Dark Dragon: The Summoned Hero Is A Villain

Noah stood by his window, his gaze fixed on the academy gates in the distance.

If it were anyone else, the image wouldn't be this clear, but his eyes were special.

The moonlight shone brightly, its light spilling across the courtyard, where the last of the students shuffled through with weary steps.

The great iron gates groaned as they began to swing shut, sealing the academy off from the outside world for the night.

For most, it was the promise of safety. For Noah, it was a reminder that safety was an illusion.

He shut the window with a quiet click, exhaling slowly.

His thoughts were still on the charred, broken figure he had handed over earlier. Snake.

He had squeezed him dry of information, then delivered him into Rowe's hands.

That chapter was closed. But Snake was just a link in the chain. The rot extended deeper. To the root.

And Noah always went for the root.

His cloak rustled as he called on his mana.

The air around him rippled. A heartbeat later, his body dissolved into nothingness, and he reappeared in the capital.

He walked without hesitation, moving through narrow streets, and slipping into unlit corners where no lantern burned.

His steps carried him to the warehouse district, a place abandoned to silence and shadows.

Rows of shuttered buildings stretched out like a graveyard of industry, hollow and lifeless.

Noah stopped before a particular warehouse, its doors warped and its windows black.

He pushed the door open and stepped into the dust-choked air.

Deep inside, a door waited.

He pulled it open, revealing a staircase winding downward into the earth. He descended, the sound of his boots echoing against stone walls.

The stairs spat him out into a vast underground chamber. A lab.

Strange contraptions glimmered under the pale glow of crystals, tubes of unknown liquids pulsed with faint light, and the air smelled of burnt metal and blood.

And there, standing in the center of it all, hands clasped neatly behind his back and a wide grin plastered across his face, was Othello.

"Welcome, Noah Webb," he said.

Noah didn't bother asking how Othello knew him. At this point, it didn't really matter.

His boot clicked against the floor, until he stopped just a breath away from Othello.

The madman's grin stretched even wider, his pale glasses glinting under the light of the lab's glowing crystals.

Noah's voice was cold as he asked the one question he needed an answer for. "Why Juniper?"

For the first time, Othello blinked in surprise.

Then, his grin returned, splitting into a bubbling laugh that rang across the chamber.

"Oh, I thought you'd start with something cleverer than that. But if you must know, why not Juniper?"

His voice rose, echoing like a sermon. "A girl of no consequence. A life that would have been wasted in mediocrity."

"And yet, through me, I elevated her! I fashioned for her, an important place in history. She was the first. My glorious prototype."

"She gave her body and soul to a cause greater than herself. She should be grateful to have contributed to the dawn of a new Camelot!"

Each word dripped with twisted conviction, his arms outstretched like a prophet.

Noah's expression didn't change. His shadows rippled faintly at his feet, but his orange eyes burned.

"You'll die today. I'll make sure of it."

His hand lifted, mana surging as the spell circle spun into existence. "Pocket Cube."

Reality folded inward. White walls unfolded around them, stretching to form a thirty-by-thirty room.

The air thrummed, and the lab outside vanished as the two men were locked in a new space.

Othello only laughed harder, throwing his arms wide. "Yes! Yes! This is what I've been waiting for!"

He raised his own hand, and a dark spell formation bloomed.

The Pocket Cube shuddered as black panels cracked through its walls, expanding half the chamber outward.

The space doubled in size, one side pale white, the other stained pitch black.

"Now, stop talking," Othello sneered, his grin feral. "Attack me!"

Noah didn't waste another second.

Mana surged through him, shadows curling along his arms as he thrust out his hand.

The familiar pull of Devour tore across the air, a wave of darkness racing straight for Othello.

Before it could reach, Noah layered it with another spell.

Pillar of Judgement.

Light and flame coalesced into a blazing column, roaring down from the ceiling of the Cube to crash into Othello.

The space shook under the impact, the white and black walls trembling as the pillar scorched down.

But Othello's laugh grew louder than the roar.

A twisting shield of black plates folded upward, drinking in the darkness while scattering the flames into sparks.

He stepped through the smoke untouched, a grin carved wide across his face.

"My turn."

Othello surged forward with terrifying speed.

Noah barely had time to flash step to the side before Othello's fist tore through the space he'd just vacated.

The blow cracked the Cube's floor, fragments scattering like glass.

Noah countered with another strike, but Othello intercepted it, twisting his arm and slamming his knee into Noah's ribs.

Pain lanced through Noah's side, but he forced himself to endure, lashing out with his tail.

Othello ducked low, his grin never flickering, and grabbed the tail mid-swing.

With a savage yank, he dragged Noah off balance and drove his elbow into Noah's face.

The impact snapped his head back, sending a ringing through his skull.

Noah staggered, blood dripping from his lip, but he swung anyway, shadows clinging to his fist.

The punch landed, but Othello only absorbed it, twisting with the momentum and smashing his palm into Noah's chest.

The blow launched him backward.

He hit the ground, skidding across the white stone, his cloak whipping around him as the friction tore into his back.

Othello didn't follow immediately.

He stood tall, dusting his hands like he'd just finished adjusting a puzzle rather than trading blows.

His glasses reflected the dim light, his eyes twin points of glee.

"You call this fury?" he taunted.

"You're strong, Noah Webb, stronger than the rats I've tested. But strength without madness? Without vision?"

He spread his arms, his voice echoing across the chamber. "That makes you nothing more than a child playing at war."