I Was Mistaken for the Reincarnated Evil Overlord-Chapter 38: Darin Learns About His Imminent Doom

Darin was doing his best to pretend everything was fine.

This was difficult, because absolutely nothing was fine.

He was still sore from training, his hands ached from gripping the warhammer too hard, and his entire body felt like it had been personally dragged through a battlefield.

Which, at this point, was probably foreshadowing.

Vincent, still his usual smug self, had been casually sipping tea while Darin tried not to die. The sorceress was calmly analyzing a map, as if they weren't preparing for Darin's impending execution.

"So," Darin said, forcing his voice to be calm and rational, "hypothetically speaking, what would happen if I just... didn't show up tomorrow?"

Vincent raised an eyebrow. "You mean if you ran?"

Darin nodded. "Exactly."

Vincent hummed, setting his tea down. "Well, then you'd be declared a coward, a traitor, and possibly a fugitive. Also, the duke would personally hunt you down and probably skin you alive."

Darin blinked. "...Oh."

The Overlord chuckled darkly in his head.

"I'd actually like to see that. The hunt would be quite entertaining."

Darin gritted his teeth. "Shut. Up."

Vincent continued, completely unaware of Darin's internal mental suffering. "Also, considering you've been labeled as the 'Overlord,' I'm pretty sure it would cause a civil war."

Darin choked. "CIVIL WAR?!"

The sorceress finally looked up, unimpressed. "Darin. The nobles already think you're some kind of shadow-prophecy overlord. If you run, they'll assume you're plotting something."

Darin buried his face in his hands. "Why does every possible outcome end with me being labeled as a war criminal?"

Vincent smirked. "Because it's funny?"

Darin groaned loudly. "I HATE THIS KINGDOM."

The Overlord laughed harder.

"Oh, but you thrive in it, Darin. This is exactly where you belong."

Before Darin could spiral into another existential crisis, a loud knock on the door made them all turn.

A guard stepped in, looking slightly nervous. "Sir overlord?"

Darin grimaced. "Please don't call me that."

The guard ignored him. "You are being summoned to the throne room. Immediately."

Darin frowned. "Why?"

The guard hesitated. "...It's about the duke."

Silence.

Then—

"Oh no," he whispered. "What did Steve do this time?"

*The Throne Room - 5 Minutes Later*

Darin entered the throne room cautiously, fully expecting chaos.

He was not disappointed.

The nobles were whispering amongst themselves. The royal guards were standing very, very stiffly. The royal scribe was furiously writing with the kind of enthusiasm only a man obsessed with history could manage.

And in the center of it all—

The king sat comfortably on his throne, looking deeply amused.

On his lap, Grumble was curled up smugly, accepting royal head scratches like he had already conquered the kingdom.

Steve was wagging his tail at the king's feet, still chewing on the expensive silk robe, utterly unaware of the sheer amount of political tension in the room.

Darin pinched the bridge of his nose. "Oh gods. I don't even know what happened yet, and I'm already in pain."

The king looked up at him with mild amusement. "Ah, Darin. Just in time."

Darin straightened awkwardly. "Uh. For what, exactly?"

The king gestured lazily. "For your public execution, of course."

Darin choked violently. "WHAT?!"

Vincent, who had casually followed Darin inside, snorted. "Oh, he's kidding. Probably."

Darin turned to the king, wide-eyed. "You're kidding, right? RIGHT?"

The king chuckled. "Relax, Darin. I simply meant that Duke Varian has just publicly declared that he intends to crush you beyond recognition in your duel tomorrow."

Darin froze.

"...Oh."

The nobles murmured in excitement.

The scribe enthusiastically wrote down every word.

"The Overlord, upon hearing the Duke's challenge, remains eerily silent. His expression unreadable. A calculated move, perhaps?"

Darin stared at the scribe. "What part of me looks calculated right now?!"

The king hummed. "You see, after what happened last time, Duke Varian is quite determined to reclaim his dignity."

Darin blinked. "...Last time?"

The king tilted his head innocently. "Oh? Have you already forgotten how your small dragon companion—" he gestured lazily at Steve, "—knocked him unconscious in front of half the palace?"

Darin's stomach dropped further.

He turned slowly to Steve.

Steve, still chewing on the king's robe, let out a tiny happy chirp.

Darin inhaled deeply.

Then exhaled sharply.

"...Right. That happened."

The king smirked. "Yes. And now, the duke is out for blood."

Darin turned very slowly back to the king. "Define 'blood.'"

The king chuckled lightly. "Oh, you know. The usual. Your complete and utter defeat. Your total humiliation. Your possible destruction."

Darin made a strangled noise.

The scribe nodded enthusiastically and wrote:

"The Overlord, despite being gravely outmatched, does not back down. A warrior's resolve burns in his gaze."

Darin pointed at him violently. "STOP WRITING THAT!"

The scribe ignored him, writing even faster.

Darin turned back to the king. "Your Majesty. You do realize that I am not actually an overlord, right?"

The king smirked. "Oh, I know."

