How to Become the Dark Lord and Die Trying (Dark Lord Davi #1)

by Django Wexler

The way they’re gaping at me isn’t promising, but you have to start somewhere. I put my hands on my hips, push my cape back over my shoulders, and tell them, “Hello, my friends! I am the next Dark Lord! Will you join me?” The one with the spear stabs me right in the tit. Fucking orcs.

So, first of all, where the fuck do you get off giving me advice, imaginary person?

I kind of want her to step on me and make me lick her toes, if we’re being honest. What can I say? Something about a girl who can wrap her fingers all the way around my neck does it for me. Her biceps are as big as my thighs.

Definitely going to rescue Johann, though, when my army of minions sweeps through the Kingdom. Nobody will damage his perfect ass while I’m Dark Lord.

“Do you, Lucky the lizard-wilder, possess the quality of having good luck, usually known as ‘being lucky’?” “Oh!” He ponders for a moment. “Not really.”

Slaughtering weird-looking creatures is, thankfully, something the orcs have considerable experience with.