I Was Mistaken for the Reincarnated Evil Overlord Chapter 49 49: The Church’s Next Plan

The morning after the massacre of the assassin hideout, Darin woke up feeling… good.

Soo good that it felt suspicious.

He stretched, rolling his shoulders as he sat up in bed, blinking blearily at the ceiling. No imdiate pain. No overwhelming existential dread. No voice in his head whispering ominous threats about "power" or "destiny."

He squinted. "Sothing's wrong."

Steve, curled up on his stomach, let out a sleepy chirp and drooled on his shirt.

Darin groaned, shoving the tiny nace off. "Ugh, Steve, that's disgusting—move…"

From across the room, Vincent humd, lounging in a chair like a lazy king. "Morning, Lord Disaster. Did you sleep well?"

Darin squinted at him.

Vincent was suspiciously cheerful.

Too cheerful.

Darin frowned. "What did you do this ti?"

Vincent grinned. "Oh, nothing at all. It's been a very peaceful night."

Lies.

Darin narrowed his eyes. "Vincent, I swear to the gods if yo—"

Before he could finish, the doors to his chambers slamd open.

The Sorceress stood in the doorway, arms crossed, looking like she hadn't slept. Her dark eyes swept the room before landing on Vincent. "We need to talk."

Vincent sighed dramatically. "Ah, and here I thought we were going to have a slow morning."

Darin, alarm bells now ringing in his head, looked between them. "Wait. Wait, wait, wait. What do you an 'talk'? Talk about what?"

The Sorceress didn't even glance at him. "Vincent. Now."

Vincent groaned and stretched. "Fine, fine, no more jokes. If you insist." He stood and sauntered toward the door. As he passed Darin, he smirked.

"Don't go anywhere, Lord Disaster. This concerns you too."

Darin scowled. "When will you ever leave."

Vincent winked. "You say that, but I know you'd be lost without ."

Darin grabbed a pillow and threw it at him.

Vincent dodged.

And then he was gone, slipping through the doorway with the Sorceress.

Darin sat there for a long mont, staring at the now-closed door.

Then he exhaled sharply and turned to Steve.

"...Yeah, sothing's definitely wrong."

Steve yawned.

*The Throne Room*

The King sat comfortably in his throne, sipping wine far too early in the morning, watching Vincent and the Sorceress approach.

"You look exhausted," he remarked to the Sorceress.

She exhaled through her nose. "Because I had to clean up the Church's ss last night."

The King's smirk widened slightly. "Ah. The assassins? They were jumping around like flies"

Vincent sighed and leaned against a nearby pillar. "They were trying to be clever. It didn't work out for them."

The Sorceress crossed her arms. "They're dead."

The King humd. "A sha."

He did not sound even remotely sad.

Vincent rolled his shoulders. "I an, they did try to kill Darin like, five different ways. Can't say I feel bad."

The King chuckled. "And yet, sohow, he still has no idea."

The Sorceress shot Vincent a look. "Because you didn't tell him."

Vincent shrugged. "Why ruin the surprise?"

The Sorceress pinched the bridge of her nose. "Vincent."

"Relax," Vincent said, waving a hand. "He doesn't need to know everything. Yet."

The King, still looking amused, took another sip of wine. "So. The Church made their move. And they failed. Spectacularly."

The Sorceress nodded. "And that's the problem."

Vincent arched a brow. "Oh?"

The Sorceress inhaled sharply. "They won't stop now."

The King's smirk didn't waver. "Of course they won't. That's what makes this so fun."

Vincent grinned. "Oh, I like where this is going."

The Sorceress scowled. "You two are impossible."

The King ignored her. "So. Tell . How would the Holy Church of the Goddess of Growth and Healing respond to this failure?"

Vincent's smirk sharpened. "If I had to guess? Sothing dramatic."

The Sorceress nodded grimly. "Worse. Sothing public."

The King humd thoughtfully. "Then we let them make their move."

The Sorceress narrowed her eyes. "And what happens when they try sothing that actually works?"

Vincent chuckled. "Oh, please. At this point, they'd need divine intervention to pull off anything competent."

anwhile… The Church Was About to Prove Vincent Wrong

The Holy City of Veneris was a grand sight. Towering white spires, golden statues, and marble streets made it the most breathtaking religious stronghold in the kingdom.

