The Chimeric Ascension of Lyudmila Springfield

Chapter Six: The Dark Lord’s Fate

I walked over to the next coffin while talking to myself. “Chimerism is the key. It must be. It details that I could gain power by assimilating, but I need to find something I can assimilate. Common sense tells me the others are too strong... I can try, but it most likely won’t work... If it means getting revenge, I’d eat anything that dares to stand in my way... Wait, what about that Divine Skill? The tooltip said I’d get stronger the more I turn the dial, but how strong would I get?” I cranked it up to five, but nothing noticeable happened. Perhaps it worked in increments of ten? Unlikely… Meruria’s name passed through my thoughts, and I instantly felt some mild anger when it was at nine.   

I’ll have to test it out later.  Right now, I need to look at the tablet.  

In this tablet, I will detail the history, or rather the most widely accepted history, of the Dark Lord we have captured. As much as I hate wasting words on her life, I couldn’t live with myself if I purposely ignored the chance to leave written proof of her existence.  

Her story must be told. That is simply the truth of the matter. 

The Dark Lord of Tyranny was born to an adventurer and his wife, who were very well off. Her father was an accomplished and noteworthy warrior who had reached the third highest rank with the guild. Her mother was the daughter of a rather famous family that has since been struck from history. I do wish I knew the name so I could mark it down, but alas... I do not... 

As with any innocent child, her birth was supposed to be one of celebration... A grand occasion to welcome a new life to this wonderful world we live in... That was how it was meant to go, but everything changed when she was pushed out of her mother’s womb. 

For you see, the Dark Lord was born with silver hair, red fur warming her arms, and blue fur covering her legs. According to ancient legends, the greatest threat the world had ever seen was thought to have had those exact features, and it was written that her reincarnation would bring the world to ruin. Her mother and father panicked, shaving the newborn. They did their best to put that awful prophecy behind them by pretending their daughter suffered from a disease that caused hairlessness. Such stress tore the family apart, causing unfaithfulness to rear its ugly head.  

For five years, the family held together, but even the patience of a loving father will eventually run out. He soon found comfort in the arms of the maid attending to them and their mansion. She gave him so much affection that he thought it only fair to bless her with a rich belly that housed a pair of twins. Pregnancy was something that couldn’t be hidden, and his wife soon found out about his infidelity.  

Perhaps that was what it took for the mother to snap... The stress accumulating of giving birth to a rumored harbinger of death and chaos, the inability to keep that shame hidden forever, the lack of companionship and help from the one who had sworn to always be there for her... Knowing that he had taken it upon himself to follow through with a second chance at starting a family pushed her over the edge into insanity.  

One night, during dinner, the drinking glasses were poisoned. The Dark Lord’s mother and father, along with the maid and her unborn children, died from poison. Rumor had it the Dark Lord was behind it, but I believe the mother was the one who wanted to take everyone with her. As for leaving the Dark Lord behind? Perhaps the mother was just afraid of her... She feared the child would follow them in death, wreaking havoc upon the afterlife as such was her predetermined destiny in the world of the living. 

On that note, I have problems with the validity of that legend I spoke about above. It seems to have been common knowledge, but my attempts to discover its source ended in failure. I am almost of the mind to declare it an outright lie since I cannot find any historical reference to it. Then again, this dungeon will be the Dark Lord’s resting place. It’s just a matter of time before her legend fades to memory. After that, I expect it to be gone from history. After a few hundred years, perhaps those unlucky Lionfolk born resembling her will no longer be persecuted. 

From here, the details become as blurry as smoked glass... I have it on good authority to say that after the Dark Lord ran away from her house, she was captured by a slaver. After years of living in misery, she attempted to escape with a friend, but after tripping in the mud, the Dark Lord was left behind to be recaptured. That perceived betrayal lit a dark fire within her heart. 

Once she later escaped by herself, she formed her own bandit troupe and started attacking anyone who had the misfortune to encounter her or pass through the lands she’d claimed. Such an accumulation of power and a thirst for death eventually led to her ascension as the Dark Lord of Tyranny. Her reward was the abominable Divine Skill called [Tyranny Control]-- the strongest enslavement skill in the world, which befitted her tyrannical nature, and a weapon.  

