The next day…

Darin woke up to the sound of something loud and ceremonial, drums? Chanting?

Nope.

It was the Elder Gallikarn's voice, booming across the camp like a war horn from the heavens.

"OH GREAT OVERLORD, MASTER OF NIGHT AND DOOM—"

Darin groaned and sat up, disoriented. He rubbed sleep from his eyes, rolled over—

—and fell directly onto Steve's tail.

The dragon grumbled.

"Sorry, sorry," Darin muttered. "I was hoping this was a dream but… nope."

He staggered upright, grabbed a coat, and stepped outside into a strangely bustling morning. The sky was pale gold. Birds chirped. The scent of cooking meat drifted across camp. All in all, it might've felt peaceful…

…if not for the fact that over fifty Gallikarn females were kneeling in the middle of the camp in ceremonial garb, their heads bowed reverently.

At the center stood the elder from the day before, his forehead bruised and scabbed from yesterday's groveling.

"Oh, for the love of—"

"My Lord!" the elder bellowed, arms raised toward Darin like he was summoning the sun. "You have shown us mercy in your infinite wisdom. As tradition demands—we offer you our tribe's finest maidens, as tribute! Pure of soul! Fierce of body! Trained in both war and pleasure!"

Darin blinked. Once. Twice.

"…What."

"THEY AWAIT YOUR SELECTION, OH DARK LORD," the elder continued, his voice full of solemn conviction. "Should you find none to your liking, we shall begin the next round of offerings—"

"I don't need a round system!" Darin shouted, hands flailing. "I'm not here to date an entire clan!"

As if summoned by this nonsense, Grumble casually padded out of Darin's tent, tail swishing. He blinked once at the line of kneeling maidens.

Then, with total indifference, the small shadow cat walked forward, pausing in front of a trembling woman with golden markings on her cheeks. She was trying very hard not to breathe.

Grumble leapt up—

—and curled into her lap, yawning.

She fainted immediately.

The crowd exploded into a frenzy of celebratory shouting.

"THE SHADOW BEAST HAS CHOSEN!"

"THE BRIDE OF DARKNESS IS ANOINTED!"

"LONG LIVE LADY GRUMBLE!"

Darin stared, mouth open. "What. Is. Happening."

Vincent wandered over with a mug of something steaming. "Morning, buddy. Looks like you're accidentally engaged again."

"Engaged to a cat's bride?!"

"Technically, she belongs to Grumble now," Vincent said helpfully. "You're just the Overlord who owns the cat."

Steve slithered up next to Darin, then turned and curled protectively in front of the maiden like a bouncer.

Darin rubbed his temples.

Alvin walked up, saw the scene, and without a word, turned around and walked right back out of camp.

Meanwhile… in the sky above the ridge

A shadow swept low.

A single black crow flew high over the camp, wings wide and eyes like polished obsidian. It spiraled once, then dove straight down toward the central tents.

Alvin noticed it mid-stretch and froze.

"…That's Lilith's crow."

Vincent, still sipping his drink, looked up. "Huh?"

The crow didn't land gently—it smacked right into Vincent's face.

"GAAH!"

A scroll flopped into his lap as the crow fluttered off, looking smug.

Alvin strolled over and snatched the scroll open, reading aloud as Vincent massaged his nose.

[To Vincent and Alvin Ravenshire,

You two absolute degenerates.

I sent you north for diplomatic observation and royal oversight, not a two-month vacation where you gallivant around following an unstable demigod, battle ancient forest monsters, and hijack an army.

Do you have any idea what the nobles are saying?!

They're calling you "the Overlord's left and right hands." DO YOU KNOW HOW BAD THAT SOUNDS?!

Come home immediately. Or don't. Just remember who pays for your sword maintenance.

With love,

Your Father.]

Vincent burst out laughing halfway through. "Oh, man. He's livid."

Alvin muttered, "It's a miracle he hasn't sent assassins."

Steve let out a low huff and continued guarding the fainted Gallikarn bride like an ancient temple guardian.

Darin grabbed the scroll, read it twice, and sighed. "Well, at least he didn't demand I come visit."

"Yet," Alvin muttered.

The Sorceress appeared beside them like mist. "You have quite the talent for causing diplomatic nightmares."

Vincent grinned. "It's a gift."

Later That Morning….

Darin finally managed to separate himself from the tribute line after multiple apologies, assurances that no, he would not be selecting a bride today, and a vague lie that "the Shadow Beast's decisions are final." He was now hiding behind a cargo wagon, breakfast in hand, trying to enjoy five seconds of peace.

The Sorceress joined him, sitting cross-legged beside him with a piece of grilled meat in hand.

"You're taking this all rather well," she noted.

"I'm pretending none of it happened," Darin said.

"Healthy."

Darin chewed, then glanced at her. "You think they'll try again tomorrow?"

"Oh, almost definitely."

He looked down at Grumble, who had returned and was now curled next to his leg, perfectly content.

"Well," Darin muttered. "At least you're happy."

Grumble gave no response except a slight tail twitch.

Vincent, now seated on top of a barrel, waved the scroll dramatically. "So what do we tell Father?"

Alvin scowled. "We tell him we're doing our job."

"Our job was diplomacy," Vincent reminded. "Instead, we helped defeat an ancient queen ant, leveled part of a cursed forest, and accidentally got involved with an actual Overlord reincarnation."

Darin raised a finger. "Alleged."

Vincent snorted.

Steve stretched beside them, burping softly, and blinked in sleepy agreement.

The Sorceress narrowed her eyes, staring across the northern horizon.

"The calm won't last," she murmured. "Something else is coming. Something worse." PublicationcourtesyofM|V|LE-MPYR.

Darin sighed. "Can we not have one week of quiet?"

"I thought this was quiet," Alvin muttered.

Elsewhere in the Camp…

The Elder Gallikarn was once again talking to his people. Loudly.

They were making banners now.

With Grumble's face on them.

Worship banners.

The Sorceress casually turned her head toward Darin.

"You could tell them to stop."

Darin deadpanned. "Have you ever successfully told a cult not to worship something?"

"…Point taken."

Grumble let out a tiny yawn and licked his paw.