I Was Mistaken for the Reincarnated Evil Overlord-Chapter 37: the King is Having a Great Time

While Darin was having an existential crisis over the Overlord puppeteering his body like a marionette, the palace was experiencing a very different kind of chaos.

It was the kind of chaos that involved a smug shadow cat, an overenthusiastic baby dragon, and a surprisingly indulgent monarch.

Grumble, also known by his very official title, The Grand Shadow Beast of the Court, was currently lounging in King Aldric's lap like he owned the entire kingdom.

Which, in the eyes of many, he basically did.

The king sat comfortably in his throne, one arm lazily draped around the smug little creature as Grumble purred in satisfaction. Every so often, the king would idly scratch behind his ears, and Grumble would graciously allow it.

The scribe, who had been way too enthusiastic about Grumble's newfound political status, was already scribbling at record speed.

"The Grand Shadow Beast, in his infinite wisdom, has chosen to grace His Majesty's lap with his divine presence. This is surely an omen of continued prosperity for the kingdom."

The king glanced at the scribe, amused. "An omen, you say?"

The scribe nodded vigorously. "Of course, Your Majesty! His placement upon your royal person signifies harmony between the mortal and shadow realms!"

The king chuckled. "Ah. Good to know."

Meanwhile, across the throne room, Steve was gleefully playing with one of the king's golden crown ornaments, tossing it in the air like a kitten with a ball of yarn. The tiny dragon let out a delighted chirp every time it bounced.

The nearby palace guards watched in absolute horror, unable to decide if they should intervene or simply accept their fate.

One of them leaned toward the other, whispering, "Should... should we stop him?"

The other guard shook his head, eyes wide with fear. "You try taking a toy away from the royal dragon."

They both fell silent as Steve pounced on the golden ornament again, tail wagging furiously.

The king, watching all of this unfold, merely smirked.

He gestured lazily. "Let him play."

Steve squeaked happily and rolled onto his back, tossing the ornament into the air and catching it between his stubby claws.

The scribe gasped dramatically and immediately began writing again.

"The King, in his infinite wisdom, has bestowed His Majesty's personal treasure upon the Young Dragon of the Court. This act of generosity strengthens the bond between the royal family and the Sacred Beasts of the overlord."

The king tilted his head. "Ah. He's a Sacred Beast now?"

The scribe nodded. "Without question, Your Majesty!"

The king hummed in amusement and sipped his wine.

Grumble, still lounging in the king's lap, stretched luxuriously and flicked his tail, knocking a royal decree off the table without even looking at it.

A nearby noble inhaled sharply. "The Shadow Beast has rejected the decree!"

The scribe nearly vibrated with excitement as he scribbled furiously.

"The Grand Shadow Beast, with great discernment, has dismissed a matter of governance. This signifies the unworthiness of said decree and a divine call for reconsideration."

The king raised an eyebrow and looked down at Grumble. "Was it truly unworthy?"

Grumble blinked slowly.

Then, deliberately, he yawned.

The scribe gasped like he had just witnessed a miracle.

"His Majesty has received divine confirmation."

The king chuckled. "Well then. I suppose I shall have to rethink that decree."

The nobles whispered amongst themselves, some looking terrified, others contemplative, while some kneel in reverence.

Steve, oblivious to the political implications of what had just happened, was now using the king's very expensive silk robes as a chew toy.

A noblewoman nearly fainted.

The scribe, still scribbling frantically, muttered, "So many divine blessings in one day... I can hardly keep up..."

The guards, the nobles, the advisors, everyone was watching this with varying degrees of disbelief.

And yet, nobody stopped it.

Because at this point, questioning The Grand Shadow Beast of the Court or The Young Dragon of the Court was practically an act of treason.

And besides—

The king was enjoying himself way too much.

He scratched Grumble behind the ears again, watching as Steve gleefully rolled across the throne room floor, and smirked.

"...I should have gotten pets years ago."

Grumble purred.

The scribe, overcome with emotion, wrote faster.

"His Majesty has spoken true wisdom this day."

The king chuckled.

The throne room was a picture of ridiculous indulgence.

The king, lounging comfortably in his throne, absently scratched Grumble behind the ears as the smug shadow cat basked in royal affection.

Steve was still rolling around, playing with the king's crown ornament like it was the best toy in existence. The tiny dragon had now fully wrapped himself in the king's very expensive silk robe, gnawing on the edge like an overgrown puppy.

The scribe was still furiously writing, eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

"His Majesty, a ruler of both wisdom and strength, doth bestow upon the Sacred Beasts the comfort of his court, further cementing their divine status as protectors of the realm."

The nearby nobles whispered amongst themselves.

Some seriously considered writing this down in official history records.

The guards just tried to avoid eye contact with Steve, lest they somehow offend the "Young Dragon of the Court" and get set on fire.

Everything was peaceful.

Everything was calm.

Everything was absolutely ruined the second the throne room doors slammed open with an ear-splitting BANG.

The sudden force made the great marble doors rattle on their hinges.

