I Was Mistaken for the Reincarnated Evil Overlord-Chapter 23: Into The Underworld

Vincent clapped Darin on the back. "Cheer up, Overlord. That was probably the least illegal thing we'll do today."

"Weren't you dispatched by the king? Why don't you simply leverage your political influence and escort us to him immediately to sidestep all this trouble?"

Vincent chuckled, shaking his head. "Oh, if only it were that easy. The king is swamped with matters far more pressing than your current predicament. Besides, he has an eye for theatrics—something about a grand entrance."

Darin sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Great. Just what I need. A king who enjoys dramatics."

"Consider it part of the charm of royalty," Vincent said, grinning.

The sorceress glanced over her shoulder, her expression unreadable. "Charming or not, we should be cautious. The capital isn't just a place of power; it's also filled with those who'd see you fail."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Darin muttered as they moved deeper into the tunnel. He could feel the damp air clinging to his skin, and every echo of their footsteps seemed to amplify his anxiety.

As they walked, shadows danced on the walls, twisting like memories just out of reach. Darin shook off the feeling, focusing on their immediate goal: escaping this underground maze and reaching the city above.

They turned a corner and found themselves in a wide chamber illuminated by flickering torches embedded in the stone walls. The ground was littered with remnants of old crates and abandoned supplies, giving off a faint scent of mold and damp wood.

"Looks like we've hit an old storage area," Vincent observed, scanning the room. "Might find something useful here."

Darin raised an eyebrow. "Useful how? We're not here to set up shop."

Vincent waved dismissively as he approached a rotting crate stacked against the wall. "You never know when you might need an extra weapon or some supplies." He pried open the lid with ease.

The contents revealed themselves to be old tools—rusty axes and chipped blades that had clearly seen better days. Darin wrinkled his nose at the sight. "This stuff looks like it belongs in a museum."

"Or it might just come in handy," Vincent replied as he rummaged through the crate.

Darin rolled his eyes but couldn't shake off a sense of unease that had settled in his gut since entering this tunnel system.

"Let's keep moving," the sorceress urged softly, her tone cutting through their banter like a knife.

They pressed on into another dark passageway when suddenly they heard voices up ahead—a mix of laughter and shouting that echoed ominously through the damp corridor.

"Uh-oh," Darin whispered. "Sounds like we're not alone."

Vincent nodded slowly as they paused at the edge of shadows, peering into what lay ahead...

Darin squinted into the darkness, straining to make out the figures just beyond the flickering torchlight. Shadows danced along the walls, and as he edged closer, he could hear the muffled tones of conversation.

"—couldn't believe he actually thought he'd make it out alive," one voice sneered.

"Yeah, right? The guy's a joke," another chimed in, laughter spilling from his lips.

Darin felt his stomach twist. "Are those—?"

Vincent nodded grimly. "Mercenaries. Sounds like they're waiting for something, or someone."

The sorceress stepped forward, her expression serious. "We need to be careful. If they're expecting someone, it could be a trap."

Darin leaned in closer, careful not to make a sound. A group of about eight men gathered around a small fire, their armor reflecting the glow in glints of steel. They were armed with swords and daggers, their eyes sharp and alert.

"Do you think he'll actually show?" one of them asked, throwing a twig into the flames.

"Of course! He wouldn't dare miss this," another replied with a wicked grin. "The king's nobles will want him present for the execution."

Darin's heart sank further. "Execution? Who are they talking about?"

The sorceress shot him a glance that screamed urgency. "We can't stay here."

"Right." Darin nodded quickly, ready to back away when Vincent suddenly moved forward.

"What if we confront them?" Vincent suggested quietly, but his eyes gleamed with mischief.

"Are you out of your mind?" Darin hissed under his breath. "They've got numbers on us!"

"They also have no idea who we are," Vincent countered with an infuriatingly calm demeanor.

Darin opened his mouth to argue but was cut off by the sorceress's steely gaze locking onto him. She leaned closer, her voice barely above a whisper. "If we take them by surprise—"

Before she could finish her thought, one of the mercenaries turned sharply toward them as if sensing their presence in the shadows.

"There's someone there!" he shouted suddenly.

Darin felt his heart drop into his stomach as all heads turned toward their direction, weapons drawn and eyes narrowing with suspicion.

"Get ready," Vincent said softly as he readied himself for confrontation.

And just like that—the tension exploded into chaos.

