Three Days Later…
Darin had thought he had seen it all.
He had been wrong.
As their caravan reached the meeting point, the horizon crawled with figures. A sea of cultists, hundreds, if not more—stood in disciplined (and slightly fanatical) rows, waiting for him.
Black robes. Hoods. Unsettling grins.
Some carried banners embroidered with his own damn face.
Others held up scrolls as if waiting for divine decrees.
A few had somehow managed to get their hands on drums and were rhythmically chanting his name.
"Overlord! Overlord! Overlord!"
Darin clenched his jaw.
Beside him, Vincent was thriving, beaming as if this was the best day of his life. "Darin, they have a theme song! You have a theme song!"
The Stranger approached the carriage, eyes shining with fanatic devotion. "My lord! The faithful have gathered, as foretold! These are but the first wave, more will join in the coming weeks! We march with your will!"