A few nobles shrieked. The guards immediately straightened to attention.

Even the scribe flinched, accidentally smudging his latest note. "Oh dear gods—"

And standing there, framed dramatically by the entrance, was Duke Varian.

He stood tall, broad-shouldered, and utterly seething. His long black coat, lined with silver trim, billowed slightly from the sheer force of his arrival. His piercing gray eyes swept across the throne room like a predator scanning its prey.

The tension in the air shifted immediately.

Because this wasn't just a noble.

This was Duke Varian, one of the strongest Stage 4 Aura Knights in the kingdom.

A warrior whose very presence carried weight.

A man so powerful, he could cleave through solid steel with his bare hands.

And yet—

A man who had also, just yesterday, been knocked unconscious by a four-foot dragon.

The nobles remembered.

The guards remembered.

Varian sure as hell remembered.

The duke's jaw was tight, his fists clenched, his entire aura radiating a dangerous intensity as his gaze zeroed in on the very tiny dragon currently chewing on the king's robe.

Steve, oblivious to the terrifying presence now glaring daggers at him, squeaked happily and rolled onto his back.

The room was silent.

Varian's eye twitched.

Steve blinked up at him with wide, innocent eyes—

Then let out an excited chirp, flailed his little legs—

And launched himself at Varian's face.

The nobles gasped.

The guards instinctively took a step back.

The scribe started writing at light speed.

"The Young Dragon of the Court, fearless and mighty, delivers his challenge once more to the noble Duke Varian, proving once again that fate has chosen its champion."

Varian barely had time to react before Steve latched onto his torso.

The duke staggered slightly. Just slightly. Because unlike last time, he was ready.

With a controlled breath, he gripped Steve by the shoulders and held him at arm's length, glaring.

Steve blinked.

His tail wagged.

Varian's scowl deepened.

The entire court held its breath.

Then—

Steve let out a single, happy, victorious, "KREEEHHH!"

Varian's eye twitched violently.

The king, who had been watching all of this with great amusement, took a casual sip of wine. "Ah. It seems he likes you, Duke."

Varian slowly turned his head toward the king.

"...Your Majesty." His voice was tight with restraint. "Would you kindly remove—this—thing—from my person?"

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Steve wiggled in excitement.

The scribe continued writing.

"Despite the Duke's undeniable strength, the Young Dragon of the Court refuses to submit, proving that not even the mightiest of warriors can escape his righteous judgment."

Varian inhaled deeply, as if trying to suppress the murderous urge building inside him.

The king, looking far too entertained, leaned back. "Now, now. That 'thing' happens to be Darin's companion."

Varian's entire body stiffened at the name.

His gray eyes narrowed.

The tension in the room doubled.

Ah, yes.

Darin.

The reason this entire mess had started.

The so-called "Overlord", whom Varian had been tracking for months and sending mercenaries to hunt and ambush.

The man who, by sheer dumb luck, had accidentally ended up in the king's favor.

The same Darin who—because of this very dragon's actions, was now legally required to duel him tomorrow.

A vein pulsed in Varian's forehead.

His grip on Steve tightened slightly, but not enough to hurt.

The king hummed. "You do recall that your duel is tomorrow, don't you?"

Varian's expression darkened. "I haven't forgotten."

The scribe gasped in excitement.

"The Duke, resolute and unwavering, prepares for his fated battle against the Overlord. Tomorrow, history shall be written."

Varian turned, slowly, toward the scribe.

The scribe immediately pretended to be invisible.

Varian exhaled sharply, dropping Steve unceremoniously. The tiny dragon landed on the floor with a soft plop, flailed for a second—

Then immediately ran back to the king's feet like an excited puppy.

The scribe wrote that down too.

Varian straightened, smoothing his coat. "I came to inform Your Majesty that I will not hold back in tomorrow's duel."

The king arched an eyebrow. "I wouldn't expect you to."

Varian's expression hardened. "He is unworthy of this kingdom's favor. He is unworthy of standing in my way. And tomorrow, I will make certain of it."

The air shifted.

Even the nobles, who had long since accepted Darin as some kind of political disaster they were stuck with, felt the threat behind those words.

Varian wasn't just coming to win.

He was coming to break Darin.

The scribe's hands shook with excitement as he wrote.

"The Duke, a warrior without equal, makes his declaration. His battle shall be merciless."

The king smirked. "I suppose we shall see."

Varian gave a short, formal bow. Then, without another word, he turned, his coat flaring dramatically, and stormed out.

The doors slammed shut behind him.

Silence.

Then—

Grumble, still lounging in the king's lap, stretched luxuriously and flicked his tail.

The king sighed, scratching him behind the ears. "Well, that was fun."

Steve, oblivious to the war declaration that had just taken place, curled up at the king's feet and let out a happy little chirp.

The scribe, nearly trembling with excitement, whispered, "Tomorrow's entry is going to be legendary."

And across the palace—

Darin had no idea that he had just been declared an official public enemy.

Tomorrow was going to be a very bad day.