Her mace... That was the most terrible thing she was cursed with... Even now, I shudder when thinking about its power... I am happy to say that the infernal weapon is in Lord Amos’s hands. He stored it in a place known only to him, and he stated that he would investigate sealing its unholy power once we were done here.  

If the agent we sent in hadn’t swindled it away from the Dark Lord of Tyranny, I wouldn’t be here right now, etching this into stone to guarantee this reminder would last until the end of the world. 

That agent was the person who left the Dark Lord alone all those many years ago during her first escape attempt. But being betrayed again by the closest thing she had to a friend, right after she’d forgiven him and he’d declared his love for her? Her screams... The Dark Lord curses of revenge... I will never forget them for as long as I live. Sometimes, I wonder if we were right to do this, but just the thought of how her reign of terror and destruction would bring devastation to the world... We must have been right. It was the only way we could have stopped her.  

As such, that is the story of the Dark Lord of Tyranny. From the beginning, she was destined to live a life of neglect, abuse, and enslavement, while being spearheaded into becoming the world’s enemy. Was tragic? Perhaps. Could one argue that she was nothing but a victim? Of course. 

But at the end of the day, if she wasn’t stopped, there just wouldn’t have been a world anymore. 

Murag. 

“So, you’re the Cowfolk... Yeah, the skin tone of my tits matches your face,” I said when the tablet and coffin shattered. 

I suppose I was looking at what was left of a woman that would probably be considered pretty. Her hair was long, a mix between red and pink. A pair of small horns poked out from underneath, meaning she was a beastfolk.  

I snatched up the crumpled, mostly empty leather dress partially covering the body. After focusing, I was told it belonged to the Favored Daughter’s Fateful Farewell set—the same collection as Susize’s clothes. 

Same collection? Yes, but that didn’t mean it matched. When I thought of cows, leather came to my mind. This red and black leather-covered dress was reinforced with golden thread in just the right areas to highlight its strengths. It was an extreme display of an artisan's care for his craft. Or it was something like that. 

I wasn’t going to wear it, so I tossed it to the ground and examined the corpse.  

She didn’t have a torso, except for her hairless crotch, so it was like looking at a doll missing the central piece. My hands ran up and down her arms, feeling just how smooth and soft her gloves were. If I had her torso and ass, then why did I have a penis? Why take everything and leave the crotch? Or why give me the crotch of a man in the first place? 

Do those questions matter? I’m here, aren’t I? 

Error: You are not strong enough to use [Assimilation] on Beccy! 

Yeah, I figured that would happen. That was 2 of 5 of being too strong. Chances were high that the pattern continued. She was buried with leather sandals, but I chose to ignore them.  

Like Susize, Beccy had something extra buried with her. A sword and shield, to be exact.  

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The shield reminded me of a pair of sturdy walls that surrounded the castles of the Middle Ages. Silver and polished to a sheen, it seemed unbreakable. And heavy, too, since it was nearly five feet long and at least a foot and a half wide. Likewise, the sparkly silver blade nearby was something like a great sword. Presumably, Beccy wielded both at the same time.  

Like with Susize’s bow, the sword and shield vanished. Then Beccy’s ethereal form as it came from her body and walked to where Susize stood. 

Suddenly, the Dark Lord’s right leg was swallowed by the same flames scorching her left one after burning the holy chain to ash. I stared up at her for a few seconds before realizing that she didn’t have red fur on her arms. According to the document, that was one of the reasons why she was persecuted. Was this crucified, naked woman, with half of her body engulfed in black fire, the Dark Lord? 

She has to be. 

I thought about what I had read on that second tablet. If it was a warning against freeing her, I wasn’t really feeling it. 

The single key to her defeat was the betrayal of who I assume was her closest ally. What made it worse, though, was the fact that it seemed like the Dark Lord forgave this traitor after being betrayed by them the first time.  In history, many, many battles and wars were won thanks to a few people, or even a single person, switching sides at a pivotal moment. 

