Page 26 of The Dark Lord Awakens (Dark Service #1)

Lucien/Beau

B y the time we returned to the castle, I was filthy and thoroughly depressed by the state of my domain.

I’d made a lot of promises out there—promises I had no idea how to keep.

The castle’s food stores wouldn’t last long if we were feeding the entire city.

The infrastructure problems would take months, maybe years to fix properly.

And I’d essentially set myself a one-month deadline because my big mouth couldn’t help making dramatic proclamations.

I flopped onto my massive bed, still fully dressed, limbs splayed out like a starfish having an existential crisis.

Mr. Snuggles, who’d been remarkably well behaved throughout the tour, hopped down from my shoulders and grew to the size of a large dog, curling up beside me with his head on my chest.

“What am I going to do, Mr. Snuggles?” I asked, scratching behind his ears. “I can’t let them starve, but I don’t have enough food. I can’t fix centuries of neglect overnight. It’s not like I can wave a magic wand and conjure up a functional sewage system and a few thousand loaves of bread.”

The dragon made a sympathetic rumbling sound that vibrated through my rib cage like a purring washing machine.

“I need to check the treasury,” I muttered.

“See exactly what resources we’re working with.

Though what good is a pile of medieval gold coins going to do?

It’s not like I can waltz into the neighboring kingdom with a sack of Iferona currency and ask for their finest farming equipment.

‘Hello there, good sir! I’m the Dark Lord from next door.

Would you accept these evil-looking coins with my face on them in exchange for your finest non-evil vegetables? ’”

Mr. Snuggles perked up at the mention of the treasury, his one good eye gleaming with interest while the milky blind one stared vaguely in the direction of my left ear.

“You want to show me where it is, buddy?” I asked.

The dragon nodded enthusiastically, hopping off the bed and padding toward the door. He looked back at me expectantly, tail swishing with such excitement you’d think I’d suggested a trip to the dragon park.

“Lead the way,” I said, dragging myself up with all the enthusiasm of a sloth on tranquilizers.

My feet screamed in protest—we’d walked miles today through the city—but curiosity pushed me forward.

If I was going to save this kingdom, I needed to know what I was working with, even if it was just fancy coins I couldn’t spend anywhere.

Mr. Snuggles led me through a series of corridors, each more gothic and dramatic than the last. We passed at least three rooms that seemed to exist solely to house creepy portraits of previous rulers, all of whom appeared to have mastered the art of looking constipated while holding a scepter.

Down several flights of stairs we went, each step taking us deeper into what felt like the world’s most elaborate basement, until finally we reached a massive iron door guarded by two demons who looked like they were made of living stone.

They immediately knelt when they saw me, moving with the grinding sound of rock against rock.

“Dark Lord,” they intoned in perfect unison, like they’d been practicing this moment for centuries.

“Rise,” I said, trying to sound authoritative. “I wish to inspect the treasury.”

They exchanged glances, their stone faces somehow managing to convey surprise. “Of course, my lord. It has been… some time since you last visited.”

One of them produced an enormous key from somewhere within his stony body (I decided not to question the logistics of that—some mysteries are better left unsolved) and unlocked the door. It swung open with a dramatic groan that probably qualified as a sound effect in horror movies.

The treasury wasn’t what I expected. Instead of a room filled with gold coins like some dragon’s hoard from a fantasy movie, it was a vast chamber with different sections.

One area held chests and strongboxes, another displayed weapons and armor on racks, and a third contained shelves of glowing objects that I assumed were magical artifacts or possibly very expensive lava lamps.

“The royal treasury of Iferona,” the guard announced with unnecessary drama. “All is as you left it, my lord, save for what was needed to maintain the realm in your absence.”

I nodded, trying to look like I knew exactly what should be here. “Leave me. I wish to conduct my inspection in private.”

The guards bowed and retreated, closing the door behind them with another theatrical groan. As soon as they were gone, I turned to Mr. Snuggles.

“Okay, buddy, where’s the actual money kept? The stuff we can theoretically use to buy food for starving demon children?”

