I Was Mistaken for the Reincarnated Evil Overlord

Darin was having a fantastic dream, one of those rare, blissful moments where everything just made sense.

A grand feast stretched before him, piled high with delicacies from across the realm. No cultists chanting cryptic nonsense, no Vincent causing chaos, no nobles breathing down his neck. Just peace, authority, and complete control over his life.

And, of course, the stunning beauty seated gracefully on his lap.

She was breathtaking, her fingers idly tracing patterns against his chest. She let out a soft, sultry purr, leaning in closer.

"My lord, why do you look so pleased?"

Darin exhaled contentedly, taking in the sheer perfection of the moment. "I just have this feeling… like everything is finally in order."

The woman giggled, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "Oh? Mind if I give you a kiss?"

Darin grinned, tilting his head invitingly. "By all means…"

She leaned in.

Closer.

Her soft lips barely brushed his—

Peck.

…Huh?

Something was off.

The kiss felt… wet. Too wet.

And wait, why was it moving?

The warmth against his face spread, turning into something long, rough, and slimy dragging up his cheek.

Darin's dream world warped and cracked, reality slamming back into place like a cruel slap.

He jerked back, eyes flying open in panic—

Only to come face-to-face with something monstrous.

A hulking, shadowed figure loomed over him, inches away, its red eyes glowing with eerie amusement. Its grotesque tongue lolled out, dragging another long, disgustingly wet lick up his entire face.

Darin screamed.

The beauty in his arms morphed instantly, her soft laughter twisting into a deep, guttural cackle.

Her skin darkened, shifting from flawless to something ancient and cracked, her form contorting grotesquely.

He looked down in horror.

His arms were no longer wrapped around a woman—

But around the Overlord.

Grinning.

Licking him.

"WAKE UP, DARIN!"

Darin shot upright with a strangled yell, his hands grappling blindly at the nightmare, only to slap fur and scales instead.

His blurry vision focused just in time for another long, disgustingly damp lick to drag from his chin to his forehead.

He froze.

Two too-close, glowing reptilian eyes blinked at him.

Steve.

Steve huffed happily, his tail wagging like an overgrown puppy, and lunged in for another enthusiastic lick.

"AGH—STEVE, NO!"

Darin thrashed backward, flailing wildly to escape. His heart thundered in his chest, his brain still half-trapped in the nightmare, and his entire face was now soaked in dragon slobber.

Somewhere in the distance, Vincent's uncontrollable laughter rang out.

Darin collapsed back onto his bedroll, groaning.

Worst. Wake-up. Ever.

Darin wiped his face furiously, groaning as he sat up. His heart was still racing, his skin crawling from the awful sensation of both dream-Overlord's kiss and Steve's real-life dragon slobber.

Then—

Laughter.

Not Vincent's this time.

But the deep, rumbling voice inside his own head.

The Overlord.

"What's wrong, Darin?" the Overlord's silky, amused voice echoed in his mind.

"I noticed your heartbeat spiked to dangerous levels. If I didn't know better, I'd say you nearly gave yourself a heart attack."

Darin ran a hand down his face. "I—" He hesitated.

There was no way he could say it.

Absolutely no way.

But the Overlord was persistent. "Go on. Tell me. What horror did you witness?"

Darin exhaled, humiliating reality crashing over him. "...I had a dream."

"Oh?" The Overlord sounded intrigued. "A nightmare?"

"...Yes."

"What kind?"

Darin clenched his jaw. "...You. Licking me."

Silence.

A long, dreadful silence.

Then—

"GAHHHHHHHH!"

The Overlord's horrified screech practically rattled Darin's skull.

"DISGUSTING!" the Overlord bellowed, "HOW DARE YOU? HOW DARE YOUR FILTHY MORTAL BRAIN FORCE SUCH AN IMAGE UPON ME?!"

Darin grimaced, rubbing his temples. "Trust me, I didn't want it either!"

"I—I THINK I NEED TO CLEANSE MY OWN SOUL!" The Overlord sounded genuinely distressed. "That is the foulest thing I have ever heard! I would sooner embrace my eternal destruction than partake in such an abomination!"

"I KNOW!" Darin snapped, still feeling violated. "YOU THINK I ENJOYED IT?!"

The Overlord shuddered audibly. "This is your fault, Darin. Your weak, pathetic human brain conjured such a vile illusion. If anything, I am the victim here."

Darin stumbled back, still wiping dragon slobber off his face, as the Overlord continued his dramatic wailing in his mind.

"I feel unclean," the Overlord lamented. "Centuries of war, bloodshed, and conquest, and nothing—NOTHING—has ever disgusted me as much as this moment."

Darin rubbed his temples. "Trust me, I'd rather go back to getting thrown around in a fight than relive that."

