For Dah Ovahlord! 2 (Patreon)

I staggered a little bit as I stepped into the forest, the makeshift teleporter being much rougher than I was expecting. Regardless, I made my way past the pond at the base of the tree to meet with the small group of browns. One with a pickaxe and a mining helmet raced up to me, all but bouncing on his feet.

“Mastah, Mastah! We finds it! Dis way, dis way!” the excitable little gremlin cheered before leading me deeper into the forest. My lips quirked into an amused smirk as I followed him, my eyes taking in the surroundings. It seemed like a basic bitch forest, the only thing of note being the weird face carved into the white tree I’d walked out of.

“Tell me everything,” I ordered as we approached the gaggle of brown minions.

“We finds castle town, sees magic tree inside wall,” he started to explain, and I spotted the beginning of the wall he mentioned. “Grubby knows digging, knows teleportah magic. Senses magic tree work for Tower’s teleportah. Den we finds da Towah Heart in forest outside castle town!”

So step one was getting out of the fortress I’d been teleported into, followed by finding the Tower Heart, and getting it back to the pale faced tree. Lovely, especially since I didn’t have the greens with spider mounts to easily climb over the wall. Still, the browns were looking to be much more industrious than I’d been expecting, because Grubby led me to a hole that’d been dug at the base of the wall.

“Mastah jump down!” Grubby cheered, pointing to the hole. “Grubby makes hole big enough for da Mastah!”

I stared at him for a moment, before shrugging and hopping down into the hole. I landed in a roll to bleed momentum, but sure enough, it was tall enough that I could comfortably stand in it. The browns soon followed, Grubby pulling a very crude looking wooden lid over the top. I followed the minions, the tunnel leading a lot further than I’d been expecting, eventually terminating along a gentle upward slope into the forest.

“Which way to the Tower Heart?” I demanded, eager to be away from an unknown fortress while still weak.

“Dis way! Dis way!” one of the minions shouted, tugging on the butt of my glaive and pointing in a random direction.

“No, dis way!” another minion cried out, pointing in the opposite direction. There was a quiet clang as my armored gauntlet met my helmet. I don’t know why I expected anything different.

[hr][/hr]

“Move it ya sorry slobs! We need to get the Tower Heart back to the magic tree!” a minion with a glass eye shouted at the group of grunting and groaning minions carrying a glowing orb that had to be at least ten times their weight.

It took two hours before we reached the Tower Heart, and the gaggle of minions were now outfitted with an assortment of animal heads, skins, feet, and other assorted body parts. One had somehow managed to turn a bear’s forelimbs into furry, sleeved, claw gauntlets. Another had a stag’s head as a hat. A third had somehow turned a rabbit into a belt that even had the tail in the “right” place. It was at that point that I gave up trying to make sense of how they were doing it.

As we entered the tunnel, and the minion that had been riding the Tower Heart was knocked off his perch, I had a question that had been bothering me, “Grubby, how are we going to get the Tower Heart out of the tunnel?”

The minion cackled, before reaching into a pack I was sure wasn’t there a moment ago and pulling out a rope, “Wes make biiig rope harness, and pull Towah Heart up! Den wes carry it to magic tree and send it to da Towah!”

For the sake of my sanity, I resisted the urge to ask where the bag of rope came from and simply nodded. It was safer that way. I was a little curious how the minions got out of the tunnel, and to my slight surprise, they formed a pyramid like you’d expect from professional cheerleaders before Grubby and the one with a glass eye climbed up to the surface. A rope was then thrown down, and the pyramid of minions collapsed in on themselves before bustling about the Tower Heart.

In retrospect, it made sense that the browns were so industrious. Both Grubby and Giblet were browns, and I can’t recall a time in any of the games where any of the minions besides the browns were involved in fixing up the Tower itself. Well, besides the reds being needed for making the Smelter/Forge work properly. In any case, the Tower Heart was soon bundled up in rope and the minions all shimmied up to the surface.

“Mastah, hang onto Towah Heart, we pull up at same time!” Grubby shouted down.

Well, considering what it took to break the Tower Heart between the games, I figured it was strong enough to handle me if the browns proved to be inadequate. So I hopped up onto the Tower Heart, coiled the rope around my off hand, and gave two tugs.

The minions began to haul me and the Tower Heart up, the little buggers amazingly strong despite their diminutive size. In less than a minute, I was up out of the hole and the minions were hefting the Tower Heart over to the tree. It was placed in front of the carved face, and with a quiet crackle, like electricity off a tesla coil mixed with bad TV static, it disappeared back to the Tower.

With a grin, I turned back to the minions, barking orders, “Make sure the tunnel we used is sealed off, I don’t want to take the chance that the locals will discover it. Once you’ve done that, return to the Tower. We will begin preparations soon after.”

“Yes, Mastah!” the minions cheered as one, before I approached the tree. I felt the magic of my Tower reach out to me through the tree, wrapping around me like a warm blanket, and I was gone.