 From the beginning, it seemed like the world was railroading her into being a self-fulfilling prophecy. Her parents were shit, the people around her nurtured a negative, horrible environment, and it shouldn't have been a surprise that she turned out the way she did. And that shit about being preordained for world ruination? If the world was going to abandon someone for that, then maybe it did deserve to be destroyed. I certainly wouldn’t blame the Dark Lord for going that route. 

I walked over to the third tablet and began to scan it. It was...nothing important. Or really relevant. Or maybe it was, now that I thought about it. While it didn’t reveal any information about the Dark Lord, it was a detailed summary of how Amos picked his five warriors.  

Susize was personally sought after by Amos when it was time to pick his Soul Warriors since he did not want to leave it to cosmic chance. She was the High Elf Princess of the Forest of Vredi, a highly respectable forest that later burned to the ground after a war between a Holy Lord and Dark Lord that didn’t involve the Dark Lord of Tyranny. She was blessed with [Eyes of the Huntress]. Her swordplay and archery were second to none, and she fancied herself as a scientist because she had a goal of producing a seed that took mana and used that to satisfy its need for water and sunlight. She never did succeed, but she came awfully close because her final attempts produced a seed that needed a tiny drop of water to activate the process. 

I wondered if this paradise came from it? 

Beccy was a queen. Her country was attacked, her family was slaughtered and burned to death, and Amos and Susize arrived in time to save her. She was the only survivor, and after enduring a body that was over 70% scorched, Amos saw fit to bless her with a Soul Crystal. 

Reina was the third, and she was initially tasked by the Dark Lord Myrrah to plant evidence that suggested Amos was planning her assassination attempt. That failed when Susize took Reina in a fight Murag described as a ‘lioness playing with a kitten.’ When the truth was revealed, Reina became infatuated with revenge and plotted Myrrah’s death after Amos gave her a Soul Crystal. She was already powerful enough to instantly receive her Soul Weapon, which was a firearm.  

She shouldered the gun and took aim. With Myrrah being weakened by the ‘bindings’ of the Head Judge, Murag noted the assassination would have been easy, yet Reina chose not to do it because Myrrah was facing justice. Murag also wrote that Amos gave her an approving smile that warmed her heart well.  

Murag was the fourth, and he was just an Ashen Orc that preferred history and books to weapons and blood. He also wrote that his outlandish sex drive was conquered with the help of his four female allies, but that detail wasn’t necessary. I didn’t know why he wanted to mark that down for future generations to read.  

Yaekira, the Desert Fox Folk, was a fan girl of Amos. She left her desert home and searched far and wide. Once she found him, she pestered him night and day, never giving up even after being refused thirty times before Amos somehow saw something within her. Murag grudgingly accepted his Lord’s decision, but his attitude changed when he, once again, wrote about how he suffered from hypothermia and only survived because Yaekira warmed him with her body. 

I scoffed at how he ended this tablet. 

Susize, Beccy, Reina, Yaekira... I love you four very much... 

But then it hit me.  

If Ashen Orc was the final—or a final—evolution of an orc, what about High Elf and Dark Elf? They were obviously different than a regular elf. And Desert Foxfolk? Why not just Foxfolk? If Foxfolk was the first form, then was it possible to further specialize into a particular niche? Beccy, though. She had nothing before her race name, so I can assume that Cowfolk was a race that either couldn’t evolve or had a hard time evolving. 

The coffin shattered. 

Error: You are not strong enough to use [Assimilation] on Reina! 

Reaching out, I brushed my fingers through her black hair, caressed her pointy ears, then poked her lips for just a second. This woman was supposed to be dead, so why was her dark skin so warm? Why did it feel like she was alive? 

I scanned the black gloves resting against her chest and picked them up for a few seconds. Like before, it was part of a collection called the Favored Daughter’s Fateful Farewell. I had never touched spider thread before, but that was what I imagined these gloves were made from. When I slid them on, they fit just right, which just made sense since I had her arms. If Reina’s armless corpse had hers, then it would look like she was just in a deep sleep. 

