Overlord: Wrong World, Can I Change It?

I smelled it before I saw it.

Freshly baked bread. That soft, dangerously inviting scent of warm crust and fruit jam drifting through the forge yard, haunting my dreams more and more lately.

I was mid-swing behind the forge, Ki flowing steadily through my limbs, each motion precise and clean. Basic forms. Just me, my breath, the sword, and silence.

Naturally, it didn't last.

"Luuucien!"

The flow shattered.

Tina. Again.

I turned, sweat sticking to my brow, already halfway resigned to whatever chaos she'd brought with her this time.

She strode toward me like a royal envoy, holding up a cloth bundle with both hands, grinning like she'd just conquered a nation.

"I brought extra jam bread today," she announced proudly, holding up a cloth bundle like it was some royal offering. "Also, your mom said I could come over."

Hold on. What?

"What do you mean, my mom said you could come over?"

"I stopped by the forge this morning, showed her one of my drawings. She said it was charming and invited me to dinner. Don't worry, I told her I'm not picky."

"That's not the point, Tina."

"She also said I have nice manners."

Debatable. Very debatable.

But if Mom had already extended an invitation, then…

I sighed. There was no escape. Not from her.

I turned back to my drills. Just simple vertical cuts now, trying to clear my head. Center myself.

Then I felt it, that subtle pressure in the air. A presence behind me, heavy but familiar.

"Lucien," my father called. "Time to wrap it up."

"Perfect. I've been looking forward to this," I muttered, sheathing my training sword.

"To what? Dinner or work?" he asked with a smirk, already knowing the answer.

I looked him straight in the eye.

"Hey, you up for some overtime tonight?"

"Nice try," he chuckled. "Your mother would kill me. Besides, watching you squirm is far more entertaining."

"Had to ask."

POV: Sofia (Lucien's mother)

The girl was... surprising.

Polite, helpful, intentional. Not the usual kind of child I saw bouncing around the village.

Tina helped me slice vegetables without being asked, requested permission before touching anything, even the stew ladle and complimented my old iron pot like it was some sacred heirloom.

She leaned over the pot, eyes closed, inhaling like she was trying to memorize the recipe by scent alone.

"This smells amazing," she said. "Is that thyme? Or mountain sage?"

"A bit of both," I admitted, handing her a sliver of carrot to test. She chewed carefully, then nodded solemnly.

"Perfect crunch."

I smiled despite myself. "So, how are you finding Arona so far?"

"I like it. It smells like trees."

"That would be pine resin and smoke from the old chimneys."

"Still better than city air," she said with a shrug.

She had presence, that one. A strange confidence wrapped in mischief. The way her eyes flicked around, absorbing everything... like she was sketching the moment in her mind for later.

"So," I ventured, pretending casual interest, "what do you think of my son? He's been grumbling about you lately."

Her eyes widened for a moment, then she smiled.

"Oh really? That's great."

"How is that great?"

"It's simple," she replied, grinning. "If he talks about me, that means he's thinking about me. Better than being ignored."

I blinked. That wasn't the kind of thing children usually said. Then again, Lucien wasn't exactly a typical child either. He'd been training nonstop for over a month, and the way he spoke and moved... maybe they really were made for each other.

"Has Lucien always been like that?" she asked.

I considered.

"Yes. Lucy has always been a bit... different. Quiet, thoughtful, sharp. But sometimes, he keeps people at arm's length."

"Lucy, huh? That's cute," she said with a little smirk. Why did I suddenly get chills?

We set the table together. She fluffed the seat cushions, aligned the cutlery like we were hosting nobility. When I joked that the only noble we ever hosted was Gilo, she burst into uncontrollable laughter and nearly dropped a plate.

She even fluffed the seat cushions. Such a considerate girl, placing everything just right.

I glanced out the window.

Lucien was out later than usual. Probably trying to invent an excuse or conspire with Erob to stay in the forge longer. Those two will be the death of me.

Honestly, I don't understand what problem that boy has. Tina's such a sweet girl.

POV: Lucien

When I stepped inside, the house smelled like dinner and doom.

Tina had already claimed the seat beside mine. Of course.

"You're late," she said primly, patting the spot she'd set with a spoon. "I made sure it's your favorite."

"Thanks," I muttered, slumping into the chair like a prisoner heading to the gallows.

Mom brought out the food: roasted carrots, golden potatoes, herb-crusted lamb. Simple dishes, but they looked like a feast.

Dad arrived moments later, ruffled my hair, and took his seat at the head of the table.

