos.

In less than a minute, four more boars lay gasping, twitching, bloodied.

Luke extended his hand.

"Goodbye."

SHAAA.

A red wave pulsed through the clearing. The beasts shuddered—and dropped.

[You have slain an Iron-Tusk Boar – Lvl 11]

[You have slain an Iron-Tusk Boar – Lvl 12]

[You have slain an Iron-Tusk Boar – Lvl 12]

[You have slain an Iron-Tusk Boar – Lvl 11]

The mission prompt flashed:

*Mission: Hunt the Iron-Tusk Boars* Progress: 10/10 [Mission Complete] [Reward Granted]

Luke opened his inventory. A new item sparkled in the slot.

[Iron-Tusk Boarhide Pants (Uncommon)

Description: Durable leather pants crafted from the reinforced hide of an Iron-Tusk Boar. Infused with raw metal from the creature's own tusks, offering superior defense. Requirement: Level 5+ in any class or race.]

Luke let out a low whistle.

"Not bad at all."

He looked over at Princess Charlie, who stood amid the corpses, her skull tilted curiously.

"We make a damn good team."

Princess Charlie puffed out her chest. 'Obviously. You've got me.'

He chuckled, eyes drifting back to the screen hovering before him. The new gear was solid—much better than the default adventurer's pants he still wore. But then he looked at her again. And made his choice.

"You should have these."

Charlie tilted her skull slightly, confused by the offer. In Luke's mind, her role was clear: she'd be his tank. He was agile, and his Perception stats let him dodge most incoming blows.

But Charlie? She needed to take hits, tank enemies, and hold the frontline. Putting defense gear on him would just slow him down. But she… she'd need every edge to survive.

Still, she hesitated.

Luke crossed his arms. "Take the gear. It'll be way more useful for you than me. You're going to be my knight, remember?"

Her green spectral eyes flickered, considering. 'Are you sure?'

"Absolutely."

He sent the item through the system. In an instant, the pants equipped themselves, snapping into place around her skeletal form. Luke blinked. It didn't just hang loosely on her bones. It was as if the system had filled in the rest of her body—invisible to the eye, but real enough for armor to take shape.

Charlie turned slightly. Luke's eyes widened. She had a butt.

"What the—?!"

He stared. Then squinted.

How is that possible? Did the system actually shape the armor around an invisible body?!

Charlie noticed the stare. And if a skull could blush, she was definitely doing it now.

Luke coughed and quickly turned away.

"S-sorry."

Still flustered, he couldn't help but think:

If I give her a full set of armor, she'd look just like a regular warrior. A walking tank no one would question.

That was… perfect.

"Charlie," he said, serious now. "Don't be shy about asking for gear. We're a team. If you see something that'll make you stronger—even if I'm using it—just say it."

She paused. Then slowly raised a hand—and pointed to his finger. To the ring. Then to her ring finger.

Luke blinked. "…You want the ring?"

She nodded rapidly, eyes glowing.

He couldn't help but laugh. "You forgot it requires level 8 in class or race to equip."

Charlie froze, her shoulders sagging in pure disappointment. Before Luke could say anything more, a rustle came from the brush.

Luke tensed immediately. Something was nearby. His instincts screamed—fighting now was a terrible idea. His mana was running dangerously low after repeatedly using Basic Blood Regeneration.

"Let's move."

He slipped through the underbrush, silent and swift, with Charlie gliding close behind. A new target had emerged, an orc. He needed to find it, follow it, track it back to its origins.

If the ancient mechanisms were hidden within the territories of the Lords, then the center of each domain would likely harbor one.

It was risky, maybe even suicidal, but it made sense. Too much sense.

Strange that no one else had thought of it or perhaps someone had and didn't live to tell the tale.

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