I Was Mistaken for the Reincarnated Evil Overlord Chapter 43 43: A Very Uncomfortable Awakening

The first thing Darin felt was warmth.

The kind that seeped into his body, gentle yet firm. A steady rise and fall beneath his head, the scent of sothing faintly floral in the air. His mind, still sluggish, struggled to grasp where he was. He felt… safe? Comfortable? That didn't seem right.

mories drifted back in pieces. A fight. Blood. A voice that wasn't his. Power surging through his veins. Then—pain. Overwhelming, searing pain. His body had given out, crumpling under the weight of everything. And now… now he was—

Wait.

Why did the ground feel soft?

Why was sothing cool and smooth running through his hair?

Darin's brain clicked into place just as he realized his head was resting on sothing that was very much not the ground.

His eyes cracked open, vision still blurred, but just clear enough to take in the delicate curve of a thigh beneath him.

A very familiar thigh.

The sorceress's thigh.

Darin went completely rigid.

The hand in his hair stilled.

A beat of silence stretched between them, heavy with sothing unspoken.

Then, her voice, quiet, softer than he'd ever heard it before.

"…You're awake."

Darin's brain short-circuited.

A thousand thoughts crashed into each other at once. Why am I here? Why is she letting do this? Why does it feel kinda nice? Wait—NO, focus!

His mouth, anwhile, worked faster than his brain.

"…I feel like I should apologize."

The sorceress humd, neither confirming nor denying. "You're lucky I decided you were worth keeping alive."

Darin swallowed. "Right. That. Good to know."

A shadow lood over them.

Vincent's smug voice cut through the mont like a dagger.

"Well, this is adorable."

Darin groaned.

The sorceress, to her credit, didn't imdiately set Vincent on fire. Though judging by the way her fingers twitched, it was a close call.

Vincent crouched beside them, grinning. "You sure you don't rember your past life, Darin? Because this seems like a position you've been in before."

Darin forced himself to sit up, ignoring the way his body protested. His head swam, his muscles scread, but at least now he wasn't making things even more awkward by using the sorceress as a pillow.

Steve let out a happy chirp from nearby, tail wagging.

Grumble yawned, completely unbothered.

Greta, sitting comfortably in a chair, popped a grape into her mouth and nodded approvingly.

"Ah, young love," she mused.

Darin nearly died on the spot.

The sorceress turned her head sharply. "Greta, do not start."

Greta smirked.

Darin, desperate to escape the conversation, groaned and rubbed his face. "Okay. Cool. I'm alive. Can I pass out again?"

Vincent patted his shoulder. "Nope! You have to get up and face reality now."

Darin sighed.

Then, darkness took him again.

The next ti Darin woke, it was slow.

His senses returned in pieces. First, warmth, blankets draped over him, heavy and comforting. Then, the dull throb of pain, not gone, but distant, like an old wound instead of an open gash.

He groaned, stretching slightly. His body protested, but compared to before, it was—

"Ahhh… bed," he muttered.

His fingers brushed against sothing warm.

And smooth.

And human.

Darin's eyes snapped open.

And he was face to face with soone else.

Inches away.

A pair of intense, unblinking eyes stared back at him, filled with fanatic devotion.

A familiar face.

One that had haunted him. One that had started this entire nightmare.

The stranger.

The man who had knelt before him in a village square. The lunatic who had first called him "Overlord." The reason his life had spiraled into absolute insanity.

And he was staring at Darin.

Silently.

Watching.

Darin did the only rational thing.

He scread.

And punched him directly in the face.

"GAH—!" The stranger recoiled, clutching his nose.

Vincent, from the other side of the room, nearly choked on his tea.

Greta snorted. "Oh dear."

The sorceress, sitting dangerously close, let out a long, slow sigh.

Darin scrambled back, nearly falling off the bed as he yanked the blankets up like a flimsy shield.

"WHAT THE HELL?!"

The stranger did not look offended. If anything, he looked thrilled.

Even as blood dripped from his nose, his expression did not falter. Instead, his eyes glead with sothing dangerously close to reverence.

"A test of reflexes, my lord? Genius. You truly never let your followers grow complacent."

Darin's brain short-circuited.

"What."

The stranger nodded, entirely serious. "To awaken in the presence of an unworthy being and strike without hesitation… Ah, a display of power even while in recovery. Truly, your mind is unparalleled."

Darin pointed at him violently. "NO. That wasn't a test. That was a reaction to waking up and finding a LUNATIC inches from my face!"

