Page 42 of The Dark Lord Awakens (Dark Service #1)

Lucien/Beau

I woke up feeling absurdly refreshed, which was definitely not normal for me.

Back in my old life, I’d need at least three alarms and the existential dread of losing my job to drag myself out of bed before noon.

But here, in this magical dark lord body, I was wide awake at what felt like an ungodly early hour, my mind clear and energized.

The moment my eyes opened, I spotted a tall, dark figure standing perfectly still at the foot of my bed.

“Holy sh—!” I bolted upright, clutching the silken sheets to my chest like a Victorian maiden protecting her virtue.

Azrael immediately dropped to one knee, head bowed. “Good morning, my lord. I trust you slept well.”

My heart rate gradually returned to something resembling normal. “Azrael. How long have you been standing there?”

“I arrived precisely at dawn to attend to your morning preparations, my lord.”

“Dawn.” I glanced toward the window, where early morning light filtered through heavy curtains. “And you’ve been… standing there? Watching me sleep?”

“I would never presume to disturb your rest, my lord. I merely ensured your chamber remained secure while awaiting your awakening.”

That wasn’t exactly a denial. Had my demon butler been watching me drool on my pillow? The thought sent a shiver down my spine. There was devotion, and then there was whatever this was—something that would probably get you a restraining order and a stern talking-to from HR in the human world.

“Right. Well, in the future, maybe just… knock when it’s time to get up? Instead of the whole creepy stalker routine?”

Azrael’s brow furrowed slightly. “Stalker, my lord?”

“Never mind.” I stretched, surprised again by how good I felt. “So what’s on the agenda today? More camp stuff?”

Azrael rose gracefully to his feet. “Indeed, my lord. After your bath and breakfast, you have a strategic planning meeting with the department heads to discuss long-term improvements for the realm. Following that, your presence is expected at the relief camp, where the new bathing facilities will be inaugurated today.”

“Bathing facilities. Right.” I swung my legs over the side of the bed. “Can’t have thirty-seven thousand demons getting funky. So, breakfast first?”

“I shall have it prepared while you bathe, my lord. Would you prefer the usual selection of traditional Iferona delicacies, or perhaps some of the void provisions?”

The “traditional Iferona delicacies” I’d seen so far included things like blood pudding (actual pudding made from actual blood), shadow-fungus omelets, and some kind of jellied meat that still pulsated when you cut into it. Hard pass.

“Void provisions, definitely. And make it substantial—I’m starving. Something with eggs, meat, pancakes, the works. My stomach feels like it’s trying to digest itself.”

“Of course, my lord. I shall arrange a feast worthy of your appetite.”

Azrael bowed and retreated to the bathing chamber, where I could hear water beginning to flow.

I took a moment to reflect on yesterday’s event and the camp, the images still vivid in my mind.

Thousands of gaunt, desperate demons huddled in makeshift shelters, eyes hollow with hunger.

The goblin refugees, forest elves, and cave dwarves driven from their homes by whatever lurked in the Howling Forest. Healer 47’s frantic efforts to save the most critical cases with limited supplies.

At least the void provisions were making a difference.

The look on their faces when they tasted real food—actual nutritious meals instead of whatever shadow-fungus gruel they’d been surviving on—had been worth every OpenToken spent.

And today they’d get proper bathing facilities.

It was a small step, but an important one.

Hard to rebuild a society when everyone’s starving and filthy.

I still couldn’t wrap my head around the scale of it all. Nearly forty thousand citizens, plus refugees, all depending on me—some random guy who’d been hit by a truck and woken up as their dark lord. Talk about being thrown into the deep end without swimming lessons.

Azrael reappeared in the doorway. “Your bath is prepared, my lord.”

I followed him into the bathing chamber. Steam rose from the surface of the water in the obsidian tub, which had been infused with some kind of fragrant oil that smelled like cedar and spice.

“I’ll take it from here,” I said, already untying my sleep robe. “You can go arrange breakfast.”

Azrael hesitated, looking almost pained. “My lord, it is my duty to?—”

“Azrael.”

A flicker of something—Disappointment? Frustration?—crossed Azrael’s face before his perfect composure returned. “As you wish, my lord. I shall attend to your breakfast and then select appropriate attire for the day’s activities.”

He bowed and exited, closing the door behind him. I waited a moment to make sure he was really gone before dropping my robe and stepping into the bath. The water was perfect—hot but not scalding, the oils making my skin tingle pleasantly.