I thought about taking her black tunic for myself, but Beccy’s breasts were just too big. The pants were too small, too. They were similar in color to the gloves, but they had red and gold accents. I checked to see if her underwear was going to be of any use, and it wasn’t. 

And the sandals don’t fit... 

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Okay, Reina’s Soul Weapon was a gun, but the pistol buried with her could not have existed here. I mean, it looked like a perfect recreation of a Beretta 92FS. The barrel, slide, and trigger were polished to an unhealthy degree, yet the original grip must’ve been replaced by crimson cherry wood. The two colors meshed very well, and I was slightly sad to see it vanish like the other weapons with {Mana Link}. 

As Reina’s spirit joined her allies, the chain piercing the Dark Lord’s left arm turned into ash as black fire swallowed her left arm whole. That was three out of five, but there wasn’t any sign of life on her. Her eyes were still closed. Still, the facial expressions of two of the three spirits were of foreboding dread. They couldn’t speak, but they did stare at me a time or two, but I just ignored them.  

The fourth tablet was all about the dungeon—or the lack of one, I guess. It spoke of a narrow ledge you had to travel for hundreds of miles, fighting off winged menaces armed with spells of every magical element. Then there was a maze cursed with the Spell of Completion, where all paths had to be exhausted. Then more fighting monsters called Elder Liches and Skeletal Wyverns that used Elemental Dispersion, and that was on top of sliding down a rail suspended by magic. 

He wrote about a giant monster that birthed hundreds of thousands of other monster. It was so tall that even Susize’s incredible eyesight couldn’t see the top of it.  

Then I found something important. 

Amos confessed that the seal used on the inside of the dungeon was to be powered with his Soul Warriors’ lives. And they knew that. They came into this supposed hellhole without any intention of leaving it.  

Amos was responsible for leaving these bodies here to act as a seal. All the ones I came across were in perfect shape, other than the parts that had been stolen, but the same wasn’t true of Susize's corpse. She had large a gash across her chest. I think I could safely assume that it didn’t come from Amos. 

“Thanks for answering most of my unanswered questions...” I whispered as the coffin and tablet shattered.  

Error: You are not strong enough to use [Assimilation] on Murag! 

“Well, you’re pretty much all muscle... And taller than me... I don’t know why I didn’t make the connection sooner, but Ashen Orcs’ bodies are really the color of ash,” I said when looking over his body. 

A dark gray-colored ash, to be exact. A pair of teeth-colored tusks extended from the corner of his mouth, which was formed into a smile. Unlike his other allies, who were buried in exotic-looking clothes that probably suited their beauty, not that I could appreciate any, Murag wore generic brown clothes that reminded me of what monks from the Middle Ages would wear when studying.  

They were part of the Favored Son’s Fateful Farewell set. A counterpart from the Favored Daughter’s Fateful Farewell, I was sure. Slowly, I slipped on Murag’s short-sleeved brown shirt. It was oversized and came down to my knees, but it felt pretty damn comfortable. Like the other clothes, it was of exceptional quality. Was it made out of cloth? I rubbed it between my fingers and couldn’t quite place the material. Focusing on it only revealed the name of the set. 

His toned, defined muscles were clearly visible from his neck down to his incredibly refined abs. Even in death, he looked powerful and regal. Since his crotch was now mine, his underwear was caved in and empty under his brown pants. Was it nasty to wear someone else’s undergarments? Yes, it was. But I didn’t care about that. In a flash, I slid them up my legs and properly adjusted my cock, making sure it was secured in place. That was difficult since I never had this problem in my old body. Eventually, I settled on something that felt comfortable. “Finally, it’ll stop flopping around. You just don’t know how annoying that is to have something so large smack you in the thigh.” Here I was, complaining to a dead body. “But what do I know...? This did belong to you…” 

There were pants, but Murag’s legs were thick and powerful. His clothes needed to accommodate his large body, which meant they wouldn’t have fit me. If I had a belt, then maybe, but there wasn’t one around. I managed to get lucky with his underwear. 