At its heart, the Grand Cathedral lood over everything, a shining beacon of divine authority.

Inside, the High Council of the Church sat in a circular chamber, all their expressions grim.

The Holy Pope sat at the head, his hands folded in front of him.

"We have failed," he said simply.

The room was silent.

Then—

One of the elder bishops spoke. "The assassins were eliminated? Are you sure about this?"

The Pope's fingers twitched. "Not just eliminated. Completely Erased."

The council shifted uncomfortably.

Another bishop exhaled. "Then it is as we feared. The Overlord's influence has already taken hold faster than we anticipated."

The Pope's gaze was dark. "No. This is worse than before. The Sorceress and Lord Vincent are protecting him. And that demon woman—" his lip curled slightly "was there as well."

A heavy pause.

Then—

An elder priestess leaned forward. "The kingdom will not turn against them. The King has already made his stance clear. He will make use of this."

"Then we must make it for him," the Pope said.

The council stilled.

The youngest bishop hesitated. "You an—?"

The Pope's voice was absolute. "We move forward with divine judgnt."

Loud murmurs rippled through the room.

One bishop, clearly uneasy, asked, "Do we have the authority to act against the royal court?"

The Pope's gaze burned. "We do not need authority. We need faith….and faith, is sothing we can easily use."

Another elder spoke up. "What do you propose?"

The Pope stood.

"We will not assassinate him in the dark," he declared.

"We will condemn him in the light."

Silence.

The High Council, composed of the most devout and influential mbers of the Holy Church, exchanged uneasy glances.

The Pope had made his stance clear.

Darin had to go.

But the King?

The King was still a problem.

A direct attack on the throne was impossible. The Church relied on the crown for land, influence, and the ability to operate freely. If they outright defied the King, they would lose everything.

No.

They couldn't challenge the throne directly.

But they could turn the people against it.

An elder bishop, a woman with sharp eyes and silver hair, folded her hands together. "If we act too boldly, the King will retaliate."

The Pope nodded. "Which is why we must make it so that, when the ti cos, the people beg us to act."

A younger priest hesitated. "You an…?"

The Pope's eyes glead with fervor. "We make the Overlord a problem so large, so terrifying, that the King has no choice but to surrender him."

The High Council murmured among themselves.

It was brilliant.

A war of swords would fail. But a war of faith? Of public perception?

That was sothing they could win.

Another bishop, older and wise, leaned forward. "And if the King refuses?"

The Pope exhaled slowly.

"Then he will be seen as a traitor to the Goddess herself."

The room stilled.

A direct rebellion was out of the question.

But if the people and the nobles, the rchants, the commoners, all turned against the King?

Then the King's own court would turn on him without a second thought.

And that?

That was a battle the King could not win, history made sure of that.

The Pope rose from his seat.

"Prepare the announcent quickly. Spread the word to every church, every town, every village."

The bishops bowed.

They would not attack.

They would not demand.

They would make the people demand for them.

anwhile, Back at the Palace…

Darin yawned as he flopped onto a couch, rubbing his temples. "Okay, so let's summarize. For the past days I have been targeted by assassins but luckily dodged them all and now the Church is mad at . Again."

"Why am I not even surprised…."

Vincent, lounging across from him, smirked. "That's an understatent. They want you purged from existence."

Darin sighed. "Yeah, yeah. But they're not stupid. If they could've just marched in here and demanded my head, they would have done it already. Which ans…"

The Sorceress closed her book with a soft thump. "They're planning sothing."

Darin's stomach dropped.

Of course they were.

Vincent twirled his teacup lazily. "The question is, what?"

Darin groaned. "Can't they just tell us what they're going to do? Would that be too much to ask?"

Vincent grinned. "Unfortunately, not everyone announces their sches out loud. Unlike you, Lord Disaster."

Darin threw teacup at him.

Vincent dodged effortlessly.

The Sorceress leaned back, arms crossed. "We need to figure out what their next move is before they make it. If we're reacting to them, we've already lost."

Darin sighed. "Great. So we're just waiting for them to try sothing?"

Vincent's grin widened.

"Oh, don't worry, Darin."

He stretched lazily, looking far too pleased with himself.

"I already have a plan."