Gnarl, of course, was waiting for me as I arrived, “Welcome back, Master. With the Tower Heart restored, the Brown Hive has been revitalized and we will be able to better coordinate our search for the lost minion tribes.”

“Good,” I said as I walked past him, my mind alight with thoughts, memories, and knowledge flowing into me from the restored Tower Heart.

Countless spells, rituals, and other forms of arcane knowledge were being downloaded into my brain. Ways of manipulating mana to suit my needs and desires, from detailed and intricate spells with the care and precision of a scalpel to simple and direct manipulation of raw mana. Glancing over to a brazier, I pointed towards it with an arm, reaching out with my mana, and the fire within positively leapt out to dance in the palm of my hand. The flames obeyed my thoughts, swirling, dancing, flowing about me like an excited ferret. My lips stretched into a grin as I let the flames die. I knew exactly what I was going to do with this power first.

A quick trip to the dungeons, a touch of Evil Presence and Vile Virility, and then it was off to my Overlordly bedchambers with a busty, caramel skinned, pointy eared and freshly impregnated bed warmer. This had been a good day, with nothing having gone wrong at all.

[hr][/hr]

“Grabs dem! Da Mastah said no signs wes here!”

The browns obeyed the proxy orders, tying up the three children that had stumbled across the departing minions with excess rope and promptly gagging them before fleeing down the tunnel, filling it in behind them.

[hr][/hr]

Which is why when I came down to the Throne Room the following morning to see three brats of different ages hogtied and gagged in front of my throne, I was more than a little perplexed.

“Gnarl,” I spoke slowly, making the three kids turn their heads to try to look in my direction. “The ankle biters were not here when I retired for the evening. Explain.”

The minion master approached, wringing his hands and looking unusually nervous, “Well Master, it appears that these three snot machines stumbled across the minions shortly after you returned to the tower. You did order that the locals not learn about the tunnel, so Grubby concluded that the best way to do that was to bring them back to the Tower.”

I didn’t immediately respond, simply pinching the bridge of my nose and praying for the strength to not kill stupid minions. If I did that, I wouldn’t have any minions left. Gnarl took that moment to continue, “If I may say so, Sire, this could be a fortunate opportunity. We have no knowledge of the regional geography or politics, and these three potential converts could help fill the gap in our knowledge. Plus, there have been previous Overlords with a fondness for them young.”

I stared at Gnarl, before turning my gaze to the confused faces of the kidnapped brats. Only one looked to be older than ten (though that one was certainly pretty). Turning my attention back to Gnarl, I drawled, my voice as dry as a sun baked skeleton, “I do have some standards, Gnarl.”

“Of course, Sire,” he immediately agreed. “But my point about bleeding them for information stands.”

There were some muffled noises of distress from the rugrats, but I ignored them as I considered Gnarl’s suggestion. We did need more information, and it wasn’t like we had people lining up to share what they knew with us. Without some sort of knowledge of the region, we’d be stumbling around in the dark hoping to trip over the missing hives or other parts of the Tower.

“Blegh,” I heard a wordless noise coming from where the walking petri dishes were, and glanced over to see that the pretty one had managed to spit out the makeshift gag. Big doe eyes glared at me from the floor, hands and ankles tied together behind their back like a pig ready for the spit. “I won’t let you hurt my sisters.”

“‘Let’?” I asked, amusement in my voice. “You won’t ‘let’ me? Tell me, how exactly do you intend to stop me from doing anything? Perhaps it escaped your notice, but you are not exactly in a position to do much of anything.”

There was no response, and I could tell that they didn’t really have a plan, beyond making that declaration of protection. It was cute, adorable, really. I hummed contemplatively, taking in the squirt’s features. A touch more masculine than I’d prefer, but still pretty enough. It was at that point that an idea popped into my head, and I grinned.

“I’ll tell you what, Brat, I’ll make you a deal,” I said, getting the tiny shota’s attention. Seeing that he was listening, I continued, “Down the Tower a few floors we have a training ground and fighting arena. Each round you win, I won’t touch one of you. Win three rounds, and all three of you will remain… unspoiled.”

He stared at me, before nodding, not having any other options.

[hr][/hr]

“Sire, if I may inquire,” the elderly minion master began as the sprog tested the balance of his borrowed blade down in the arena. “What exactly is your plan with this disgusting slug?”

I glanced past Gnarl to where the other two kids were sitting, a ginger and a brunette, before answering, “I have no interest in either of the girls at this point in time, so he can face the newest minions. If he makes it to the third round, I’ll go down and deal with him myself. This is mostly a test to see if he has the potential to serve as a general or possibly a guardian in my harem.”

I returned my focus to the arena, where two of the brown minions came out, hopping and skipping like a demented farmer thinking he’s walking through a portal to heaven. Turning my gaze to look at the shota squirt, I raked my eyes over him, not thinking about sex or how adorable he’d look choking on my cock, but rather instead looking him over with a warrior’s eye. He’d had some training, and at a guess I’d say he had quite a bit of natural talent in the art of the blade.

