I Was Mistaken for the Reincarnated Evil Overlord Chapter 39 39: Darin vs. Certain Doom

The next day.

Darin woke up to the absolute worst sound in the world.

Trumpets.

Loud, excited, obnoxious trumpets.

And cheering. Lots of cheering.

Darin sat up so fast he nearly knocked Steve off his bed. "What. The hell. Is that?"

Steve, still groggy, let out a small chirp and flopped back onto the blankets.

Darin stumbled out of bed, threw on so clothes, and stord to the window.

The courtyard below was packed. Nobles, rchants, commoners, and what looked like a full orchestra had gathered. Vendors were selling snacks. People were waving banners.

So lunatic was selling T-SHIRTS.

Darin stared in horror. "Is this a duel or a FESTIVAL?"

Vincent, already lounging in a chair like he hadn't a care in the world, grinned. "Oh, it's definitely both."

Darin turned on him. "How are you so calm?!"

Vincent sipped his tea. "Because I'm not the one fighting a murderous duke today."

Darin threw up his hands. "GREAT. THANKS FOR THE SUPPORT."

The Overlord, unhelpful, snickered in his mind.

"Oh, this is magnificent. Look at them. They're celebrating your imminent death."

Darin clenched his jaw. Not listening. Not listening.

Before he could start panicking further, the door slamd open and the sorceress strode in, looking far too composed for soone witnessing his existential crisis.

"You're awake," she observed. "Good. Get dressed."

Darin blinked. "What, no 'good morning, Darin'? No words of comfort before I walk into my execution?"

She tilted her head. "Would it help?"

Darin opened his mouth. Paused. "…No."

"Then get dressed."

Darin had no say in what happened next.

One second, he was standing there, grumbling. The next, a dozen royal tailors stord in.

Before he could react, they attacked.

Clothes were thrown. Capes were attached. Soone forced a pair of fancy boots onto his feet.

He tried to fight back. He really did.

But within minutes, he had been forcibly stuffed into a ridiculously dramatic black-and-gold dueling outfit.

Vincent whistled. "Oh, that's nice. Very 'mysterious dark lord' vibes."

Darin glared. "I will set this on fire."

Vincent grinned. "That would only add to the aesthetic."

The sorceress, standing off to the side, rely nodded in approval. "Acceptable."

The royal butler, who had apparently been supervising, inspected him critically.

"Hm," the butler said, adjusting Darin's cape. "Passable."

Darin groaned.

The butler nodded, completely unbothered. "Good. Now, your entrance awaits."

Darin froze. "My what?"

Vincent smirked. "Oh yeah. You have an official entrance."

The butler clapped his hands. "Follow , sir."

Darin did not follow willingly.

Darin was shoved (politely but firmly) into the entrance hall, where a professional announcer was waiting.

The man, dressed in extravagant robes, cleared his throat dramatically.

"People of the kingdom!" His voice bood across the courtyard. "Before you stands the challenger! The one spoken of in whispers! The wielder of shadows! The destined Overlord!"

Darin twitched violently. "Oh for the love of—"

"THE GRAND SHADOW BEAST OF THE COURT WALKS BESIDE HIM! THE DRAGON OF DOOM AT HIS HEELS! BEHOLD—"

Darin turned.

Grumble was perched on his shoulder, looking smug. Steve was at his feet, happily chewing his expensive boots.

Darin paled. "Why are they included in this?!"

Vincent patted his back. "Well, Steve did start this whole thing."

The announcer was still talking.

"AND NOW, TO FACE HIS GREATEST BATTLE YET—THE FEARSO, THE DREADED, THE—"

BOOM.

The doors to the dueling grounds slamd open.

And Duke Varian strode in like a walking war cri.

The cheering died instantly.

Varian's massive fra was practically crackling with sheer aura power. His armor glead under the sun, and his gaze locked onto Darin like a predator spotting its next al.

Darin gulped.

Vincent leaned in. "Oh yeah. You're definitely going to die."

The Overlord laughed.

Varian stopped a few feet away, staring down at Darin like he was personally offended by his existence.

"Darin," he said, voice dangerously calm. "Are you prepared to face the consequences of your insult?"

Darin opened his mouth.

Nothing ca out.

Varian narrowed his eyes. "Cat got your tongue?"

Darin blinked.

Then slowly turned to look at Grumble, who was very much a cat and still perched smugly on his shoulder.

The crowd collectively inhaled.

The royal scribe, already writing at the speed of light, added:

"The Overlord, rather than responding with words, simply gestures to his Grand Shadow Beast. A silent declaration. A power move beyond mortal comprehension."

Darin took a deep breath and scanned the arena.

Big mistake.

The crowd was way bigger than expected.

There were thousands of people in the stands. Nobles, rchants, and…

'…'

Darin squinted. "Wait. Are those my villagers?!"

Sure enough—

Greta sat comfortably in the noble section, eating snacks like this was a casual play. Next to her, the villagers waved handmade banners with Darin's face on them.

Darin felt betrayed.

"OH CO ON!"

Greta waved. "Good luck, dearie!"

Darin buried his face in his hands.

"Oh gods. The cultists are here too."

And sure enough, the cultists were present in full force.

"THE OVERLORD SHALL ASCEND!"

"THE FALSE DUKE SHALL FALL!"

"WE SHALL BATHE IN THE BLOOD OF OUR ENEMIES!"

