Dark Born
Copyright© 2025 by Es_Orik
Chapter 17: Dark Energy
Science Fantasy Sex Story: Chapter 17: Dark Energy - A young man is transported to a new world as the Dark Lord, witness his rise from an ordinary college student to a being capable of causing the greatest evil.
Caution: This Science Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Mult Teenagers Consensual Romantic Lesbian Heterosexual Fiction High Fantasy Restart Magic Sharing Harem Cream Pie
“Are you ready, Adam?” Elsa asked.
It was the first day of his training. Elsa had told him to wait outside the inn the night before, and this morning she’d shown up to lead him to their destination. He had expected something a bit more formal, maybe a training hall or barracks, but instead she had brought him to a house, no ... it looked more like a luxurious villa. It was within a large, walled compound surrounded with greenery and fenced on all sides like the residence of some noble. At first, Adam had wondered if it was her home, but the place was clearly abandoned, with no sign of any property and the grass and trees were untended, overgrown and now blocking paths.
She had led him behind the main building, to a yard filled with white sand, and there she surprised him again. He had expected a verbal lesson, maybe even some light stretching or simple exercises to start. Instead, she positioned him across from her and instructed him to unleash his magic on her without restraint, and with the intent to kill. It was so sudden that he thought he hadn’t heard her right and she might be joking, then she had repeated the instruction.
“Are you sure about this?” Adam asked with narrowed eyes.
Elsa nodded. “We need to learn more about your power. I’ll be fine.”
That didn’t reassure him too much. She was a Gold-Rank knight, and he knew how powerful she was, but his magic was different, there were so many unknowns about it, and even she herself had said it was unsettling. He didn’t want to hurt her by accident, or maybe something worse. But she seemed relaxed about the whole thing, maybe it would be alright.
Adam took a breath and stretched out his hand, feeling the familiar dark heat coil in his chest. It was much stronger now than it had been over the past few days. Thinking back to his volcano theory—his method for measuring his own power—his magma level sat just below half. He didn’t need nearly as much effort or focus to reach it anymore. He suspected this was his natural baseline, unless he somehow drew more of that ... No, not something. He decided then to simply call it dark energy.
He let out another breath as the air around his fingers began to warp, then suddenly, a burst of black flame erupted, streaking toward Elsa like a wave of death, but she didn’t so much as flinch. Before it could reach her, a radiant shield made of pure light snapped into existence in front of her, and the flames slammed into it with a thunderous sound. Where the darkness touched the light, the shield hissed and bubbled, and Adam could see the mana being eaten away, corroded as though by acid. Parts of her shield peeled off and vanished, consumed utterly by his flame. But the structure as a whole continued to keep the flames at bay ... for now.
Not willing to risk it, Adam closed his fist and the flames obeyed instantly, shrinking out of existence as though it had never been and Elsa dispersed her shield as well.
She tilted her head slightly to the side and studied him with those deep, emerald eyes, her expression a mix of concern and confusion. “That was ... interesting,” she said finally, keeping her voice controlled. “If you had kept pushing, my shield would’ve failed. Granted, it wasn’t my strongest defense, but it should have been more than enough. It seems ordinary mana is at a disadvantage against your magic. That is a really...”
“A big deal?” Adam finished with a guess.
“Big deal?” she asked incredulously. “That is an understatement, Adam. All magic is mana-based, but yours isn’t, and you’ve just shown it might even be stronger. This isn’t just unusual, it’s catastrophic for everything we think we know. Centuries of theory would crumble overnight and academics would tear themselves apart trying to study it.” Her gaze darkened with unease. “And the Church? They will not tolerate such strange power. Magic that isn’t a blessing from the Divine, that is stronger, it will frighten them. Adam—”
“Be careful? I know,” he said and glanced at her, his jaw tight with worry. He knew that she worshipped the Divine as well; Elios, the One Light, or whatever he was called. It probably wasn’t easy for her dealing with this. His mere existence went against everything she knew, everything she was taught. “What about you? You’ve talked about the academics and the Church, but what do you think about me? What will you do?”
Elsa hesitated. “This is the second time I’ve seen your magic, and knowing it might be stronger than mana is ... surprising. But I still choose knowing over ignorance,” she said calmly. “And as long as I can keep putting every strange new thing about you into a single box—that you’re not from this world—it’s not too hard to reconcile with my beliefs.”
He supposed that made sense. It was easier for her to keep her faith intact by treating him as an exception—an outsider who didn’t belong to this world’s rules—rather than admitting that the Church might be wrong about the very nature of magic.
“Alright,” Adam said quietly, almost to himself. “I’d ... hate it if you weren’t here.”
“I won’t...” she stopped suddenly, as if realizing the mistake of allowing the words to slip out of her mouth, then she shook her head. “Let’s keep going.”