The dragon trotted over to the section with the chests and strongboxes, nosing at a particularly large one made of black metal with silver runes etched into its surface. It looked like something that should contain either immense treasure or an ancient evil that would devour my soul. Possibly both.

“How do I open it? Is there a key? A password? Do I need to sacrifice a virgin or something? Because if so, I guess I’m in trouble…”

Mr. Snuggles looked at me expectantly, then nudged my hand toward the chest.

“Right. Dark Lord magic, I’m guessing? Or maybe it just recognizes my overwhelming charisma and natural leadership qualities.

” I placed my hand on the chest, and to my surprise, the runes glowed briefly before the lid unlocked with a soft click.

“Or option three: it’s magically keyed to my touch. Less exciting, but more practical.”

I lifted the lid and nearly fell backward. The chest was filled to the brim with gold coins, gemstones, and what appeared to be small ingots of various metals. I’d never seen so much wealth in one place outside of movies about bank heists or documentaries about obscenely rich people.

“Holy guacamole,” I whispered, picking up a handful of coins and letting them trickle through my fingers like the world’s most expensive rain.

They were heavy, clearly real gold, each stamped with a design I recognized as my own royal seal.

“I’m like a medieval billionaire, except with better hair and worse customer service ratings. ”

I moved to the next chest, which opened just as easily. This one contained platinum coins and larger gemstones, some the size of chicken eggs. The third held what appeared to be deeds and titles to properties throughout the realm, all rolled up and sealed with wax bearing my insignia.

“I’m rich,” I said, somewhat dazed. “Like, actually, legitimately, swimming-in-money rich. Not ‘I can finally afford name-brand cereal’ rich, but ‘I could buy the entire cereal company and rename all their products after my pets’ rich.”

Mr. Snuggles made a sound that seemed suspiciously like a dragon’s version of “duh.”

I remembered now. In the game, I’d accumulated vast wealth through conquests, dungeon raids, and centuries of taxation. Even with half the staff gone and the kingdom in decline, there was still enough here to fund a small country for years.

“This changes everything,” I said, mentally calculating how much food and supplies I could purchase with even a fraction of this wealth.

“Or at least it would, if I had any way to actually use it. It’s not like I can walk into a market with these coins and ask for ten thousand loaves of bread and some plumbing fixtures. ”

I sank down onto a nearby chest, the reality of my situation crashing back down on me.

“What good is all this wealth if I can’t actually use it to help anyone?

If only there was some way to convert this into something useful.

Like an interdimensional currency exchange.

Or better yet, an online shopping service. Wouldn’t that be convenient?”

I sighed, thinking back to my old job at OpenSesame.

For all its corporate nonsense and soul-crushing customer service protocols, at least it had been efficient.

You could order practically anything and have it delivered right to your door.

My last thought before the truck hit me had even been wondering if OpenSesame delivered to the afterlife.

“Open sesame,” I muttered sarcastically, waving my hand at the treasure. “Deliver me some actual useful supplies instead of pretty but functionally useless medieval currency.”

A soft chime rang through the treasury chamber, like a notification sound but impossibly more elegant. I froze mid-gesture, my hand still outstretched.

A faint blue glow pulsed once, twice, then expanded outward from my fingertips, coalescing into a translucent rectangular window that hovered about three feet in front of me. The edges shimmered with subtle animation, framing an interface that looked disturbingly familiar.

“What the…” I stumbled backward, nearly tripping over Mr. Snuggles, who let out an indignant huff. The dragon stared at the space where I was looking, his head tilted in confusion. Clearly, he couldn’t see what I was seeing.

I rubbed my eyes, certain I was hallucinating from exhaustion or possibly from inhaling too much ancient treasury dust. But when I looked again, the glowing interface remained, patiently hovering, its blue light casting eerie shadows across the gold coins scattered at my feet.

A logo materialized at the top of the window—the same stylized “OS” I’d worn on my name badge for three years. Below it, text appeared as if being typed by invisible hands.

[Initializing Interdimensional Commerce Facilitation Protocol: Helpdesk Supreme, Assistant Manager of Customer Satisfaction, Version 7.3.4]

[Detecting user… Identity confirmed: Lucien Noir, Dark Lord of Iferona, Account #DL-001]