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Darin stared. "Then why are you letting this happen?!"

The king leaned forward slightly. "Because, Darin..." His smirk widened. "It's entertaining."

Darin let out an agonized groan. "I am surrounded by lunatics."

Vincent clapped him on the shoulder. "Don't worry, Darin! You might not die!"

Darin turned to him, eyes wild. "MIGHT?! THAT'S NOT COMFORTING!"

Vincent grinned. "Well, you're technically stronger now! I mean, sure, you still have no stamina, and your technique is a disaster, but—"

Darin grabbed Vincent's collar. "STOP. TALKING."

Vincent just patted his hands reassuringly. "There, there, buddy. You'll be fine."

Darin exhaled slowly. "Okay. Okay. I just need to—need to think. Maybe I can, maybe I can bribe him?"

The king hummed. "Bribing a noble knight to forfeit an honor duel? Bold."

Darin nodded rapidly. "Yes. Bold. A great idea."

The sorceress sighed. "It won't work."

Darin groaned. "WHY?"

Vincent smirked. "Because he hates you."

Darin clenched his fists. "HE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW ME."

Vincent shrugged. "Well, you did humiliate him—"

"I DID NOTHING."

The king hummed. "Ah, but your tiny dragon did."

Darin turned to Steve, who was still happily gnawing on the king's robe, oblivious to the fact that he had just accidentally ruined Darin's life.

Darin exhaled. "Steve, buddy, do you have any idea what you've done?"

Steve looked up at him.

Then wagged his tail.

Darin buried his face in his hands.

The nobles continued whispering.

The scribe, eyes practically glowing, wrote:

"The Overlord, betrayed by his own beast, steels his heart for the battle ahead."

Darin screamed internally.

The Overlord, who had been quietly enjoying all of this, finally spoke in his mind.

"Serves you right for being an idiot."

Darin inhaled sharply. No. I am not engaging with you right now.

The Overlord chuckled. "What's the matter? You're acting as if you're going to lose."

Darin clenched his teeth. Because I AM.

The Overlord tisked. "Now, now. That's no way for a warrior to think."

I AM NOT A WARRIOR. I AM A BLACKSMITH WHO GOT STUCK IN A NIGHTMARE.

"And yet," the Overlord purred, "here you are."

Darin groaned out loud, "If you repeat that line again I'm going to fricken beat you up in my dream!"

Vincent raised an eyebrow. "You okay?"

"No," Darin replied flatly.

The king finally stretched, yawning. "Well, this has been very amusing, but I believe we should prepare for tomorrow's festivities."

Darin paled. "Festivities?"

The king smirked. "It's an honor duel between two important figures. Of course there's going to be an audience."

"Wait. How many people are going to be watching?"

The scribe, who was far too excited, answered immediately. "Oh, all the nobles, half the kingdom's elite, several foreign dignitaries, and possibly a few religious figures. You're quite the sensation right now!"

Darin stared at him in horror. "WHY WOULD YOU TELL ME THAT?"

The scribe beamed. "To capture your reaction for the records, of course!"

Darin wheezed.

Vincent patted his back. "Don't pass out, buddy. You still have to lose spectacularly tomorrow."

Darin glared. "I hate you."

The king smirked. "Darin, you'll be fine. After all, you've been training, haven't you?"

Darin let out a very long, very deep sigh. "Yes. But training does not equal not dying."

The king chuckled. "True. But it will be entertaining nonetheless."

Darin turned back to the throne, ready to beg for mercy—

And then he saw Grumble.

The tiny shadow cat, still lounging in the king's lap, was watching him smugly. His glowing eyes flickered with pure satisfaction. His tail flicked lazily, as if he knew exactly how much Darin was suffering.

Darin narrowed his eyes. "Grumble. I swear, if you somehow make this worse, I'm throwing you into a river."

Grumble yawned dramatically and stretched.

The scribe, with unmatched dedication, immediately wrote:

"The Overlord, in a rare moment of vulnerability, seeks counsel from his mighty beast. The Grand Shadow Beast of the Court acknowledges him but offers no words. A test of his master's strength, perhaps?"

The king chuckled. "Well, Darin, I'd suggest you get some rest."

Darin straightened. "Wait. That's it? You're not going to—? I don't know, help me?"

The king smirked. "Now, now. That would ruin the fun."

Darin made a high-pitched, strangled sound of suffering.

Vincent clapped his back again. "Come on, buddy. Let's get you mentally prepared for tomorrow."

Darin groaned loudly as Vincent practically dragged him out of the throne room.

As the doors closed behind them, he heard the king sigh contentedly.

"Ah. This will be quite the event."

The scribe nodded furiously, writing his final notes for the evening.

"And thus, the Overlord departs to prepare for battle. The kingdom awaits the clash of titans. Will he emerge victorious, or will his legacy be written in defeat? Tomorrow, history shall decide."

He paused, then added, for good measure—

"The Grand Shadow Beast, watching all unfold, purrs in silent judgment."

Grumble purred.