They resumed the training, Adam unleashing controlled bursts of black flame while Elsa, true to her Gold-Rank status, began to repel his magic with growing ease now that she understood its nature. She doubled her light shields, the outer barrier absorbing the brunt of the impact while the inner held firm. Between exchanges, she guided him, offering tips on ramping up intensity, shifting angles, and quickening the speed of each volley.
As his last burst of flame guttered out against her reinforced shields, Adam lowered his hand and stared down at his palm, feeling he had complete mastery over his power now, or at least, one aspect of it. Elsa regarded him for awhile, then she spoke up.
“We’ve seen how your flames fare against my defenses,” she said. “But fights aren’t only about attacking. Let’s test the reverse, how well can your power protect you?”
Adam arched an eyebrow. “You sure? I don’t want to—”
“I’m sure,” she interrupted gently and raised one hand, her palm outward. “I won’t aim to harm you. Just ... brace yourself, breathe deeply, and focus on stopping it.”
Before he could respond, a golden radiance surged around Elsa and formed into half a dozen slender blades made of pure light that hovered in the air before her, humming with restrained power, their edges seeming sharp enough to cut through stone. Adam’s first instinct was to dodge, to move, but he forced himself to stand firm and His heart almost leapt into his throat as the swords launched forward suddenly, streaking toward him like golden arrows.
He almost flinched—muscles tensing, feet shifting involuntarily—but in that split second, he clamped down on the panic and pushed his will forward. Darkness surged at his command. He thrust his hand forward, and a screen of inky blackness erupted in front of him, forming a curved barrier no thicker than a pane of glass yet utterly impenetrable, like a magical windscreen. The light swords struck it with quiet thuds, hissing and fraying before winking out,
When the last blade dissolved, Adam still kept the barrier up, just to be safe, then he exhaled a slow breath and the darkness receded as quickly as it had formed.
Elsa lowered her hand and a faint, impressed smile curving her lips. “You did very well there, Adam,” she remarked. “I was sure I would have to stop it myself.”
“I just focused ... like you said,” he told her.
They pressed on through the morning and the training got even more intense. Adam hurled streams of black flame, from short, vicious bursts to longer, more powerful waves, and Elsa met each one unflinchingly, her light shields adapting with every exchange. Then the roles reversed again. She summoned her golden blades—faster now, more numerous—sending them slicing through the air toward him. Adam’s responses sharpened with every repetition. His dark barrier surged into existence quicker each time, and he experimented under her instruction, making the barrier thicker, broader, until it could finally enclose him completely in a perfect circle of rippling blackness that swallowed light whole.
Hours slipped by unnoticed as the morning turned into afternoon, then at last, Elsa let her final blade dissolve mid-air and she lowered her hand. The yard fell silent, save for the soft whisper of wind threading through the overgrown trees.
She studied him for a moment. “You’re not tired?” she asked in surprise.
Adam paused suddenly at her question, taking stock of himself for the first time. He wasn’t exhausted, no burning muscles, no labored breathing, none of the physical weakness the book explained mana users suffered after deep exertion. His volcano theory seemed to hold true: his magic did not tax his body’s endurance, but instead relied on a deep reservoir of dark energy, or “magma,” and the reservoir had only depleted slightly.
It was hardly a noticeable dip, even after hours of intense use, and it still remained well above the low point from three days ago. He knew that if it fell too low, accessing his power would become more difficult, demanding greater effort and focus to reach. Still, the fact that he didn’t have to worry about suffering from Drain like other magic users was a clear advantage. The only real drawback was the slow recharge. It had taken three days for his reservoir to climb from near-empty after his first conscious and controlled use in the stable to this halfway-full baseline. He didn’t have rapid recovery, but at least the reservoir depleted slowly enough to sustain prolonged fighting if it ever came down to it.
There was also always the chance he could recharge it on his own. The night of the explosion, he’d drawn the dark energy himself—sure, he’d done it unwittingly and caused the blast, but he remembered the sudden rush, the intoxicating surge that had overfilled him and triggered the explosion. If he could learn to control that, to draw it in without losing himself to it, he might refill his reservoir whenever he needed.
How powerful would he become then?
Adam kept all of this to himself...
He didn’t share his working theory with Elsa, not the details of the volcano model, not the slow refill time, nothing at all. He trusted her more than he did anyone else in this world; he’d grown genuinely attached to her, even come to like her in ways that surprised him. But trust had limits, revealing too much about his power was dangerous. It felt like handing over a map to his vulnerabilities. It was shitty to withhold from someone who was risking her own beliefs to help him, but self-preservation always came first.
Some secrets, especially those tied to weakness, had to stay hidden a while longer.
“No,” he answered with a shake of his head. “Not really.”