He gave me a look. "Lucien, sit up straight. You look like you're on trial."

I mumbled, "I am."

He leaned in conspiratorially. "You know, when your mother first invited me to dinner, I spilled stew on her lap and knocked over a candle. Still married me. So hey, you're already ahead."

"Thanks. That's... deeply encouraging."

Please let the bread choke me. Just take me now.

"How was work today, dear?" Mom asked Dad, carefully carving the lamb.

"Oh, it was..." he gave me a pointed grin, "...eventful."

Wonderful. Now they were both looking at me. Oh good—Tina too. Time for Special Move #1: Diversion.

"Hey, aren't we waiting for Gilo before we start?"

Tina jumped in.

"Grandpa went to meet with a few furious farmers. Seems like a pack of wolves has been getting bolder lately, slinking right up to the pastures at night, tearing through the sheep pens like they own the place. The farmers are demanding someone step in before they lose any more livestock."

She stared at me as she said it.

Dinner went on. Surprisingly... nicely. We talked. Laughed. Tina fit in disturbingly well.

"I can help with dishes later," she offered.

"You're our guest," Mom said warmly. "Just enjoy the meal."

At that moment, the front door creaked open.

"Evening," came a deep voice, Gilo stepped in, eyes immediately landing on Tina. "Ah, I see the date's going well."

"Grandpa!" Tina darted over and hugged him.

"Wouldn't miss the show," he said, ruffling her hair. "So? How's it going, kids?"

"Great," Tina said, guiding him to the table and piling way too much food onto his plate.

"It's working," I said. I had planned to say something more sarcastic... but one glance at my parents' expressions convinced me otherwise.

"Good to hear," Gilo said, patting my shoulder with a weight I wasn't sure was physical or emotional.

Dinner goes on, and between one thing and another, it eventually comes to an end.

After dinner, Tina helped clean up, cheerfully, efficiently, humming as she scrubbed dishes like she was preparing for battle.

"Let me earn my next invitation," she said, holding up a sparkling plate like a trophy.

When everything was done, Gilo lingered behind, hand on my shoulder.

"She's a storm, that one," he said quietly. "Learn to sail, boy."

"If I can avoid the storm, all the better."

"Try," Erob chuckled. "If not, she'll be the one steering."

I gave them a flat look. "You're both enjoying this way too much."

They didn't deny it.

Mom and Tina returned together, both of them smiling in that conspiratorial way women do when you know something dangerous is about to happen.

Tina sat down beside me again. Surveyed the room like a general. Then casually dropped a bomb.

"So, future in-laws, when can I marry Lucien?"

Dead silence.

Mom blinked. Dad choked on his water. Gilo's eyebrows launched into his forehead.

Before anyone could respond, Gilo cleared his throat. "Tina... I know you're serious. But maybe talk to your parents first. These things matter."

"Oh, they'll say yes," she said, waving a hand. "And if you're worried about him just being a blacksmith's son, don't be."

Dad frowned. Mom smiled. Gilo looked lost.

"Wait. What do you mean?" he asked. "No offense, Tina, but aren't you already engaged?"

Engaged? Seriously? Oh, fantastic. Just what I needed to hear during dinner with my entire family watching, romantic plot twists. Because clearly, my life wasn't complicated enough already. I mean, sure, Tina's smart, talented, kind of terrifying, but marriage? That would require actually wanting to be with her. And I'm absolutely, definitely, unmistakably not that guy.

"Don't worry. That was just a political move," she said with a smile. "Besides, give it ten years and Lucien will be at least a Mithril-ranked adventurer. No one will object then."

They all turned to look at me.

"Are you serious?" I asked, voice dry.

"Maybe I forgot to mention the whole engagement thing," she said playfully. "But don't stress. Just keep training, okay, Lucy?"

Lucy…

I didn't know what to say.

Why was everyone staring at me? Seriously, why?! Was I supposed to stand up and propose on the spot? Should I have pulled out a ring from under the table like this was some bizarre village version of a fairy tale? Because guess what, I don't have a ring, or a plan, or even the mental capacity to process half of what just happened. I just wanted to eat dinner, survive the jam bread, and maybe sneak back to training.

Instead, I got accidental betrothal, full family approval, and Tina looking like she'd already picked the venue.

I considered flipping the table. Just gently. As a statement.

But then Mom smiled at me. Dad raised his glass. Gilo winked.

And Tina? She just leaned her head on my shoulder like she knew she'd already won.

I was doomed.