Dark Dragon: The Summoned Hero Is A Villain-Chapter 13: Liar Or Legend

"I know the secret you’re trying to hide." Arlo said quietly.

Noah tensed, his quill pausing mid-scratch. His eyes widened slightly, though he kept his face otherwise still.

Arlo’s lips curled into a small smirk. "Don’t worry. I won’t tell."

Noah’s mind was running, trying to figure out how Arlo knew.

’How did he see it? Did he see my true potential?

The hidden SSS rank?’

He was here to destroy the system. If it was revealed that he had SSS-rank potential, it would ruin exactly what he was trying to do.

Everybody would see it as what was expected of him, instead of someone condemned trying to rise past his limits.

The weaker mages would rather follow a mage with FFF-rank potential that broke past it, than one with SSS-rank potential who was just sympathetic to their cause.

Arlo tilted his head, as if reading his thoughts.

"I can’t see everything." He said. "I know your mana capacity and magic control are both S-rank."

Noah’s breath caught in his chest. His pulse slowed, controlled, but the tension didn’t leave his shoulders.

He studied Arlo’s expression. The student was grinning, relaxed. Not mocking. Just amused.

’So he didn’t see through my race effect. He didn’t see the true rank.’

Noah didn’t let his relief show on his face. He could still keep up the charade. Still position himself as a legendary figure later.

’Good.’

Still, Noah leaned in slightly, his voice just as low.

"How?" he asked. "How did you know?"

Arlo’s grin widened. "I can see your status."

Noah blinked.

"My eyes." Arlo said simply. "They’re special. They let me see things most people would rather keep buried. Especially things they think are invisible."

Noah narrowed his gaze. "Is it a skill?"

Arlo said nothing.

"Race effect?" Noah asked.

Arlo’s grin turned sly. "Secret."

Noah frowned.

"Maybe," Arlo added, "if we become good friends... I’ll tell you."

Then he leaned back in his seat, facing forward again as if nothing had happened.

But Noah didn’t return to his notes right away.

He sat still, thoughts racing behind calm eyes.

He wasn’t the only one in Stone Tier with something to hide.

And apparently, he wasn’t the only one watching.

[][][][][]

The moment the class ended, students began to rise from their seats, collecting scrolls and muttering about what had happened.

Professor Geldrin left quickly, his robes swishing in frustration, clearly eager to escape the classroom that had humiliated him.

Noah packed his things slowly, ink bottle capped, scroll rolled, quill wrapped in cloth. He slid them into his satchel and slung it over his shoulder. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝙚𝔀𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝒐𝒎

Arlo stood beside him, hands in his pockets, still wearing that casual grin beneath his blindfold.

"Late lunch?" He asked.

Noah stared at his fellow student for a few seconds, thinking about it.

There would be nothing wrong with having someone to at least hang out with. Besides, he was sure Arlo wasn’t normal. And that was... interesting.

So, he nodded. "Let’s go."

They walked side by side down the corridors of the building, the echo of their boots bouncing softly off the walls. The academy’s midday light streamed through tall windows, casting long beams across the polished floors.

As they passed through one of the open archways, Noah spotted a group of students moving toward the main gate.

They wore second-year colors, their uniforms bearing silver cords along the sleeves. One of them laughed as he waved to a friend, stepping outside the gatehouse with a light pack slung across his shoulder.

Noah slowed. "Are they leaving the grounds?"

Arlo turned his head slightly. "Yeah. Second-years are allowed to leave after classes are done."

"I thought we were only allowed out on the seventh day."

"We are." Arlo said. "First-years are locked in tight. But once you hit second year, you can come and go during your free hours. Most of them take side jobs in the school and around the capital. The school encourages it. It builds independence."

Noah watched the gates swing open and close again.

"And third-years?" he asked.

Arlo’s smile faded slightly.

"They spend their first semester on the front lines."

Noah’s eyes narrowed. "You mean the demon front?"

Arlo nodded. "Yeah. It’s how the academy works. Starting second year, they’ll take us out there too, for a few weeks at a time. Not long enough to die... but long enough to scare us. Shake us up. Push us into Overdrive."

Noah kept walking, silent.

Arlo continued. "They call it ’controlled exposure.’ A nice way of saying they want us close enough to danger to unlock new skills, but not so close we get torn in half."

"And after we graduate?"

Arlo shrugged. "Every mage serves two years, minimum. Non-negotiable. After that, you can choose to stay in the army, or leave and take private contracts."

"Where do they send us?"

"Two places." Arlo held up a hand, raising two fingers. "The front lines. Or monster hunting teams."

He glanced in Noah’s direction.

"You, though? You’re a hero. That means you’re going straight to the front. They didn’t summon you here to kill forest beasts."

Noah’s expression didn’t change. "I see."

"But," Arlo added, his tone turning sour, "not all nobles want their kids on the battlefield. They’ll pull strings. Get them assigned to monster teams instead. Nice and safe. High pay. Lesser chances of encountering a demon horde."

Noah scoffed under his breath. "Figures."

They walked the final stretch in silence, the cafeteria’s low roof coming into view. The smell of bread and soup drifted through the open windows.

Noah stepped ahead and opened the door, Arlo following close behind.

The moment they stepped in, the noise inside didn’t dim, it shifted.

Whispers. Dozens of them.

Students leaned across tables, voices lowered but eyes not even trying to hide their stares.

Arlo grinned beneath his blindfold as they made their way toward the food line. "Fast, isn’t it? You’d think it happened a week ago, not an hour."

Noah said nothing, but his eyes flicked from face to face.

"They’re talking about the B-rank token." Arlo continued, voice low. "And about you forcing Damien Krell to his knees this morning. With just a touch to his shoulder, apparently."

Noah moved forward, picking up a tray.

A second-year at the next table snorted. "Please. You think he really dropped the Krell heir with a spell called Roar? What’s next, did he bark him into a coma?"

Someone laughed.

A Silver-tier girl nearby leaned in toward her friends. "I heard he bribed someone. No way a Stone-tier first-year casts a real fireball."

At the food counter, they were handed their standard Stone-tier meals. Vegetable broth, a slice of coarse bread, and half an apple. Noah accepted his tray in silence.

He and Arlo made their way to an empty table in the far corner. The low murmur of disbelief and mockery followed them all the way.

As they sat, Arlo leaned over. "Enjoy your fame while it lasts. They’ll decide you’re either a liar or a legend. Probably both."

Noah took a sip from the broth.

Then he heard it.

Footsteps. Confident footsteps.

Ben Stanley.

He strode between tables like a noble inspecting servants, flanked by a few of his usual followers.

He stopped at Noah’s table, sneering down at him.

"Still pretending you’re something, Webb?"