Dark Dragon: The Summoned Hero Is A Villain-Chapter 9: Welcome To Spellcasting

"Overdrive."

The word echoed slightly in the silence that filled the classroom, every student listening attentively.

"Overdrive occurs when a mage is pushed beyond their limit. When their life, or the life of others, is in danger. That stress can trigger your beast’s instinct to survive. And when that instinct responds... it gives you a new skill."

She let that sit for a moment.

"However, be warned. A mage cannot awaken a skill beyond their potential. If your potential is C, then your skill cannot exceed C. You cannot force an S-rank skill from a beast with D-rank potential. It will not happen."

"But," her tone sharpened, "if your mana capacity and magic control are high enough, you may still be able to cast spells above your rank."

"It is rare for a beast to grant mana capacity or control above its potential, but not impossible. However, this highlights the difference between spells and skills."

"Spells obey mana. Skills obey blood."

Noah took notes, not letting this knowledge slip away.

Overdrive.

That was the key.

If he could trigger it... if he could survive the moment... he might awaken something like Ben Stanley’s A-rank Blood Armament. Something powerful enough to change his standing overnight.

He underlined the word twice in his notes.

’I just need one chance. A single chance.’

[][][][][]

Professor Geldrin gritted his teeth as he turned the key in his office door, the soft click of the lock doing little to improve his mood.

He straightened the cuffs of his deep blue robe, brushed imaginary dust from his silver sash, and muttered under his breath as he adjusted his collar.

"Teaching Stone tier." He said quietly. "A gutter assignment."

The word tasted foul in his mouth.

Last year, he had instructed the Silver tier. Personal guidance. High-performing students. Recognition among the faculty. But now?

Now he was being sent to teach a handful of failures and charity cases. No team. No assistants. No seat at this year’s meetings.

All because of politics.

One whispered complaint behind his back. One misstep in the Council’s voting. And just like that, he was reassigned.

And what excuse had he been given? Just polite excuses that made no sense, and explanations of "diversifying perspectives."

He wasn’t fooled.

It was punishment.

He walked out of the east wing, robes fluttering behind him as he descended the short staircase. The wind caught his coat, and for a moment he closed his eyes, schooling his expression.

He wore the look of a proud, poised noble.

Not a bitter man.

"Professor Geldrin." A calm voice called.

He opened his eyes and turned.

Professor Cecilia approached from the courtyard path, her own robes still pristine from her morning lecture.

Her hair was tied back, not a strand out of place, and her gaze, as always, was too sharp for comfort.

"Professor Cecilia." He said with a smile, dipping his head politely. "A pleasure."

"Heading to teach your new class?" she asked.

He kept smiling. "Indeed. Stone tier." His voice was pleasant, almost amused. "The academy values flexibility."

Inside, he seethed.

’Do you enjoy reminding me, Cecilia?’

She gave a soft nod. "I just finished with Magical Theory. They were surprisingly attentive."

"That’s good to hear." Geldrin said smoothly.

"One of the summoned heroes was there." She added casually. "The one with the FFF rank potential."

Geldrin’s smile froze for a fraction of a second.

She noticed.

"He’ll likely be in your spellcasting class too." She said. "Just a heads-up."

"Much appreciated." He said with a small bow. "It’s always good to be prepared."

Cecilia inclined her head in return, then walked past him toward the building.

Geldrin didn’t move until she was gone.

Then the smile faded.

FFF rank potential.

So that was the little charity case everyone’s whispering about.

The one that got popular for all the wrong reasons.

He resumed walking, hands behind his back.

If the academy wanted to humiliate him by putting him in charge of the bottom of the barrel...

Then he’d just have to return the favor.

A slow, cruel smile crept across his face.

And what better way to begin than by breaking the "hero" before the others?

Stone tier or not, today’s lesson would be unforgettable.

[][][][][]

Noah pushed open the door to the lecture hall, his thoughts still circling around one word.

Overdrive.

If what Professor Cecilia had said was true, and he had no reason to doubt it, then that was the key.

The lecture hall opened wide before him, built in descending layers of stone benches. Each row curved in a wide arc, descending toward a circular platform at the center, where the instructor would teach.

Several students were already present. Most kept to themselves, some whispering, others yawning. Every row had at least three students scattered across it.

Noah stood at the top, scanning the room.

He spotted a boy with white hair slumped over a desk in the third row, clearly asleep. The rest of the row was empty.

Perfect.

Noah descended the steps quietly, boots tapping against the stone, and slipped into the seat beside the sleeping boy. He pulled his satchel off his shoulder and placed it on the floor beside him.

From within, he retrieved his scroll, a black ink bottle, and a quill with a steel tip. If this class was even half as useful as Magical Theory, he didn’t want to miss a word.

Minutes passed.

The room gradually filled with more students, the air growing thicker with movement and shifting voices. No one sat near Noah. No one tried to start a conversation.

And then the noise died.

The door opened again.

A tall man walked in, draped in blue robes with silver thread running along the sleeves. His steps were slow, controlled, like every movement had been rehearsed.

His blond hair was combed back neatly, not a strand out of place. He looked to be in his early forties, with the kind of smile that never reached the eyes.

He stepped onto the circular platform and turned to face them.

"I am Professor Geldrin," he said. "Welcome to Basic Spellcasting. I will be your instructor for the semester."

His voice was smooth. Refined. But beneath it, there was something else. Sharpness, maybe. Or distaste.

He looked around the room, pausing just long enough for the silence to stretch.

"I’ve been informed," he said, voice louder now, "that we have a summoned hero in our midst."

Every head in the room turned.

Noah didn’t react as dozens of eyes landed on him.

Professor Geldrin’s gaze settled on him too. His smile widened, though it held no warmth. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝚠𝕖𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝕖𝚕.𝚌𝗼𝗺

"Well," he said lightly, "I suppose it’s good to meet one in person."

Noah held his stare.

"Let’s begin with a question," Geldrin said, turning to face the class as a whole. "Can anyone tell me what these three individuals have in common? The Stormborn, Irina Valey, and Archmage Sanders?"

The room was quiet.

Noah’s eyes narrowed. He recognized the names from the handbook. They were famous figures, but beyond that, nothing came to mind.

Professor Geldrin’s gaze returned to him.

"Well?" He asked. "How about we hear the answer from our hero."