Dark Dragon: The Summoned Hero Is A Villain

Noah moved through the winding streets of the capital with the confident strides of a man with a plan.

He glanced at the sun, before focusing back on his route. He made sure he was heading unerringly to the south.

The crowds grew thinner the farther he went, the gleaming marble avenues of the inner capital giving way to rougher stone and weather worn walls.

Eventually, the air grew tangy with the scent of brine.

He blinked in faint surprise as the streets opened to reveal a wide river, with dark water cutting straight through the heart of the city.

Both massive barges and smaller boats clustered along the docks, with the sailors shouting slurs and thick ropes swaying with the tide.

He hadn't known the capital sat on a river this large.

From what he could see, the river was like a bustling artery feeding the city with trade, gossip, and crime, like a chef adding ingredients to make a delicious dish.

Noah stood at the edge of the dock, arms crossed as he blended into the flow of passersby.

He let his eyes drift lazily across the scene, though his mind worked quickly.

The longer he stood there, the easier it became to sort the honest laborers from the others.

Dockhands moved with purpose, each one having work to do, while a different kind of man leaned against railings, watched pockets, and gave subtle signals with nods or hand movements.

The gangs here weren't really trying to hide. They owned the place in their own quiet way.

He adjusted his posture, then peeled away from the river, falling in step with the routes most of the men took after finishing their "business."

His pace never slowed as the surroundings shifted.

He could see shops with broken shutters and cracked lantern posts, and the narrow streets swallowed the sunlight.

He was there. The Broken Lantern district.

The place looked darker than what should've been natural. There was an atmosphere in the air, and every alley looked like it was promising trouble.

Noah smirked as he slipped into one of those alleys. The shadows swallowed him whole.

He reached into his spatial ring and drew out his leather cloak, the material falling across his shoulders like a second skin.

Then, from the same space, he pulled a strip of dark cloth, wrapping it carefully around the lower half of his face.

With his identity hidden and his silhouette darker, he stepped out from the alley.

His stride was unhurried as he made his way through the streets.

Before long, he slipped back into the Broken Lantern district like he'd never left.

It didn't take long to find what he was looking for. A cluster of three rough-looking men loitering in the shadows of an alley, whispering to each other as they watched the street.

Noah turned and stepped into the alley.

Their heads snapped toward him, eyes narrowing as one spat. "The fuck you want, cloaked boy?"

"I want the answer to a simple question and I want it fast," Noah said evenly, his voice muffled by the cloth over his face. "What gang do you belong to?"

The men stared at him for a few seconds before bursting into laughter.

One shoved off the wall, striding toward him with a grin. "You got balls walking in here asking that. Guess we'll break 'em for you."

He kicked out, catching Noah's leg. The others sneered, pulling knives.

Noah didn't flinch. He simply stepped forward.

His hand shot up in a blur, seizing the closest man's head.

With a twist, a wet crack echoed through the alley. The body crumpled at his feet.

Before it could even hit the ground, Noah whispered, "Devour."

The shadows peeled off the walls, wrapping the corpse in tendrils of black before dragging it into nothing.

The other two gang members collapsed to their knees, knives clattering on the cobblestones, their faces ashen.

"Please! Please don't kill us!" one babbled.

Noah crouched before them, his orange eyes gleaming through the dark. "I'll ask one more time. What gang are you from?"

Their voices tripped over each other, desperate. "Ash Serpents! We— we're Ash Serpents!"

A dark grin spread beneath Noah's mask. "Perfect."

He leaned closer, his voice low. "Now… tell me everything you know about your gang."

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Noah's boots struck the cobblestones with a soft click as he approached the building the Ash Serpents had described in their desperate last breaths.

It was an unassuming structure on the outside, with worn planks and shuttered windows.

The kind of place that blended into the rot of the Broken Lantern district.

In fact, he'd passed it earlier without knowing what was inside. But now, he knew better.

He didn't bother with subtlety. With one hard kick, the door slammed open, banging against the wall with a crack.

Heads snapped toward him, curses filled the air, and within seconds weapons were drawn.

The first thug lunged, knife in hand.

Noah sidestepped with eerie calm, snapping the man's wrist before burying an elbow into his throat.

He crumpled, gasping.

Another swung a club at his head.

Noah ducked, drove a fist into the man's gut, and used the momentum to flip him over his shoulder.

The man's skull cracked against the floorboards.

They came at him in waves, but it didn't matter.

Noah fought in the way he had been taught to. To end it in one attack.

This time, he didn't call on spells. He didn't roar or conjure shadows.

He didn't need to.

Every motion was efficient, and within minutes the floor was littered with bodies.

None of their weapons had even touched him.

Adjusting his cloak, he made his way deeper into the building.

He pushed through a door into a study, its shelves lined with ledgers and bottles of cheap liquor.

A desk sat at the far end, papers scattered across its surface.

Noah walked behind it, pulling the chair out and lowering himself into it with casual ease, like he belonged there.

He leaned back, his fingers tapping the desk once, then twice, the sound loud in the silence.

The silence didn't last. Heavy footsteps pounded the hallway, and the door burst open.

Three gang members stormed in, weapons drawn.

Their eyes widened at the sight of Noah sitting behind the desk.

He chuckled, leaning forward, elbows on the wood, orange eyes gleaming with dangerous amusement.

"Based on the information I got," he said softly, "I was expecting your leader to be here."

The men stiffened, uncertain, but Noah's grin widened.

His voice dropped lower.

"Bring your leader to me."