I sank down with a contented sigh. Maybe being a dark lord wasn’t so bad when it came with perks like this.

Twenty minutes later, feeling thoroughly clean and relaxed, I wrapped myself in a plush black robe and returned to the bedroom.

A small table had been set near the window, laden with an impressive breakfast spread that made my mouth water instantly.

There were fluffy scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, sausages, pancakes drizzled with something that looked like syrup but shimmered with an otherworldly glow, fresh fruit I didn’t recognize, and pastries that seemed to change color slightly as I looked at them.

I sat down and took a bite of the pancakes, closing my eyes in bliss. “Oh my God, that’s amazing.”

“I am pleased it meets with your approval, my lord,” Azrael said, emerging from what appeared to be a walk-in closet. In his arms, he carried what looked like enough fabric to outfit an entire Renaissance faire.

He laid the garments out on the bed with meticulous care.

I eyed them over a forkful of eggs with growing horror.

There were multiple layers of black and crimson silk, leather straps with an alarming number of buckles, what appeared to be a cape with a collar that would rise higher than my head—and were those actual metal spikes on the shoulders?

“What… is all that?” I asked, though I was afraid I already knew the answer.

“Your attire for today, my lord. I have selected the Obsidian Regalia for the morning meeting—it projects appropriate authority while maintaining comfort for extended discussions. For the afternoon visit to the camp, I recommend the Crimson Conqueror ensemble, which allows for greater mobility while still conveying your magnificent station.”

I stared at the ridiculous pile of gothic drama queen clothing, then back at Azrael’s expectant face. There was a limit to how far I was willing to go with this dark lord cosplay, and dressing like the final boss of a JRPG was definitely beyond it.

“Yeah, no. That’s not happening.”

Azrael blinked, clearly taken aback. “My lord?”

“I’m not wearing any of that.” I gestured at the pile with my fork. “I’d look like I’m heading to a very specific kind of nightclub, not running a kingdom.”

“But, my lord, these are traditional garments befitting your station. The Obsidian Regalia was crafted by the finest?—”

“Nope. Not doing it.” I set down my fork and stood up. “In fact, I think it’s time for a wardrobe update.”

I moved to an open space in the room and called out, “Supremo.”

A familiar blue glow appeared in the air, expanding into a translucent window hovering at eye level.

[Helpdesk Supreme welcomes valued customer Lord Lucien. This unit observes that valued customer is preparing for official functions today. May this unit suggest our premium ‘Implements of Torture’ catalog? The Bloodletter’s Collection is currently featured at a 15% discount.]

“Supremo, I need to order some clothes,” I said to the window hovering before me.

[Clothing request acknowledged. Helpdesk Supreme has prepared recommendations based on valued customer’s Dark Lord status.

Available options include: ‘Dread Sovereign Ensemble,’ ‘Nightmare Regalia,’ and ‘Soul Harvester Collection.’ Each includes the requisite spikes, bone accents, and intimidation-enhancing shoulder structures. ]

“No, no, and definitely no,” I replied. “I want normal clothes. Well, nice clothes, but not… whatever horror movie costume party stuff you’re suggesting.”

Azrael stepped forward. “My lord, if these selections do not please you, I can present alternatives. Perhaps the Midnight Sovereign attire? Or the Shadow Emperor Regalia?”

[Helpdesk Supreme agrees with Lord Azrael, Harbinger of Despair. The Midnight Sovereign attire would be most appropriate for a dark lord of your stature, featuring tasteful bone accents and a dramatically elevated collar.]

I stared at the interface in surprise. “You’re taking his side now?”

[Helpdesk Supreme acknowledges all entities according to their appropriate designations.

This unit’s analysis of 7,423 realms indicates that proper Dark Lord attire should include a minimum of three of the following elements: excessive spikes, impractically large shoulder structures, visible bone components, intimidating height enhancements, or garments made from the skin/scales/feathers of vanquished enemies. ]

“How do you know who Azrael is?” I whispered, glancing at my butler.

[Helpdesk Supreme maintains comprehensive data on all account holders and their associated entities. This unit observes that Lord Azrael’s presence registers with… notable distinction.]

I lowered my voice further. “What exactly are you saying about Azrael?”

[Helpdesk Supreme notes only that certain entities possess… deeper signatures than their apparent roles might suggest. Would valued customer like to purchase our ‘Know Thy Servants’ intelligence package for 5,000 additional OpenTokens?]