“I see, you probably have deep energy wells,” Elsa said. “But I’d prefer not to take any chances. You should rest for now, then we’ll do some sword practice before leaving.”
Energy wells, that’s what they called them. But he was sticking with his fuel tank analogy, it was easier for him to visualize, and it already felt natural.
She gestured to a shaded spot beneath a tall tree and they walked together towards it before settling side by side on a cracked stone bench just beyond the sand yard.
Adam wiped sweat from his brow and let out a sigh, then he glanced at Elsa. “Thank you for doing this, really,” he said. “I know you have a lot of other stuff to deal with.”
“You don’t have to thank me,” she replied warmly. “There was a bit of selfishness in my agreeing to this. I just didn’t want to keep worrying about you so much.”
Elsa smiled as she uttered the words, and Adam caught himself staring as she tucked a loose strand of red hair behind her ear. Then he cleared his throat and looked forward.
“Am I that much of a problem?” He asked, raising his brow playfully.
She stared at him, her expression a mix of amusement and disbelief. “Adam, surely you’re joking?” she voiced. “You’ve been attacked in an alley, injured in a raid, kidnapped, and tortured, all within a matter of weeks. If this keeps up, my hair will turn white hair before long.”
Adam enjoyed the light banter between them, and he smiled.
Their relationship had really shifted since that day at the stable, it was like the secrets he kept had been a wall standing between them, and with it out of the way now, they could actually start to know each other, really know each other. He could already see more of her personality shining through. She wasn’t only the serious, dutiful knight who fought against evil and buried her emotions; she could actually be witty, even playful.
“I’ll try to keep that from happening,” he responded easily.
A light chuckle squeezed out of her. “Thank you. I’d appreciate it,” she replied.
The warmth of the moment faded after some time and more serious thoughts began to surface. “Can I ask you a question?” Adam asked and glanced at Elsa, then she gave a nod for him to proceed. “What’s demon magic like? I heard they exist here?”
It was a question he had been debating with himself, and since she hadn’t made any remark about it, he wondered whether she simply didn’t want to acknowledge it, or whether there was no similarity at all. He leaned toward the latter, but needed confirmation.
“Demons don’t exist in your world?” Elsa asked.
“No, not like they do here at least,” Adam said, then he realized he’d told her nothing about his world. “I can tell you more about my world if you want to know.”
She said nothing for a while, just stared at him in surprise, then she smiled softly. “I’d like that,” she said finally. “But to answer your question first, demon magic is no different from any other magic on the continent. Are you asking because of your magic?”
“Yeah, its strange, you’ve even called it unsettling.”
“True, your magic is strange and unusual, but it’s not demonic,” she said. “Demons are blessed by the Divine, just like everyone else. Their power draws on mana.”
“I thought they didn’t worship the Divine?”
“They don’t, they’re like rebellious children, but they are still of the Divine, even if they reject it,” Elsa explained, her tone tinged with a slight annoyance.
“Aren’t the Divine ... good?” he asked slowly.
Elsa fell quiet for a long moment, as if contemplating how to explain something vast and impersonal, then she released a deep, heavy breath before speaking.
“Adam,” she began in a softer voice. “The Divine are neither good nor evil ... they simply are. They are the source of everything in this world. Light cannot exist without darkness, and peace cannot be treasured without war. All things, even those that seem opposed, are part of their design. The Divine work in ways beyond our understanding. Just as there is Thalonis, goddess of beauty and love, there is Agnis, god of fire and war. They maintain a balance ... and we—human, elf, demon—are a part of that balance.”
Adam frowned as the information sank into his mind. He had always assumed that demons were spawned by some opposing force, specifically by Zelphyr, the primordial that they revered. But from what he’d just heard, demons were simply wayward children of the same Divine who chose to rebel against them and worship another entity.
His earlier suspicion, the one he’d quietly nursed ever since feeling that vast, ancient presence brush against his consciousness, slowly hardened in his mind. He’d denied the idea on the basis that he wasn’t a demon, but if the primordial had no inherent tie to demons beyond the one-sided worship, then his strongest defense broke. The entity that had dragged him across worlds, that had pulled him back from death, that had given him this power—
It could be Zelphyr, god of darkness ... a primordial.
Adam understood why Elsa wasn’t even considering the possibility that a primordial might have blessed him. To her, it was like believing the oldest entity in existence—one that had birthed her very gods, a being no one had ever known, that many probably considered myth—had personally chosen him, out of all other creation. The idea was so far beyond the boundaries of what she deemed possible that it never even crossed her mind. It was just too impossible to consider that believing he was from another world was easier.
Adam sat up straighter and swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Why did they turn away from the Divine and choose to follow a primordial?” he asked slowly.
“I don’t know,” Elsa replied “Almost nothing is known about the primordials, only that the Divine were born from them. Our world began when they retreated from it.”