The stranger bead. "Yes. Exactly. A reminder that one must always be prepared for unseen threats."

Darin froze.

Then dragged a hand down his face.

"I hate YOU!!"

Vincent, still recovering from his laughing fit, grinned. "Darin, I think you just assaulted your biggest fan."

The sorceress, still rubbing her temples, muttered, "You could have aid better."

"YOU'RE NOT HELPING!"

Greta took a leisurely sip of tea. "I think it's delightful."

Darin turned back to the stranger, still trying to process reality. His head hurt.

"What are you even doing here?!"

The stranger straightened, adopting what he clearly thought was a dignified stance, despite still being on the floor from getting punched in the face.

"My lord, I could not simply leave your side after such a grand battle."

Darin froze.

Oh. Right. The battle.

mories crashed into him like a warhamr to the skull.

Varian. The duel. The arena crumbling beneath their fight. His body breaking. Losing control.

The Overlord.

Darin's hands clenched.

"How long…" His voice was hoarse. "How long was I out?"

Vincent humd. "A full day. You had everyone worried for a bit."

Greta smiled. "Not . I knew you wouldn't die that easily, dear."

Darin barely heard them. His mind was still reeling. A full day? That ant—

He turned slowly back to the stranger.

"And YOU? You've been sitting here the whole ti?!"

The stranger nodded proudly. "Of course. Your divine presence demands unwavering loyalty."

Darin felt a headache forming. "You—no, wait what?"

The stranger's eyes glead. "Your battle was a masterstroke of deception, my lord. Luring your enemy into a false sense of security before unleashing your true might? A stroke of unparalleled genius!"

Darin's stomach dropped.

He did not want to hear this.

He already knew what the Overlord had done.

The destruction. The ease with which he had crushed Varian. The way he had spoken, toying with his opponent like it was all so grand amusent.

And worst of all—

He had liked it.

A shiver ran down Darin's spine.

The stranger continued, unaware of his internal horror.

"Your movents, your power… Ah, the prophecy was true after all. The kingdom has no choice but to recognize your dominion now."

Darin clutched his blanket like a lifeline.

"No. NO. I don't have dominion over ANYTHING."

The stranger laughed. "Your modesty only proves your greatness further, my lord."

Darin grabbed his own face.

"STOP SAYING THAT!"

Vincent was wiping away tears at this point. "Darin, buddy, just accept your fate. You're the people's overlord now."

Darin turned on him. "SHUT UP!"

'…'

The room had finally quieted down.

The stranger was still grinning like Darin had just perford a divine miracle. Vincent was clearly having the ti of his life, like this was the most entertaining thing he had ever witnessed.

Greta? She just looked pleased, like a mother watching her child accomplish sothing impressive—horrifying, but impressive.

And the sorceress?

She was watching him.

Too closely.

"Darin."

Her voice wasn't sharp, but it wasn't soft either.

Darin tensed, already knowing he wasn't going to like this conversation.

"Yeah?" he muttered, trying to sound casual.

She didn't answer right away.

Then—"What exactly happened out there?"

Darin blinked. "You were watching. Pretty sure you saw it better than I did."

The sorceress didn't react to the deflection. "I want to hear it from you."

Darin shifted uncomfortably.

He knew what she was really asking.

And he did not want to answer.

The power. The clarity. The effortlessness.

For the first ti in his life, he had moved without doubt. Every action had felt perfect, every decision made with absolute confidence.

And, for a few terrifying monts—

It had felt right.

Darin swallowed.

"I…" He exhaled. "I don't rember everything."

The sorceress didn't look away. "But you rember enough."

Darin hesitated.

Then, reluctantly—"Yeah."

She studied him for a second longer, then nodded. "Alright."

…That was it?

Darin blinked. "Wait, that's all?"

The sorceress raised an eyebrow. "What, were you expecting a dramatic speech?"

"Kinda, yeah."

Vincent snorted.

The sorceress just shook her head. "You're an idiot."

Darin relaxed slightly. Good. She wasn't pressing it.

He could deal with that.

Unfortunately, the stranger wasn't done.

"My lord, there is no need to explain yourself." His eyes practically glowed with admiration. "Every move you made was calculated brilliance. A display of strategy and power beyond mortal comprehension."

Darin let his head fall back against the pillow.

Vincent clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Cheer up, Lord Disaster. You survived!"

Greta smiled. "And you've thoroughly cented your reputation. Whether you like it or not."

Darin groaned. Of course he had.

Sowhere, deep in his mind—

The Overlord chuckled.

And Darin really, really didn't want to think about why.