I Was Mistaken for the Reincarnated Evil Overlord-Chapter 42: The Overlord’s Reign (And Varian’s Nightmare)
The battle should have been over.
Varian was a Stage 4 Aura Knight.
A walking disaster of power, precision, and sheer unbreakable will.
And yet—
He was losing.
No, he wasn’t just losing.
He was being toyed with.
The Overlord dodged everything.
Effortlessly.
Like Varian’s attacks were nothing more than an inconvenience.
Varian roared, swinging his greatsword with all his might—
The Overlord tilted his head, amused.
And then, he caught the blade.
With his bare hand.
CRACK.
The ground beneath them shattered from the sheer force of the impact.
But the Overlord didn’t even budge.
His fingers tightened around the blade.
The steel whined in protest.
Varian’s eyes widened.
"W-What—"
The Overlord yanked the sword forward, and kneed Varian directly in the ribs.
CRACK.
Varian flew backward, smashing into the stone walls of the arena like a ragdoll.
Blood spattered onto the ground.
The audience gasped.
The Overlord rolled his shoulders, flexing his fingers.
"This body is weaker than I remember, but…" He grinned. "It’ll do."
Varian, coughing up red, pulled himself from the rubble.
His armor was cracked.
His breathing was uneven.
But his eyes burned with fury.
"You’re—" He coughed, wiping blood from his chin. "Not Darin."
The Overlord chuckled.
"Oh, he’s still in here."
He tapped his own temple.
"He’s just… resting."
Darin, trapped deep in his own mind, screamed.
"PUT ME BACK YOU PSYCHOPATH!"
The Overlord smirked. "Shhh. The adults are talking."
Darin banged on the mental prison.
The Overlord ignored him.
Varian, still breathing heavily, gritted his teeth.
"You think this fight is over?" He growled.
The Overlord’s smile widened.
"No. But you do."
And then—
He moved.
Faster than humanly possible.
Varian barely saw the blur before—
CRACK.
A fist slammed into his jaw.
His head snapped back.
Another strike, to the ribs.
Another, to the gut.
Each hit was merciless.
Each strike was calculated.
It was like being mauled by a shadow.
The Overlord’s laughter echoed.
"I thought you were strong."
Varian swung wildly.
The Overlord vanished.
Reappeared behind him.
"Pathetic."
BOOM.
A single kick sent Varian skidding across the battlefield.
Blood streaked behind him.
Varian, gasping, pushed himself up.
His hands shook.
His vision blurred.
But he refused to fall.
The Overlord sighed dramatically.
"Come now, little Duke." He stretched lazily. "Is that all?"
Varian growled.
He was an Aura Knight.
A warrior.
He would not lose like this.
His aura exploded, stone cracking beneath him as he surged forward.
His sword became a blur.
Slashes aimed to kill.
Each swing stronger.
Faster.
Sharper.
But—
The Overlord didn’t dodge.
He walked forward.
Straight into the onslaught.
The sword cut into him.
Once.
Twice.
Again.
And the Overlord laughed.
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Blood dripped down his arms.
His chest.
His cheek.
But his smile never wavered.
Varian’s strikes became desperate.
A slash aimed for the neck—
Caught.
The Overlord’s hand wrapped around the blade.
Blood trickled from his palm.
He barely noticed.
Varian froze.
The Overlord tilted his head.
"That’s enough."
And then—
He snapped the sword in half.
Varian’s breath hitched.
The Overlord stepped forward, pressing a bloody hand against Varian’s chest.
And then—
BOOM.
A single blast of dark energy sent Varian flying.
The duke hit the ground hard.
His armor was shattered.
His body was battered.
His vision swam.
The Overlord stepped over him.
Casually.
Like a king standing over his fallen prey.
Varian, barely able to move, gasped out—
"What… are you?"
The Overlord smirked.
He knelt down.
Brushed blood from his cheek.
And whispered,
"I am what comes after strength."
Varian’s body refused to move.
The Overlord sighed.
Varian lay on the ground, gasping for breath, his entire body broken. His limbs refused to move, his aura flickered weakly around him, and his mind screamed at him to stand, to fight, to do anything.
But there was nothing left.
And above him, standing over his fallen form, the Overlord grinned.
Darin’s body—no, not Darin anymore, was battered, bloodied, and covered in wounds that should have slowed him down. But the Overlord didn’t care. His glowing eyes burned with amusement, his lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smirk, but rather a satisfied sneer.
He crouched down, resting an elbow on his knee as he examined the man before him.
Varian gritted his teeth. His fingers twitched against the dirt. He wanted to lift his sword, wanted to force his body up and keep fighting.
But he couldn’t.
He was defeated.
He knew it.
And so did the Overlord.
"What a waste," the Overlord mused, tilting his head. "All that power. All that potential. And yet, here you are, lying in the dirt like a dying dog."
Varian’s breathing was ragged, but his glare was fierce. He refused to look away.