There was a good chance he’d win this round, possibly even the second, before I’d need to step in and properly… evaluate him. I leaned forwards, chin resting on my crossed fingers and elbows on my knees as I watched.

As I expected, the fight was… well it was boring. A newly formed brown minion and a boy who’d not even hit puberty weren’t going to make for an interesting fight. It wasn’t like in some weeby bullshit anime where kids barely out of diapers would somehow be able to fight on par with adults who’d had years of training and physical development. I don’t care what kind of bullshit pink eye crap you had, that kinda hamfisted lazy writing doesn’t happen in real life!

Still, that aside, I could see potential in him. The fact that he managed to drive his borrowed sword into the minion’s neck after frantically dodging and flailing said as much. His sisters cheered and clapped, happy that their brother was doing well, but not noticing how tired he was. What happened next… well it was embarrassing. He didn’t kill the second minion, the dumb fuck tripped over the dead minion and fell eyeball first on its own sword.

The crowd of minions laughed uproariously as I facepalmed. I dragged my hand down across my face and ordered, “Give him five minutes to rest and take care of the bodies, then send in three minions.”

“Yes, Sire,” Gnarl said, looking just as exasperated as I was.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. I was surrounded by idiots, but the minions still had their uses. I couldn’t just kill them all because they were more mentally handicapped than a bunch of inbred nobles who thought ostracizing one of the four people capable of stopping the apocalypse was a good idea. Pushing that thought aside, I returned my focus to the arena as three fresh minions entered the arena armed with a sword, an ax, and a mace. All three had somehow managed to stretch out a rat corpse into a hat for themselves.

“Are they wearing,” the brown haired girl started to ask, before I interrupted her.

“Don’t ask, don’t question it,” I said bluntly, making both girls jump. “Trust me, you don’t want the headache that comes with trying to make sense of it.”

Turning my focus back to the arena, I watched as the boy showed surprising awareness of his surroundings and an immediate understanding of how to handle the numbers disadvantage he was at. More specifically, he was making sure to keep at least one minion between him and the other two. He was doing surprisingly well at it too, even employing a dirty trick or two in an attempt to keep them off balance. Probably would have been more effective if the minions had genitals to be kicked.

Still, it provided enough of a distraction that my soon to be shota slut was able to skewer the first minion though the chest. Only for a second minion to shove the first aside before he could take his sword out, disarming him. He fell back, landing on his tight booty, and scrambled away as the two remaining minions hacked and bludgeoned away at the ground where he was just a moment before.

“JON!” the two girls screamed, as he managed to get his feet under him and started running, the two minions hot on his heels.

He managed to stay ahead of the minions long enough to reach where the rapidly decomposing body of the defeated minion was, the alchemically created facsimile of life breaking down now that the life force powering it had faded. He didn’t bother stopping to examine the corpse, only slowing down enough to reach down and pick up the sword that the minion had been using. Spinning around, he brought the sword up with both hands, the blade biting into the wooden haft of the ax.

The second minion managed to move around the first one, and brought its mace down on his leg, the bone snapping audible even from up in the stands. Once again, he fell to the ground, this time dragging the other minion with him. Even considering the immense pain he had to be feeling, he remained coherent enough to brace the pommel of the sword against the floor and pulled the falling minion against it, impaling and killing the second of three minions. As soon as the minion went limp, he shoved it aside and started rolling.

I wasn’t sure if it was planned or simply good fortune, but he rolled right into the legs of the last minion, knocking it over onto the ground. With his one good leg, he climbed on top of the minion and started punching its face. Again and again, until skin split and blood flowed, before reaching to the side and picking up a rock, bringing it down, repeatedly, onto the minion’s head. The minions in the stands cheered uproariously, hooting, hollering, and laughing their empty heads off.

Finally, out of breath and shaking with the rush of adrenaline, he stopped. The minion’s head was nothing but a puddle of blood, greymatter, and pulped bone. He stared at the minion’s body, the rock falling from his limp fingers, before he fell backwards, crying out as doing so made his leg flare.

All the while, I had a satisfied smirk on my face. Standing, I gave Gnarl his orders as I made my way downstairs, “Get the arena cleaned up and the boy healed. I want him in top form for the third round. It is going to be… entertaining.”

“Yes, Sire. It will be done,” Gnarl said, before shouting orders to the surrounding minions.

I could have just sent a group of four minions in, either after he’d been healed or immediately. He’d barely managed against three, four would be too much. But I wanted to have some fun myself, and seeing him struggling so hard, fighting so desperately, what can I say, it turned me on.

The thought made me pause as I descended the stairs. I’d been inserted into this body maybe two days ago, but I wouldn’t have even considered what I was planning. Was it the body perverting my thoughts? The position of the Overlord? Something else? I shrugged, it didn’t really matter did it? I was the Overlord, the pinnacle of Evil in a world where Good was either utterly incompetent or infuriatingly stupid. Or both.

Given the alternatives, I’d take being Evil over so-called Good every day. And this Evil Bitch had her eyes on a certain shota’s virgin ass.