Dark Dragon: The Summoned Hero Is A Villain-Chapter 48: That... Is Terrifying

Noah sat in silence beside Arlo’s bed, the soft flicker of the crystal lantern casting shadows on the infirmary wall.

The room smelled of herbs and mana-soaked ointments, and though most beds were empty now, the quiet buzz of the healer’s footsteps could be heard in the background.

Outside, the sky had gone completely dark. He should have left already. But his feet wouldn’t move.

Arlo lay still, his breath steady but shallow. His white hair, always a little messy, was now damp with sweat, clinging to his forehead.

A light sheet was drawn over his body, and his face was pale, far too pale for Noah’s liking.

It was strange to see him so still, so vulnerable. Arlo, who always had a grin and a witty comment. Arlo, who joked even when he was coughing blood. Arlo, who ran into danger beside him without hesitation.

Noah leaned back in the wooden chair, running a hand through his hair, his other hand resting on the side of the bed. He stared at Arlo for a long moment.

’Just who are you really?’ he thought.

At first glance, Arlo had seemed like an eccentric boy with a loose tongue and a strange sense of humor. But now... the picture was much more complicated.

Noah had noticed the signs.

How his uniform, despite being Stone-tier, was made of finer material.

How he never lacked money, even offering to pay for things without blinking.

How Juniper, a Gold-tier student with a noble air, claimed to be his cousin.

How Arlo was treated with a strange mix of annoyance and caution by both students and staff.

Noah remembered what Juniper had said. That Arlo had made a bet with their grandfather and ended up here in Stone-tier.

And right now, it was making quite a lot of sense. Arlo didn’t belong among them. He was clearly a noble, and not just any noble. One from a powerful family. His easygoing nature and friendly manner had made Noah almost forget that.

And then there was the skill.

Noah stared at Arlo’s face, replaying the moment in the gorge.

Arlo had used a skill none of them could even see in action. He’d stretched three seconds into forty. That was a time manipulation skill.

Whatever it was, it wasn’t something a regular FFF-rank student could do.

Which meant Arlo wasn’t regular.

Not at all.

He was hiding something. His strength. His potential. Maybe even his true ranking.

Noah had met students from noble houses before. Most of them were loud, arrogant, or spoiled.

Arlo wasn’t like them. He joked, played dumb, called himself lazy. But when things got serious, he was there. Fast. Sharp. Deadly. And even as he bled, he smiled and joked, trying to keep everyone else at ease.

That took strength. Not just in power, but in heart.

Noah sighed, sitting up straighter, eyes still locked on his friend. "You’re hiding a lot, Arlo," he muttered. "And I’m not sure why. But... I don’t care."

He looked down at his hands, remembering the feel of his Devour spell, the way the darkness had pulled in the energy, the way the world seemed to shift as his agility rose.

He was changing too. Power was growing inside him. The world around him was beginning to see it.

And yet, somehow, the person who made him feel like a normal teenager, even in a world of magic and monsters, was Arlo.

The healer stepped past, glancing in. "He’ll be fine," she said softly. "He just needs rest."

Noah nodded. "Thanks."

She moved on, and silence settled again.

Noah looked at Arlo once more, letting a small smile creep onto his face.

"Don’t keep me waiting too long. We still have a monolith to break into."

Then, with one last glance, he stood and walked out, letting the door close behind him with a quiet thud.

He sighed as he walked slowly back to his dorm, the cool wind brushing against his face.

His limbs ached faintly from the long day, but his mind was too active to focus on the fatigue.

As soon as he entered his room and locked the door behind him, he sat on the edge of his bed and brought up his status screen with a thought.

The familiar glowing text flickered into existence before his eyes.

[Status:]

[Noah Webb]

[Race: Dark Dragon]

[Rank: FFF]

[Potential: FFF]

[Affinities: Darkness, Fire, Void, Decay, Hunger]

[Core Attributes:]

[Strength: FFF]

[Endurance: FFF+]

[Agility: FF-]

[Mana Capacity: S]

[Magic Control: S]

[Skills: Roar (FFF-Rank)]

[Spells: Fireball (F-rank), Flame Spark (FFF-rank), Devour (B-rank), Rot (D-rank)]

His eyes locked onto the new spell, Rot.

He clicked it.

The description expanded, glowing softly:

[Rot (D-rank)]

[Fires a focused beam of Decay-attributed mana that disintegrates anything it touches. The beam carries the effect of instant deterioration on a physical and magical level, causing metal, flesh, and organic material to wither, collapse, or crumble to dust. Highly effective against armor, barriers, and beasts with physical defenses.]

Noah exhaled slowly, leaning back. "That... is terrifying."

He imagined it. Channeling the energy of decay into a beam, watching it unravel matter as it pierced through.

Against beasts, it would be deadly. Against barriers? Maybe even more so. It was a simple spell compared to Devour, but direct. Brutal.

’A beam of death,’ he thought. ’I’m starting to live up to that nickname they’re giving me.’

The brief boost he’d received to his agility earlier had long since faded, but the spell remained. A gift from Devour. One of its effects.

He hadn’t known the spell could do that. Granting him more than just temporary stat boosts. But that was an effect of his Dark Dragon race.

He wondered what else Devour could give him in the future. What else it could steal from what he destroyed.

He closed the status window and sat in the dim light of the room, his thoughts drifting to the seventh day.

The monolith.

He’d secured his spot to sneak into it with Arlo, Leo Hargreaves, and Galahad.

And after this battle with the Rust Vulture, he now realized how dangerous it might be.

E-rank monolith or not, they were still students. Still growing. Still weak compared to trained monster hunters.

But at least he had another spell.

He only hoped Arlo would be well enough to fight by then.

Noah leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, fingers laced together. He stared at the floor, his mind going back to Arlo’s pale face in the infirmary, the blood on his lips, the strained smile as he cracked one last joke before passing out.

"Get better, Arlo." He whispered. "We’ll be needing you there."

He sat there a while longer, then, with a quiet breath, he stood, changed into his sleepwear, and crawled into bed.

Very soon, they would enter the monolith.

And there won’t be just one beast.