Dark Dragon: The Summoned Hero Is A Villain-Chapter 14: Do You Accept The Challenge?

"Still pretending you’re something, Webb?"

Noah looked up, meeting Ben’s red eyes without a hint of surprise.

Around them, students turned. Forks stopped halfway to mouths. Conversations froze.

Ben smiled wider, sensing the attention.

"Let me guess. You think waving around a teacher’s charity token and bullying a Silver-tier brat makes you special?"

Noah tilted his head. "I’m not pretending anything. You’re just mad I did more in two days than you’ve managed in your whole life."

A few students choked back laughter.

Ben’s smile thinned.

"I’m going to enjoy breaking that smug face."

He stepped back, raising his voice just enough to carry.

"You know academy rules allow duels between students, right? As long as no one dies, anything goes."

Noah stood.

No hesitation.

The whole room seemed to hold its breath.

He held Ben’s gaze, thinking about it. He had a spell token for a B-rank spell, but Ben had an A-rank skill. This could be his chance.

In order to achieve Overdrive, he needed to be in danger that could bring him close to death. This could be it.

If he played things right, Ben would become the catalyst for him to awaken a new skill. Preferably a S-rank skill.

"Fine." Noah said. "Tomorrow. After classes."

Gasps rippled through the tables.

Ben’s grin returned. "Let’s make it interesting."

He nodded towards Noah’s satchel, where the bronze token was hidden.

"If I win, I get your B-rank spell token."

Noah’s eyes narrowed. So, that was why Ben was here. To get the token.

If Noah rejected it, Ben would use this as an opportunity to ruin his reputation. Noah didn’t really care that much, but he needed the safety a high ranking skill would provide.

And if he wins... it would be the beginning of the legend he was trying to craft. The legend that would allow him to break the hierarchies of their society.

After thinking about it, he made his decision. "Then if I win, I get your tier."

Ben blinked.

Noah stepped closer, voice quiet but heavy with promise.

"You’re Gold now. But when I win... I’ll take your place... and you take my place."

Ben hesitated just for a second.

Then he laughed. "Deal. I hope you enjoy your last day pretending."

Noah didn’t smile.

"You’ll regret that."

The words were calm. Certain.

The silence in the cafeteria broke with a wave of murmurs.

Ben’s smirk flickered for the first time.

Noah sat back down, taking a bite of his bread like nothing had happened.

Arlo let out a soft chuckle beside him.

"I think I just decided to skip dinner tomorrow." He said. "I’ll be watching instead."

[][][][][]

The small lantern above Noah’s desk flickered faintly as he flipped through his notes. Pages filled with careful handwriting, underlined terms, and hastily drawn spell diagrams rustled under his fingers.

"Why are you napping in my room?" He asked, not looking up from his review.

Arlo stretched out lazily across the narrow bed, his arms behind his head and one leg hanging off the edge. His blindfold was still on, though Noah sometimes wondered if it even mattered.

"Because best friends nap in each other’s rooms." Arlo said, grinning. "It’s what we do."

Noah turned another page.

"I also wanted to see how the half room looked. And wow," Arlo added, glancing around despite the blindfold, "it’s even smaller than I imagined."

Noah snorted softly. "Glad you’re enjoying yourself."

"I live just above you. Room 311." Arlo continued. "The other rooms in this dump are more spacious. Yours? Used to be a broom closet. They cleared it out when they had one Stone-tier student too many."

Noah raised an eyebrow and turned in his chair, narrowing his eyes. "How do you know so much about the academy?"

Arlo sat up slightly. "Everyone knows so much about the academy. It’s not some secret lore. You’re just... not from here. Other world and all that."

Noah nodded slowly. "Right."

He paused, then asked, "What’s the actual criteria for assigning students to Stone?"

Arlo leaned back down. "It’s all about potential. FFF to F? Stone. Most Stone students have F-rank potential. E and D potential? Bronze. C and B get Silver. A and S? Gold."

Noah rolled up the scroll slowly. "What about SS or SSS-rank potential?"

Arlo chuckled. "SS is rare. Like... once a generation, if that. Sometimes, not even that often. There’s usually a fifty-fifty chance of getting one per era. But if someone did get SS, they’d still be put in Gold."

Noah waited.

Arlo shrugged. "SSS? Doesn’t exist. Not officially. No one’s ever awakened with it. Not in any record."

Noah turned back to his desk, watching the flame flicker again. "Hmm."

Arlo sat up now, curiosity stirring in his voice.

"So," he said, "you got a plan for Ben’s A-rank skill tomorrow? That Blood Armament thing sounds nasty."

Noah didn’t look back.

He reached for a fresh piece of parchment.

"I should get some sleep." He said calmly. "Class starts early."

Arlo grinned again, lying back down.

"You’re no fun, you know that?"

But Noah didn’t answer.

He was already thinking ahead, about mana, structure, focus. And the edge between control and instinct.

If Ben’s skill was going to kill him... then it was exactly what he needed.

[][][][][]

In the Royal Palace

Master Edric stood hunched over a long table, quill in hand, carefully scratching notes into a thick ledger.

The warm glow of alchemical lamps filled the High Magus’s office, illuminating shelves stacked with scrolls, dried reagents, and crystal vials, most of them now empty or half-spent.

He muttered under his breath, tallying what remained of the rare resources they had burned through in the summoning.

Voidroot dust, blessed bone marrow, time stained silver, and two tears of the sun dragon. All irreplaceable. All gone.

And for what?

A knock sounded at the heavy oak door.

Edric stiffened, then straightened.

"Enter." He called.

The door swung open, and King Cillian stepped inside, his gold-trimmed robe trailing behind him. The modest black gem-studded crown on his head gleamed faintly in the lamplight.

Edric was immediately on his feet, bowing low. "Your Majesty."