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A warhammer? It was quite large and rugged, with jewels going down the golden handle while a pair of ruby spikes poked out from both sides of the head. It looked to be very well made and expensive, and I wondered who created it. It could have been Amos, but nothing in the tablets indicated he was a master craftsman. Right when the weapon vanished, Murag’s spirit rose from his corpse and joined the other four. I tried to wave at them, but they weren’t looking my way because they all stared up at the crucified Dark Lord. I wasn’t sure how Susize could stare with no head, but that was beside the point.  

Right on cue, black fire swallowed the Dark Lord’s right arm in the darkest flame. And there was still no movement at all. I had just the one seal left—the chain piercing right through her heart—and things were probably going to get interesting. 

I regret that I even have to etch these words into stone, yet I have to leave word of Princess Susize Vredi’s passing. As for how it happened? The Dark Lord must’ve been slowly amassing power during our descent down. Susize was just walking by when she broke free from the crystal we had temporarily encased her in, slashing my closest companion across the chest and killing her instantly. It was a final attempt to break free from her punishment. 

I descended into the furious rage my brethren are known and feared for. It was a blissful experience when wrath overtook me. It took Lord Amos and the three others to restrain me. Truthfully, I still remember it... I heard the Dark Lord’s awful cackling, and I wanted to wring her neck. Even if it meant this journey would have been for naught, I just wanted to rip open her chest and devour her beating heart... Even now, my orcish blood and intrinsic desire to rampage are making it hard to concentrate. 

But Susize’s death... Her passing means that the seal Lord Amos had planned won’t be perfect. It’s better than killing her—that's for sure, but instead of being a permanent solution to her abominable existence, it’ll be like a bandage. Holy Lord Amos said we would have peace for 800 years longer than if we would have killed her, so I suppose 1,000 years isn’t anything to scoff at... 

Susize... You were loved by all, and I will miss you very much.  Our late-night talks that lasted well into the early morning hours were a highlight of my life. Even when I was depressed, I could count on your cheery face to greet me with a fascinating smile... I wish I could hold you in my arms one last time, feeling your kiss upon my lips… 

For your sake, I will make sure the rest of the plan goes off without a hitch. I swear it. 

Murag. 

Error: You are not strong enough to use [Assimilation] on Yaekira! 

That explained it, right? Susize died before the final seal was used, which explains the wound on her chest. A thousand years, though? A millennium for Murag and the Dark Lord, but how much time had passed since I was summoned? 

Yaekira was buried in something similar to what might have been found in ancient Egypt of my world. Her bronze skin was kissed and touched by the harsh sun of the desert. The top she had on was made of yellow and white silk that danced up her arms from a ring on her middle finger. Or that was what the silk was sewn into. The overall design complemented her toned stomach, playfully glancing against her breasts as if to draw purposeful attention to them. 

There was a jackal-like headpiece on her head, which covered her medium-length black hair. And since I had her legs, her skirt was just lying there. I picked it up, dusted it off, and wore it. It was made out of purple silk, yet splashes of yellow and white formed a decorative border around the waistline. I swirled around in a circle, watching and smiling as the skirt began to flare up. I did debate on stripping Yaekira’s shirt off and putting it on, but Beccy’s tits were just so much bigger than hers that anything less than oversized wouldn’t cut. Besides, I already had Murag’s shirt.   

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Though only one name appeared when I focused on the pair of daggers, it looked as if the two were considered a single item. That made sense because it seemed they linked together by the pommel to create a weapon with two blades. The clashing dark brown and bright silver did not match, and why did one have a sapphire in its hilt while the other held a yellow jewel? 

“The seal should be broken,” I said, watching as Yaekira’s spirit left her body to join the others. A moment before this happened, the weapon vanished, making me wonder if the weapons were somehow linked to the seal. 

As if it was right on cue, the chain piercing the Dark Lord’s chest was burned, and the black fire scorching her four limbs joined together on her heart, and it spread to her entire body. 

And then her arms and legs began to move. 

I had done it. According to the tablets, I had just freed the greatest threat this world had ever known. A malicious grin appeared on my face, and I approached the five spirits, who helplessly stared.