Dark Dragon: The Summoned Hero Is A Villain

Noah didn't waste a second.

The moment he laid eyes on the cloaked figures, he vaulted onto his own sill and climbed out into the cold night.

The chilly air bit at his face as his boots found purchase on the stone wall. His fingers gripped the edges between bricks as he climbed upwards, his movements silent.

He moved quickly, tracking the faint swish of cloth and scrape of boot soles above him.

The academy grounds were eerily quiet during this time of night. All he could hear was the rhythmic sound of his own breathing.

Halfway up, a soft crash reached his ears. The sound of shattering glass. The intruders had entered.

He pulled himself up faster.

By the time Noah reached the fourth floor, the broken window yawned open before him like a wound in the wall.

He didn't hesitate.

He swung himself through the opening.

The room was in chaos. Furniture had been overturned, and the floor littered with shards of glass from the broken window.

And at the center of it all was Arlo, his white hair disheveled, green eyes glowing faintly as he fought three cloaked figures who moved with impossible speed.

"Arlo!" Noah shouted, but his voice didn't travel far, echoing back to him.

The intruders had put up noise dampening spells.

Arlo didn't look back. "About time!" he barked. "Don't kill them! Capture them if you can!"

The nearest attacker lunged at Arlo's side, blade flashing.

Arlo ducked low, frost blooming across the floor as his mana surged.

The intruder's feet froze mid-step, locking him in place for an instant. Arlo pivoted, striking with his elbow and sending the figure crashing into the wall.

Another came for him immediately, moving like a shadow, dagger aimed for his throat.

Noah intercepted the attack, catching the attacker's arm and driving his knee into their chest. The force sent the figure stumbling back, but they didn't make a sound.

The third came at him from behind. Noah spun, mana crackling along his palm in an imitation of Flash Step, and slammed it into the intruder's stomach.

The impact threw the figure backward into a table, splintering wood.

"Fast," Arlo hissed, ducking another swing.

"Too fast," Noah muttered, blocking a dagger strike.

Noah had no spell that would be useful for capture in this situation, so he had to limit himself to fighting with no spells.

The cloaked figures fought with eerie coordination, their movements unnatural, like marionettes guided by invisible strings.

Noah sidestepped a slash, grabbed the attacker's wrist, and twisted hard. The dagger clattered to the floor.

He aimed a punch at the figure's head, but before he could land it, the body suddenly went limp.

It collapsed, hitting the ground with a dull thud.

He blinked, thrown off by how quickly the fight had shifted. "What?"

Arlo froze, staring at the fallen intruder. The other two continued attacking.

"Oh, shit. Arlo cursed, realizing something.

He spun, conjuring a wall of ice that blocked one attacker's path. The figure slammed into it but didn't stop, its movements jerky and violent.

Noah lunged for the second one, trading a flurry of blows. He ducked low, swept the figure's legs out from under them, and drove his fist into their chest.

The body shuddered once, then went limp, falling face-first to the ground.

The smell hit him immediately. A foul, sickly odor that made his stomach twist.

"Arlo," he said quietly.

"I see it," Arlo answered grimly.

Only one intruder remained. It darted between them, its dagger slicing through the air.

Arlo caught its arm in a burst of frost, locking it in place. "Now!"

Noah didn't hesitate. He slammed his palm against its chest, releasing a surge of mana that sent the figure flying backward into the wall.

The body crumpled, and then, just like the others, went still.

The room fell silent.

Both of them stood there, their breathing heavy.

Arlo scanned the bodies. "They're not moving," he said finally.

Noah stepped closer, his guard still up. "Or they're waiting for something."

He crouched beside the nearest fallen figure. Slowly, he reached out and pulled back the hood.

His breath caught in his throat.

The face staring back at him was gray and lifeless. The skin had the waxy texture of a corpse, the eyes dull and half-lidded.

"Clark," Noah muttered. He recognized the student immediately. It was the same name from his list of missing students.

Arlo knelt beside another, tugging the hood down. "Gus," he said grimly. "Also on the list."

A sense of dread crawled through the room.

There was one body left. The final intruder lay face-down near the shattered window.

Noah exchanged a look with Arlo. They both moved forward. Together, they turned the body over.

Noah's blood ran cold.

Jon.

The same student he had spoken to that very morning. The same one who'd complained about sleepless nights and the scratching at his window.

But now Jon's eyes were open, empty, and his skin was the same as the others, gray, cold, and rotting.

The faint smell of decay filled the room.

Noah stepped back slowly, his jaw tightening.

"This doesn't make sense," he said. "They were dead. Dead for days at least. Their skin—"

"They were moving," Arlo finished grimly. "Someone reanimated them."

Silence filled the air.

Arlo straightened, scanning the walls and floor.

Faint traces of mana shimmered under his eyes, lines of dark energy that twisted and dissolved before he could trace them.

"Residuals," he murmured. "Someone used them as vessels. When the control was broken, their bodies just… stopped."

Noah's fists clenched. "So they were puppets. The Lady in Dark?"

"Maybe," Arlo said, though his voice was tight. "But I don't think so."

Noah looked down at Jon's lifeless face. He remembered the exhaustion, the haunted look in his eyes. The scratching at his window.

'It wasn't branches,' Noah realized grimly. 'He was already marked.'

The stench of rot thickened as silence fell again.

Then a soft flutter of wings broke it.

Both of them turned towards the window just as a small black bird flew in, landing gracefully on the edge of a broken desk.

The air shimmered, and the bird's shape began to stretch and twist. Feathers folded into fabric, and within seconds, Professor Faye stood before them, her expression darkening as she took in the sight.

"What in the heavens…" she whispered, eyes widening.