Darin's heart raced as the mercenaries surged toward them, weapons glinting ominously in the flickering light. He quickly glanced at Vincent and the sorceress, both of whom had taken defensive stances.

"Now!" Vincent shouted, charging forward without hesitation.

Darin barely had time to process what was happening before the mercenaries drew their swords, their faces set with determination. The first one lunged at Vincent, who sidestepped with impressive agility, delivering a swift kick that sent the mercenary sprawling into the dirt.

Darin hesitated. Part of him wanted to run. The other part—fueled by adrenaline, felt compelled to join the fray. He could do this. He had to do this.

"Steve!" he called out as he grabbed a rusted dagger from one of the fallen crates, feeling its weight in his hand. "Get ready!"

The tiny dragon chirped and launched himself into the air, flames licking at his snout as he circled above like a feathered hawk searching for prey.

A second mercenary rushed toward Darin, sword raised high. "You think you can just sneak past us?"

Darin's instincts kicked in. He ducked low just as the blade swiped over his head and rolled to the side, scrambling back to his feet. With all his strength, he thrust the dagger forward—

It found purchase against leather armor but barely nicked skin beneath.

The mercenary staggered back, eyes wide in shock. Darin seized the moment and lunged again but miscalculated, he tripped over an uneven stone and went sprawling on the ground once more.

Unintentionally knocking over a torch, he watched in horror as it tumbled to the ground, igniting the dry fabric of two men nearby, their startled yells piercing the air as flames licked hungrily at their clothing.

Darin watched in horror as the flames ignited, catching the mercenaries off guard. The two men let out startled yells, swatting at their clothes as the fire spread quickly. Panic erupted around them.

"Put it out!" one of them screamed, thrashing wildly.

"Get water!" another shouted, eyes wide with fear.

Darin scrambled to his feet, adrenaline surging through him. "I didn't mean to—"

Before he could finish, a third mercenary charged at him, sword raised high. Darin ducked just in time to avoid the blow and bolted toward the shadows at the edge of the clearing.

Vincent was engaged with another fighter, sword clashing against steel in rapid succession. The sorceress unleashed a bolt of magic that crackled through the air and slammed into one of the fleeing mercenaries, sending him sprawling onto the ground.

"Darin!" Vincent shouted amid the chaos. "Focus! We can't let them regroup!"

Darin's heart raced as he glanced back at Steve, who was still hovering above them, flames licking at his snout but seemingly hesitant to act amid all the confusion.

"I'm trying!" Darin yelled back. "But I'm not exactly a fighter!"

The mercenary pursuing him stumbled over a crate, momentarily thrown off balance. Seizing his chance, Darin grabbed an abandoned crossbow from nearby and aimed it awkwardly.

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"This is not going to end well," he muttered under his breath as he pulled back on the string.

He fired the bolt instinctively, only for it to fly wide, whistling past the mercenary and embedding into a wooden scaffold. The impact dislodged a section of the structure, which toppled over and struck another mercenary with lethal force, ending his life instantly.

The sound of the collapsing scaffold reverberated through the tunnel, followed by the gruff thuds of mercenaries falling as the structure came crashing down. The remaining fighters, thrown into disarray by the sudden turn of events, backed away from Darin cautiously, their expressions a mix of fear and confusion.

Violence and fear, not a thought Darin signed up for, yet somehow landed in his lap.

He lowered the crossbow, his arm shaking slightly as he stared at the scene before him. Three mercenaries lay motionless on the ground, two engulfed by flames, one beneath the broken wreckage.

"Is it... over?" he whispered, his voice almost lost in the surrounding chaos.

The sorceress, her face a mask of carefully controlled fury, strode forward, her gaze sweeping over the fallen fighters. "Not yet. We need to move."

Vincent, his blade still dripping with blood, returned to Darin's side, giving him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Good work, friend. You certainly unleashed some unconventional talent."

Darin merely bobbed his head, still stunned by what had transpired. It felt unreal, this level of savagery. He'd never witnessed combat so merciless, especially after the previous encounter that had concluded peacefully.

"The undercity is not a safe place for us," the sorceress said, her voice sharp. "It's a breeding ground for violence and secrets. We need to find a secure hiding place until we reach the king."

She cast a wary glance around the smoldering chamber.

"We need to disappear, before they realize who really caused this."

Vincent gestured toward a narrow passageway that led deeper into the labyrinthine tunnels. "This way."

Darin followed reluctantly, still feeling the cold weight of the crossbow in his hand. The darkness seemed to press in on him, clinging to him like a shroud.