The Overlord’s grin widened. "Oh? Still got some fight in you?"
He reached forward, and grabbed Varian by the throat.
Varian choked, his hands weakly gripping at the Overlord’s wrist, but there was no real struggle left. The Overlord lifted him slightly, enough to make Varian feel small.
"You," the Overlord continued, voice dark and rich with amusement, "are wasted on this kingdom."
Varian clenched his jaw, refusing to give the monster in front of him the satisfaction of a response.
The Overlord hummed. "You could have been so much more. With proper training, proper guidance… you could have been standing beside me as my slave."
Varian froze.
The Overlord leaned in. His voice was silk and steel. "But don’t worry. From now on—you’re one of my slave."
Varian’s breath caught.
The audience collectively gasped.
The Overlord continued, his voice smooth and certain, as if he had just decided the fate of the world itself. "Your strength is wasted under this kingdom’s rule. That king? That title? Meaningless. You are nothing here."
Varian trembled, his body betraying him with exhaustion, but his mind was still sharp.
"And you think I’ll just submit?" he rasped, barely able to get the words out.
The Overlord’s grin turned sharper. "Not today. But you will."
Varian hated how certain he sounded.
The Overlord finally released him, letting his body drop to the ground like discarded trash. Varian barely had the strength to roll onto his side.
The Overlord straightened, stretching lazily. "But I’ll give you credit where it’s due, puppy. You didn’t roll over as easily as I expected."
Varian felt something inside him snap.
He had never felt so humiliated.
"You…" he growled, barely able to lift his head.
The Overlord raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Still got something to say?"
Varian forced himself to look up at the man, no, the thing, that had just claimed him.
He had always believed in strength. He had spent his entire life climbing, training, fighting to be the strongest.
And yet, in the end—
It hadn’t been enough.
The Overlord saw the moment acceptance flickered through his eyes.
And he smiled.
"Good boy."
Varian hated him.
The Overlord turned slightly, rolling his neck. "Well, that was fun. But I think I’ve had enough for now."
His glowing eyes dimmed slightly.
He exhaled deeply, and then smirked.
"Time to sleep."
And with that—
He let go.
Darin woke up.
And immediately collapsed.
His entire body screamed in agony, muscles locking up, pain crashing down on him all at once. He barely managed to catch himself on his hands and knees before his arms gave out.
The roar of the crowd, the screaming, the gasping, the absolute chaos, all crashed into him at once.
His ears rang. His vision blurred. He could still feel the Overlord’s influence fading, like lingering fire in his veins.
And then—
Silence.
For a long, horrible second, Darin just breathed.
And then—pain.
So much pain.
His limbs were shaking. His mouth tasted like blood. His ribs ached from the strain of pushing a body far beyond its limits.
He felt sick.
Like he had just been used.
Like his body wasn’t his anymore.
He squeezed his eyes shut, forcing his breathing to slow. Focus. Focus.
He wasn’t dead. That was something.
But—
"VARIAN!!"
Darin’s head snapped up.
A group of Varian’s personal knights had rushed onto the battlefield.
The duke was still on the ground, barely conscious, but breathing.
Barely.
Darin swallowed.
Oh gods.
Oh gods.
What had he done?
The Overlord chuckled in his mind, weak, fading, but still there.
"That, Darin, was power."
Darin’s stomach turned.
He had just lost control completely.
And worst of all—
He had liked it.
The way the Overlord moved. The sheer confidence, the absolute authority, the undeniable presence.
It had been…
Exhilarating.
Darin clenched his fists.
He felt sick.
He barely noticed the king standing.
"Enough!" The king’s voice boomed across the arena. "This duel is over!"
The audience exploded into noise.
Shouting. Yelling. Arguing.
Darin barely heard any of it.
Varian’s knights lifted him, carrying him toward the medics.
Darin’s arms trembled as he tried to push himself up.
Someone caught him.
Warm hands. Steady.
"Darin."
Darin flinched.
That voice.
The sorceress.
His head snapped to the side.
She was kneeling beside him, eyes wide with concern.
And, something else.
Darin’s breath hitched.
She had witnessed everything.
She knew.
He wanted to say something. Anything.
But his mouth wouldn’t move.
Her grip tightened slightly on his arm. "What happened to you?"
Darin froze.
For a long moment, he couldn’t answer.
And then, finally—
He whispered:
"I don’t know."
The sorceress exhaled, glancing toward where Varian was being carried away.
"You weren’t yourself."
Darin swallowed.
"Yeah."
The sorceress studied him, her expression unreadable. Then, softly—
"You were worse."
Darin’s throat went dry.
He couldn’t look at her.
Couldn’t face her.
The Overlord yawned in his head.
"That was exhausting. I’m going to sleep now."
Darin clenched his jaw.
"You better pray I never wake up again."
The Overlord laughed.
"Oh, Darin. We both know that’s a lie."
And then, silence.
