The Overlord’s First Construction Project

Darin stood outside his forge, arms crossed, watching what could only be described as architectural suicide.

The entire village was hard at work, stacking haphazard piles of timber, stone, and—was that an old wagon wheel?

At the center of it all was the overly enthusiastic stranger, who had somehow positioned himself as the chief architect of madness.

Meanwhile, the so-called "sacred beast" sat comfortably on Darin's shoulder, happily gnawing on his cloak.

Darin sighed. "Greta, please tell me they're not actually trying to build a castle."

Greta, sipping her tea, didn't even look up. "Oh no, dear. They're aiming for a shrine."

She paused for effect. "But at this rate, it might accidentally become a large bonfire."

Darin winced as a villager dropped a heavy stone block, narrowly missing his own foot.

"This is going to end badly."

Greta took another sip. "Of course it is."

Darin turned toward her. "Whose morale is this helping? Because mine's in the gutter."

Before she could respond—

CRASH.

A wooden scaffold collapsed like a house of cards, sending several villagers tumbling into a pile.

Darin pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Oh, for the love of—"

Greta sipped her tea. "You are the overlord, dear. Perhaps you should… oversee things."

Darin shot her a glare. "I am NOT an overlord. I'm a BLACKSMITH. And even if I WERE, I don't know the first thing about BUILDING SHRINES."

"Yet they look to you for leadership."

Darin flinched.

The sorceress had appeared out of nowhere, standing beside him like a shadow with an attitude problem.

Darin groaned. "Could you at least make some footstep noises before showing up?"

She ignored him. "Your followers need guidance."

"They're not my followers," Darin argued. "They're just… stubborn."

She tilted her head. "And yet, they listen to you."

Darin opened his mouth to argue—

CRASH.

A wooden beam slipped free, smashing into an abandoned cart and splintering it into pieces.

The villagers cheered.

Darin's eye twitched violently.

"Alright. Fine. I'll… I'll go over there and do something."

Darin trudged toward the chaos, Steve clinging to his shoulder.

As he arrived, the stranger leading the construction turned, beaming.

"Lord Darin!" he exclaimed, dropping to his knees. "We are honored by your presence!"

Darin immediately waved his hands. "No, no, stop kneeling! PLEASE don't kneel."

Too late.

The entire group dropped to their knees.

Darin sighed heavily. "Okay. Look, I'm not here to bless your work. I'm here because you're about to crush yourselves to death."

The stranger's eyes lit up.

"Ah! You see our weakness and seek to refine it. A true leader corrects his people."

Darin exhaled sharply. "No. I just don't want to watch a mass funeral."

The stranger proudly held up a tattered parchment.

"Behold! The sacred blueprint for your shrine!"

Darin leaned in.

Then immediately regretted it.

The "blueprint" was a child's drawing—a lopsided castle, stick figures, and a crudely sketched dragon with what looked like… a mustache?

Darin blinked.

Then looked up at the sky, as if asking the gods why they hated him.

"That's not a blueprint. That's… a disaster waiting to happen."

The stranger faltered. "But… we thought—"

Darin snatched the parchment.

"Look. If you're building something, you need real plans. You need measurements. You need basic structural integrity. Not… this."

He waved it in the air.

A gust of wind snatched it from his fingers.

The parchment fluttered gracefully through the air—

And landed on a precariously balanced beam.

For a moment, everything was still.

Then—

CREEEEEEAK.

Darin's stomach dropped.

The beam shifted.

And the entire structure collapsed.

Villagers scattered, dodging falling beams and stones.

Darin lunged forward and yanked the nearest villager out of the way, just as a stone block crashed into the ground.

Silence.

The villagers stared at the ruins.

Then they slowly turned to Darin.

Someone whispered, "He moved faster than the wind."

Another murmured, "His foresight is terrifying."

A woman clutched her chest. "I thought I was dead. But he… just reached out and pulled life back into me."

Darin, still holding the rescued villager, sighed. "I just pulled him out of the way. That's it."

A nearby villager shook his head. "No… you knew. You saw what was coming before it happened."

The stranger stepped forward, awe in his eyes.

"The Overlord watches over us. Even when we fail, he does not abandon us."

Darin buried his face in his hands.

"I hate this."

The sorceress studied him carefully.

"You see, my lord?" she murmured. "Even when you refuse, they still believe."

Darin glared. "I was preventing a disaster. That's not leadership; it's common sense."

She tilted her head. "Perhaps. But common sense rarely inspires loyalty."

Darin opened his mouth—

Steve chirped and nuzzled his cheek.

The villagers gasped in delight.

A villager clutched his chest. "The beast has chosen him as its eternal companion."

Another wiped away a tear. "A bond beyond magic."

Darin closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"…I need a break."

No break came.

The villagers immediately began discussing rebuilding.

This time, they wanted Darin's "divine guidance."

Darin stared blankly at the chaos.

Greta, who had been quietly enjoying the show, patted his arm.

"Well, dear, it looks like you're in charge now."

He stared blankly at the collapsing shrine, then at the villagers, who were gathering expectantly around him.

"This is unbelievable," he muttered.