"Do you have any idea what you've done?" the Overlord hissed. "You have tainted my essence with your depraved subconscious."

Darin scowled. "Oh, my apologies, your Exalted Darkness. It must be so hard for you to suffer through my suffering."

"IT IS!" the Overlord roared. "I should be leading armies, striking terror into the hearts of men! Not trapped in the mind of a fool who dreams of me licking his face!"

Darin threw his hands up. "I DIDN'T CHOOSE IT! It just—happened!"

"Oh, so now I'm just invading your dreams?" the Overlord sneered. "First, you make me lick you, and now you're blaming me? I am a warlord, Darin. I do not 'purr' in people's laps and whisper sweet nothings into their ears!"

Darin cringed. Why did he have to say it like that? "Yeah, well, neither do I! At least, not with—YOU!"

"Well, clearly, your subconscious says otherwise."

Darin shuddered. "I hate this. I hate everything about this."

"Not as much as I do—"

Darin cut him off. "Can we please never speak of this again?"

"Oh, we will speak of it, Darin," the Overlord hissed, "until my suffering is avenged."

"You suffered?!" Darin threw up his hands. "I'm the one who had to live through it!"

"You're the one who dreamed it up!"

"I DIDN'T CHOOSE IT!"

The Overlord snarled, "If I could remove my essence from this vessel out of sheer disgust, I would do so immediately!"

"Fine! Then do it!"

"Don't tempt me!"

"GOOD! LEAVE!"

"I WILL!"

"DO IT, COWARD!"

"GAH!"

Darin buried his face in his hands. "Oh, shut up!"

Steve tilted his head innocently, tail flicking as if nothing was wrong with slobbering all over someone's face first thing in the morning.

PHEWW….

Calm down me, calm down.

Darin looked down, glaring at the dragon. "You were shaking in fear the entire time we were in this stupid forest. What's with the change of attitude?"

Steve snorted and flopped onto his side, stretching out like he owned the tent. His wings flexed lazily before tucking back against his body.

Darin narrowed his eyes. "Don't act all confident now. I saw you hiding behind wagons whenever something moved in the trees. What changed?"

Steve let out a deep, content rumble and gave him an unimpressed look.

Darin sighed, rubbing his temples. "Of course. No answer. You're a dragon, not a dog, Steve. Stop licking people."

Steve responded by flicking his tail at Darin's face, knocking him backward onto his bedroll.

"Alright, you little bastard, I get it!" Darin grumbled, sitting up again.

With a dramatic sigh, he forced himself to fully wake up. The camp outside was already alive with movement—people breaking down tents, checking supplies, and making preparations for the day's journey. The mercenaries were sharpening their weapons, the retired soldiers were double-checking their armor, and the cultists… well, they were doing whatever cultists did. Probably praying to the 'Overlord' a.k.a darin, and waiting for a divine sign that was never coming.

Darin stretched with a grunt and shook off the last bits of sleep. "Alright, fine. Let's get this day started."

Steve, pleased with himself, flicked his tail again and padded out of the tent, leaving Darin to wonder just how much more annoying today was going to be.

And judging by his luck?

A lot.

Darin stepped out of his tent, still wiping dragon slobber off his face.

Then Grumble appeared.

The tiny shadowy creature waddled into camp with something clamped between his jaws—a dead monster.

And not just any monster. A big one.

It was at least four times Grumble's size, with too many legs and too few eyes. Some kind of predatory beast native to the Reaper Forest. Its body was covered in jagged black fur, and its fangs were still bared in a snarl. It looked like it had been violently torn apart, and considering how tiny Grumble was, Darin had no idea how he managed to drag it all the way here.

The entire camp paused.

A few of the mercenaries stopped what they were doing, staring at the bizarre sight. Even some of the seasoned veterans looked vaguely impressed.

Grumble, completely unfazed, dropped the corpse at Darin's feet.

Then sat down.

And started licking his paw like nothing happened.

Darin stared at him.

Vincent walked up, whistling low. "…Well, that's terrifying."

Alvin crouched down, poking the monster's body with the hilt of his sword. "How the hell did that tiny thing kill this?"

Darin sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You know what? I'm not even questioning it anymore." He gestured to the corpse. "Someone harvest what we can from this thing and toss the rest. We need to move."

The company got to work immediately.

The monster's body was quickly stripped for useful materials—fur, fangs, claws, and anything that could be sold later. The rest was discarded into the trees, left for scavengers. Meanwhile, Darin turned to the gathered company and clapped his hands.

"Alright, everyone! Pack it up, we're moving!"

A chorus of groans answered him, but people obeyed.

Within minutes, the tents were coming down, the wagons were loaded, and the massive group was preparing to move out once more.

Darin glanced up at the sky, watching the dark canopy of the Reaper Forest shift in the early morning light.

They were getting closer.