"I...didn't exactly aim for all that," Darin mumbled, awkwardly shifting the crossbow.

"Well, aim for subtlety next time," Vincent chuckled, clapping Darin on the shoulder.

"Easy for you to say, you've probably killed hundreds of goblins before breakfast," Darin grumbled, casting a nervous glance at the flickering flames.

"Goblin slaying is not exactly a daily ritual, Darin," Vincent countered, raising an eyebrow.

"Right, right, obviously," Darin stammered, kicking at a loose stone. "Just saying, I'm not exactly a...assassin."

"A blacksmith, perhaps. A reluctant hero, maybe," Vincent mused.

Darin snorted. "Hero? I tripped, fell, accidentally set a dude on fire. Steve nearly roasted a bucket of nails earlier, and somehow that's heroism?"

"Chaos followed by accidental victories? Sounds heroic to me!" Vincent grinned.

Darin sighed. "I don't understand any of this. Prophecy, reincarnated dark lord, mercenaries..."

"Ah, but Darin, darling, isn't it all terribly exciting?" The sorceress's voice, laced with amusement, cut through Darin's rambling.

Darin jumped, startled. Had she been quiet the whole time?

"Exciting? and why the change of heart?" Darin countered, the dream flashing back to him.

The sorceress's playful lilt belied the steely glint in her golden eyes. "Let's just say I find your capacity for disaster rather endearing" she purred, her gaze lingering on him for a moment that felt longer than it should.

"Endearing?" Darin squawked, incredulous. "I just caused a handful of deaths, half of which were entirely accidental!"

Vincent chuckled. "Come now, Darin, sometimes chaos reveals opportunities."

"Oh, is that right?" Darin shot Vincent a sarcastic look. "I feel like the opportunity I've been presented with is a whole new level of trouble. More trouble than I bargained for, let me tell you."

The sorceress tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing just slightly as if considering his words. "Perhaps, but trouble often leads to growth, wouldn't you agree?"

Darin chewed on his lip, suddenly feeling very small and out of his depth. "Growth? I'd settle for just surviving this mess."

Their steps echoed in the stillness, punctuated only by the steady drip of water from above and Steve's heavy gasps, his movements jerky and awkward, like a clumsy, overgrown puppy. Meanwhile, Gumby slumbered peacefully atop Darin's head.

The passage wound deeper into the undercity, the air growing thick with the scent of mildew and something faintly metallic. The flickering flames danced across the damp stone walls, casting long, distorted shadows that stretched and writhed like living things. Darin walked with his head down, keeping his gaze fixed on the uneven ground.

"You alright, Darin?" Vincent asked, his voice echoing softly in the confined space.

Darin shrugged, forcing a smile. "Yeah, just watching my step. Wouldn't want to trip and accidentally unleash another crossbow bolt spree."

Vincent laughed, the sound a reassuring rumble in the silence. "Though," he added with a sly grin, "it's clear you've got a knack for it."

Darin groaned. "I prefer to think of it as collateral damage."

"Collateral damage?" The sorceress's voice dripped with amusement. "Darin, you make it sound like a deliberate act."

"Well, it kinda was?" Darin muttered, kicking at a loose cobblestone. "I mean, I didn't exactly aim for..." He trailed off, realizing the futility of trying to explain his accidental massacre to the woman who seemed both fascinated and slightly horrified by his chaotic magic.

The passage opened into a small, circular chamber, its ceiling supported by intricately carved pillars that seemed to twist and turn like writhing serpents. A stale pool of water stagnated in the center, reflecting the flickering flames in a distorted dance.

"This will have to do for now," the sorceress said, her voice echoing in the chamber. "It's secluded, and should give us time to regroup and plan our next move."

Vincent nodded in agreement. "A roof over our heads is enough for tonight. We can figure out the rest in the morning."

Darin surveyed the chamber, his unease growing. The air felt oppressive, as though the walls themselves were closing in on him. He shivered, despite the summer heat.

"Well," he said, trying to lighten the mood, "at least it's not a smelly goblin cave."

"Don't speak too soon" the sorceress chuckled, her eyes glinting with mischief.

Steve landed on the ground with a soft thud, his blue flames sputtering briefly before settling into a steady, low burn. The smell of sulfur intensified, making Darin wrinkle his nose.

"A taco stand would be better," Darin complained, sidestepping Steve's affectionate gesture. "Seriously, Steve, you're a burden."