The Overlord’s Trials

Darin had dealt with many disasters in the past few weeks.

And somehow, none of that compared to what was happening now.

Because the sorceress—the terrifying woman with actual fire magic?

She was still here.

She had been following him all morning.

Silently.

Watching.

Waiting.

Darin did his absolute best to ignore her.

He went about his normal day—fixing tools, hammering metal, pretending he didn't have a growing cult of lunatics worshipping him.

But the constant presence of the sorceress was too much.

Finally, he turned, crossing his arms.

"So, let me get this straight. After last night, you're still convinced I'm some dark overlord?"

The sorceress, now casually leaning against the doorway, raised an eyebrow.

"You disappeared into the shadows after making a declaration of power."

Darin rubbed his temples. "I tripped on a chair!"

She didn't blink. "An intentional deception."

"Oh, for the love of—" Darin exhaled sharply. "Listen. What do I have to do to convince you that I am just a regular guy?"

She tilted her head slightly. "Nothing."

Darin blinked. "...Wait, what?"

"I will determine the truth myself," she said.

Darin's stomach dropped. "That sounds... bad."

"It is," she agreed.

Before Darin could argue, she straightened, eyes blazing with determination.

"Last night, I sought to destroy you."

Darin flinched. "Yes. That. I would like to avoid that happening again."

"But you did not fight back."

"Because I can't!"

She ignored him. "Instead, you defeated me without lifting a finger."

Darin opened his mouth.

Then closed it.

Then sighed deeply.

"No," he said, rubbing his face. "I didn't defeat you. I annoyed you until you left."

"You made me hesitate," she corrected. "That alone proves your power."

Darin groaned loudly. "IT PROVES THAT I TALK TOO MUCH!"

She ignored that too.

"The way you questioned my assumptions, the way you made me doubt… It was a true test of my conviction. And I failed."

Darin froze.

There it was.

The misunderstanding.

The reason she had stopped trying to kill him.

She thought last night was a lesson. A test.

And because she hesitated, because she lost control—she saw that as proof that she was unworthy.

And now?

Now, she believed she had to earn his favor.

Darin buried his face in his hands.

"Okay," he muttered. "Great. Wonderful. You failed some imaginary test. What does that mean for me?"

She clenched her fists. "It means I must become stronger. So that when the time comes, I will be worthy to serve you."

"…Excuse me?"

She met his eyes. "I will earn my place at your side."

Darin immediately turned toward Greta, who was sitting nearby, drinking tea.

"Greta," he said carefully. "Please tell me I hallucinated that."

Greta took a long sip. "No, dear, I heard it too."

Darin whirled back to the sorceress. "But you were literally trying to murder me yesterday!"

She nodded. "And I failed."

Darin threw his hands up. "Yes! Exactly! So why is your next logical step becoming my follower?!"

She stepped closer. "Because only the strong may stand beside you."

Darin took a step back. "Oh, no. No, no, no, we are not doing this."

She simply nodded to herself. "I will submit myself to your trials, my lord. If you find me lacking, you may discard me as you see fit."

Darin choked on air. "Discard?! I'm not taking applications!"

But it was too late.

She had already made up her mind.

And just like that, Darin's greatest enemy had somehow become his biggest problem.

"If I am to serve you," she said, "I must become stronger."

Darin did not like where this was going. "That's nice. Maybe try lifting weights or something—"

She raised a hand.

Flames surged to life.

Darin's survival instincts screamed.

"Defend yourself!" she declared.

Darin dodged.

Barely.

A blast of fire magic shot past his shoulder, exploding against the ground with a loud boom.

Darin let out a strangled yelp. "WHAT PART OF 'I AM NOT A DARK OVERLORD' SUGGESTS THAT I CAN TANK FIREBALLS?!"

The sorceress stalked toward him. "A true ruler does not beg. He commands."

Darin flung his arms out. "I AM COMMANDING YOU TO STOP THROWING FIRE AT ME!"

She paused.

For a moment, Darin felt hope.

Then she smirked. "Good. You are learning."

Darin's eye twitched violently.

This woman was completely insane.

By the time Darin escaped, word had already spread.

The Overlord had tested the sorceress.

She had failed.

Now, she was training to become worthy of his service.

And, of course, because the universe hated him, the rest of the villagers decided that they, too, must prove themselves.

By the end of the day, over thirty people had lined up outside his forge, demanding that he test them as well.

Darin stood at the entrance, watching as an old man, who looked like he could barely walk, stepped forward.

"Lord Darin," the man said solemnly. "I request your judgment."

Darin blinked. "I—what?"

"I shall prove myself." The old man clenched his fist. "I will survive your trial!"

Darin pinched the bridge of his nose. "There is no trial."

The man dropped to his knees. "Then I have already failed!"

Darin turned toward Greta.

"Greta," he said, "I need you to say something sane before I completely lose my mind."

Greta took a long sip. "You should charge an entrance fee, dear."

Darin groaned loudly.

The cult problem had reached its final stage, but not soo final.