Darin scread "Oh gods. Stop talking about blood!"

To make things worse, the religious groups in the audience had started fighting.

A group of robed figures pointed angrily at another group.

"HERETICS!" one side scread.

"BLASPHERS!" the other side shouted back.

"THE OVERLORD IS THE SAVIOR!"

"NO, HE IS THE DESTROYER!"

"YOUR FAITH IS A LIE!"

"YOUR BEARD IS A LIE!"

And just like that, the religious groups descended into a full screaming match.

Darin ran a hand down his face. "Why is this my life."

Vincent cackled. "Wow, you really know how to bring people together."

Before Darin could respond, the announcer's voice bood again.

"AND NOW—THE MONT WE'VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR! THE CHALLENGER—DARIN, THE OVERLORD OF THE END!"

Darin twitched. "The what now?"

The scribe, still writing furiously, narrated, "The Overlord of the End, what a magnificent title!"

The gate creaked open.

Varian raised his blade.

Darin gulped.

The arena was deafening.

Thousands of people were screaming, banners waved wildly, and sowhere in the distance, Darin could swear he heard soone selling popcorn.

He tried very hard to pretend he wasn't about to die.

Unfortunately, standing directly in front of him, Duke Varian radiated murder.

The massive noble rolled his shoulders, cracking his neck with terrifying precision. His grip on his greatsword was casual, almost bored, as if he was already convinced that this duel would be nothing more than a formality.

Darin, gripping his warhamr like a lifeline, was very much not convinced.

Varian sighed. "I can't believe I had to waste my ti for this."

Darin blinked. "Oh wow. Not even a 'may the best man win'?"

Varian smirked. "Why would I lie to you?"

Darin narrowed his eyes. "Okay, rude."

Varian tilted his head. "You insulted my honor. You let that ridiculous lizard humiliate . You are lucky I am allowing you to die with a weapon in hand."

Darin exhaled sharply. "Yeah, about that—technically speaking, I didn't 'let' Steve do anything."

Varian scoffed. "You take no responsibility?"

Darin threw up his free hand. "HE HAS THE BRAIN CELLS OF A ROTTEN CABBAGE."

Steve, from the sidelines, let out a proud chirp.

The audience erupted into laughter.

Varian, however, did not. His grip on his greatsword tightened ever so slightly.

Darin gulped. "Oh no. I made him angrier."

The Audience Adds Their 'Support'

As if the situation wasn't already bad enough, the spectators decided to contribute.

A nobleman in the front row cupped his hands around his mouth.

"DUKE VARIAN! END THIS FARCE AND CRUSH THE IMPOSTER!"

Another noblewoman scoffed loudly. "Hah! He won't last a single hit! I bet ten gold he runs away!"

Darin imdiately turned toward her. "HEY. I CAN HEAR YOU!"

The noblewoman smirked. "GOOD! THEN YOU CAN HEAR BEING RIGHT!"

The audience laughed.

Darin clenched his jaw. "Do not let the hecklers get to you. Do not let the hecklers get to you—"

Then—

From the opposite side of the arena—

One of the cultists stood up dramatically.

"OVERLORD! SHOW THEM YOUR TRUE POWER!"

Darin groaned. "Oh no."

Another cultist shouted, "UNLEASH YOUR DARKNESS UPON THIS FOOL!"

A priest from the other section stood up in rage. "BLASPHEMY! THE OVERLORD SHALL NOT ASCEND!"

"HERETIC!"

"TRAITOR!"

"YOUR GODS ARE WEAK!"

"YOUR MOTHER IS WEAK!"

Within seconds, the religious groups had descended into full-blown chaos.

Nobles and rchants watched in mild horror as at least three priests started throwing what looked like holy water at a group of cultists, who were counterattacking with cursed salt.

Darin turned to Vincent. "WHY ARE THEY HERE?!"

Vincent, sipping tea from sowhere, shrugged. "They love you."

"I HATE THAT."

A group of Darin's villagers started cheering. "LORD DARIN! SHOW HIM WHAT YOU'RE MADE OF!"

Greta, sitting very comfortably, nodded in agreent. "Yes, dearie! Give him a good bonk!"

Darin ran a hand down his face. "This is a NIGHTMARE."

Varian sighed deeply. "This is a mockery."

Darin nodded furiously. "FINALLY, SOTHING WE AGREE ON."

The royal scribe, still furiously writing in the booth, narrated:

"The Overlord, unaffected by the distractions of re mortals, prepares himself for battle with an air of absolute confidence."

Darin turned back to Varian, pointing aggressively. "You see what I have to deal with?!"

Varian's jaw twitched.

Darin took a slow, careful breath.

"Okay, okay, hold on. Just, before we do anything drastic."

Varian raised an eyebrow. "Are you about to beg?"

Darin scowled. "NO. I am rely suggesting we reconsider the life choices that led us here."

Varian rolled his shoulders. "I have reconsidered. And I choose violence."

Darin clenched his teeth. "You didn't even hesitate!"

Varian cracked his knuckles.

Darin turned to Vincent. "HELP ."

Vincent grinned. "You got this!"

Darin turned to the sorceress. "HELP WITH SOONE SMARTER THAN HIM."

The sorceress crossed her arms. "You're fighting him. Not ."

Darin groaned. "I hate you all."

The Overlord, smug as ever, humd in his mind.

"Darin. Just let guide you."