He wasn't an overlord. He wasn't even a leader. He was just a guy who wanted a normal life—and somehow, he was now in charge of a group of lunatics trying to build a shrine to his pet lizard.

Over the next few hours, Darin reluctantly directed the construction.

He didn't know much about large buildings, but his blacksmithing experience at least gave him a grasp of stability.

"Alright," he said, pointing to a pile of stones. "Those need to be the foundation. If you stack them randomly, this whole thing will crumble in a week."

The villagers nodded eagerly and got to work.

He turned to a group struggling with wooden beams. "You need to secure those properly or the roof's going to come down on your heads."

A nearby villager squinted at him. "Wait, wait—are you saying… roofs need support?"

Darin rubbed his temples. "Yes."

Another villager whispered in amazement. "He speaks with such certainty… as if he sees the future."

Darin exhaled sharply. "It's called basic engineering."

The stranger leading the project whispered to another villager.

"He commands the very bones of the earth."

The other villager nodded solemnly. "The Overlord speaks, and the world obeys."

Darin glared at them. "I'm literally just trying to stop you from killing yourselves."

But nobody was listening.

To make matters worse, Steve had decided the construction site was his personal playground.

The tiny dragon scampered around, knocking over tools, chewing on ropes, and occasionally sneezing tiny bursts of fire.

"Steve, no!" Darin shouted as the dragon toppled a bucket of nails.

A villager pointed excitedly. "Look! He tests our ability to work under pressure!"

"That is not what he's doing!" Darin snapped.

Steve flapped up onto a pile of stacked wood and began batting at a loose beam with his tail.

Darin's stomach dropped.

"Steve, I am begging you. Do not—"

THUMP.

The beam wobbled, then crashed down, sending planks and dust flying.

Steve let out a triumphant chirp.

The villagers did not panic.

Instead, one of them wiped away a tear. "The Overlord's beast humbles our work, so we may build it stronger."

Darin grabbed Steve off the wreckage.

"You," he muttered, "are the actual worst."

The dragon yawned and snuggled into his arm.

By the end of the day, the shrine was less grand than intended—but at least it wasn't on the verge of collapse.

Darin stepped back, wiping sweat from his brow.

"Well," he muttered. "It's not a complete disaster."

The villagers erupted into cheers.

"The Overlord's vision is complete!"

Darin groaned.

"I didn't design this. I just stopped it from falling."

The stranger turned to the crowd, arms wide. "His wisdom is boundless. He accepts no credit for his brilliance!"

Darin dragged a hand down his face. "This is why I don't talk to you people."

Just as he was about to escape, the sorceress approached.

Her golden eyes studied him intently.

"My lord," she said, "your leadership today was… unexpected."

Darin raised an eyebrow. "Unexpected? I was just stopping them from getting crushed."

She nodded. "Yes. You took control effortlessly."

Darin narrowed his eyes. "That wasn't leadership. That was basic survival instincts."

She tilted her head slightly. "Survival and leadership often go hand in hand."

Darin groaned. "I appreciate the compliment, but I'm not—"

She cut him off.

"It's time you learned your true power."

Darin blinked. "My what?"

"Your magic," she said. "As the overlord, you must wield dark sorcery. I will teach you."

Darin stared. "I don't have magic. I'm a blacksmith."

She gave him a knowing look. "You say that, but I've seen the signs. The healing. The fireball you blocked. The dragon's bond."

Darin hesitated.

He still couldn't explain those incidents.

But magic?

No way.

"...Fine," he muttered. "But if I set myself on fire, it's your fault."

Her smile widened. "Deal."

As the sun set, Darin stood in a clearing outside the forge, the sorceress beside him.

"Focus your mind," she instructed. "Clear it of distractions."

Darin closed his eyes.

All he could think about was how absolutely ridiculous this was.

He was learning magic from a woman who tried to kill him, while his pet lizard chewed on his boot.

"Focus."

Darin sighed. "Fine."

He took a deep breath.

A faint tingling spread through his fingertips.

Then—

A small, dark flame flickered to life in his palm.

Darin's eyes snapped open.

"What the—"

The flame sputtered out.

The sorceress smiled. "There. It's within you."

Before Darin could process that horrifying fact—

CRASH.

Darin whipped around.

The newly built shrine was on fire.

Villagers screamed.

Darin's stomach dropped. "Oh, no."

Steve had somehow flown to the top of the shrine—and knocked over a torch.

The tiny dragon puffed out his chest proudly.

Darin sprinted toward the chaos. "STEVE, GET DOWN!"

The villagers did not panic.

Instead, one of them nodded. "The beast purges weakness from the structure."

Darin stared in horror.

"NO. YOU NEED TO PUT OUT THE FIRE!"

A villager adjusted his cloak. "Perhaps we must let it burn... to understand its flaws."

Darin turned to the sorceress. "Fix it."

With a sigh, she snapped her fingers, summoning a gust of wind to smother the flames.

The villagers burst into applause.

"A perfect display of control! The Overlord and his sorceress—truly an unstoppable force!"

Darin groaned. "Great. Now they think we're a team."

The sorceress smirked. "Is that so bad?"

Darin buried his face in his hands.

This day was never going to end.