I Was Mistaken for the Reincarnated Evil Overlord-Chapter 62: The Whispering Path

The Reaper Forest remained eerily silent as Darin’s company regrouped, preparing to continue their march northward. The monstrous corpse behind them still oozed black ichor, but the excitement from the battle was already fading, replaced by a sense of unease.

Darin, still gripping the monster core in his pocket, exhaled slowly. His mind was a mess of conflicting thoughts.

He let out a frustrated sigh. One problem at a time, Darin. Just get through the damn forest first.

"Alright, everyone," he called out, standing from the rock. "We’re moving forward. I want scouts ahead and rear guards alert. No distractions. We don’t know what else is lurking in this cursed place."

A chorus of "Yes, Overlord!" rang through the air.

Darin winced. Still not used to that…

As the company moved, the trees seemed to close in tighter, their twisted, gnarled limbs stretching overhead like skeletal fingers. The deeper they ventured, the more unnatural the air became.

No wind. No rustling leaves. Just an endless void of quiet.

Then came the whispers.

Soft, distant, like echoes slipping through the trees.

Darin stopped mid-step, his grip tightening on his warhammer. "Did anyone else hear that?"

Vincent, walking beside him, frowned. "Hear what?"

Alvin, always on high alert, had already unsheathed his sword. "Whispers."

The Sorceress nodded, her eyes narrowing as she gazed into the darkness ahead. "We have entered a haunted section of the forest. The dead linger here."

Darin groaned. "Great. Of course there are ghosts. Why wouldn’t there be ghosts?"

Vincent chuckled. "Oh, don’t worry, Darin. Ghosts are usually weak to—"

The words died in his throat as a shape flickered into view ahead of them.

It was a figure, barely visible, a translucent shadow drifting between the trees.

Then another.

And another.

Dozens of them, moving just out of reach.

Their faces were blurred, their bodies wrapped in decayed armor and tattered cloaks, like echoes of soldiers long forgotten. Some clutched weapons, rusted and broken. Others simply stared, their hollow eyes filled with silent agony.

Darin tightened his grip on his warhammer. His gut told him these weren’t just harmless spirits.

One of the scouts suddenly gasped.

"S—Sir!" the man stammered. "One of them looks like my brother—!"

Before Darin could react, the scout bolted forward, his expression desperate.

"STOP!" Darin shouted, but it was too late.

The moment the scout crossed an invisible threshold, the nearest ghost’s hollow eyes flickered with malevolent light—

And then the entire forest erupted into chaos.

A piercing wail split the air as the spirits lunged forward, their once-aimless drifting turning into a frenzied assault.

The scout barely had time to scream before an ethereal clawed hand plunged into his chest.

Darin watched in horror as the man convulsed, his body writhing, before he simply collapsed, motionless.

Then his eyes snapped open, glowing with eerie blue light.

He stood.

But it wasn’t him anymore.

More spirits surged forward, targeting Darin’s men.

"TO ARMS!" Darin bellowed, swinging his warhammer forward. "DON’T LET THEM TOUCH YOU!"

Vincent and Alvin were already moving.

Vincent charged, his sword crackling with energy as he slashed through a ghost, his blade cutting through its misty form with surprising effectiveness.

Alvin spun, his spear coated in a flickering enchantment, and impaled one of the spirits, pinning it to the ground before it evaporated into nothing.

The Sorceress, unfazed as always, raised one hand. A dark sigil appeared beneath her feet.

"Back to the abyss," she whispered.

Chains of pure shadow erupted from the ground, wrapping around several spirits and dragging them down, their agonized screams fading as they were forcibly banished.

Darin, meanwhile, was already in motion.

He planted his feet, swung his warhammer overhead with the help of the overlord, and brought it crashing down onto the nearest spirit.

BOOM.

The impact sent a shockwave of raw force rippling through the battlefield. The spirit shrieked as it disintegrated on contact, its form breaking apart like shattered glass.

Darin exhaled. At least my hammer works on them.

But there were too many.

The ghosts kept coming, their numbers endless. And every time they struck down one of Darin’s soldiers, that soldier rose again—possessed, hollow-eyed, an enemy.

"This is getting out of hand!" Vincent called. "We need a way to stop them all at once!"

Darin gritted his teeth, swinging his warhammer again and again, but even with his strength, it wasn’t enough.

Then—

A sound.

A low, rumbling growl.

Darin barely had time to turn before Grumble darted forward.

The little feline, still brimming with energy from his earlier feast, opened his jaws wide—

And let out a deafening roar.

Darkness exploded from his body like a shockwave, rippling outward in a wave of pure, corruptive energy.

The ghosts froze.

Then they screamed.

The wave washed over them, their misty forms flickering wildly as if caught in a storm. Some tried to flee. Others clawed at the air, desperate to resist.

But none survived.

One by one, the spirits disintegrated into wisps of shadow, vanishing completely.

And just like that, the battlefield was silent once more.

Darin stood there, panting.

His heart was still racing. His grip on his warhammer was tight.

But the fight was over.

He looked down at Grumble.

The tiny beast yawned. Then, as if nothing had happened, he padded over to Steve and curled up against his leg, purring softly.

Steve, still trembling, didn’t say a word.

Vincent let out a low whistle. "Well. Remind me never to piss that thing off."

Alvin sheathed his sword. "Tch. Ghosts are annoying."

The Sorceress, meanwhile, was studying the battlefield. She glanced at Grumble with a curious expression before turning to Darin.

"Grumble," she said. "He is growing."

Darin frowned. "Yeah, no kidding."

He wiped sweat from his brow and exhaled.

This day just kept getting weirder.

The cultists, as expected, had been watching the battle in awe.

One of them, a particularly wide-eyed young man, fell to his knees.

"PRAISE BE TO THE OVERLORD’S HOLY BEAST!!"

The others followed suit.

"THE SHADOW DEVOURER HAS SPOKEN!"

"BEHOLD, THE HERALD OF DARKNESS!"

"WE ARE BLESSED TO WITNESS THIS MIRACLE!"

Darin groaned. "…when will this end."

Vincent clapped a hand on his shoulder, grinning. "Hey, at least we survived!"

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"Yeah," Darin muttered, rubbing his temple. "But I have a feeling this forest isn’t done with us yet."

The Sorceress nodded. "Correct. We are merely close to the center of the forest."

Darin groaned. "Of course."

As the company reassembled and prepared to move forward, he felt the weight of the monster core in his pocket again.

Its whispers were louder now.

Darin sighed.

I just want to reach the North without losing my sanity.