Chapter 17: A Thief In Noble’s Clothing - Dark Dragon: The Summoned Hero Is A Villain - NovelsTime

Dark Dragon: The Summoned Hero Is A Villain

Chapter 17: A Thief In Noble’s Clothing

Author: ChakraLord
updatedAt: 2025-08-01

CHAPTER 17: A THIEF IN NOBLE’S CLOTHING

The glow on the boy’s hand pulsed brighter, the subjugation skill, ready to fire.

Noah moved first.

He surged forward, boots skidding against the dusty stone floor, ducking low under the student’s extended arm. In one motion, he twisted the arm up and backward.

The skill fired, but upward, the magic striking the ceiling in a bright burst of green light, scattering dust and cracking stone.

Noah didn’t stop.

He shoved his shoulder into the boy’s gut, then twisted hard.

Crack!

The arm broke at the joint.

The boy screamed, stumbling back as Noah grabbed him by the collar and flung him into the crowd behind.

They collapsed in a tangle of limbs and curses.

Noah knew he could keep using the room’s doorway. Now that they were calm, they’d realized that they could just keep using their skills, and he had nowhere to dodge.

With that, he jumped after the student, flipping over the tangled mass with a short roll across their shoulders and landing light on his feet in the hallway.

But the moment he stood upright, he froze.

They were everywhere.

Boys from the floor crowded both ends of the corridor, cornering him in a crescent of bodies and wild eyes. Dozens. None of them moving just yet, but every one of them watching him, breathing heavily, waiting for a chance.

’I can’t go back in the room.’ Noah thought. ’I just need to distract them and open space for myself.’

He raised his hands, palm outward.

"Stop."

The students paused.

Not because they feared him, but because they were confused.

Noah didn’t wait. "The token’s not on me. I already exchanged it for the spell formation."

A murmur rippled through the group.

Then a voice cut through the crowd like a knife.

"He’s not telling the truth." Damien Krell said smoothly, leaning against the stair railing at the far end of the hall.

"He hasn’t redeemed the token yet. That much I checked already."

Noah’s eyes locked with his. "Of course you did."

He could see it now, how Damien had planned this. Whipped them into a frenzy. Offered coin to the desperate. And stood far enough back that he’d never dirty his own hands.

Coward.

Noah took a breath and spoke clearly.

"It’s in my trunk. You want it?" He glanced around at the students. "You don’t have to hit me. Just get to it."

That made them hesitate.

Damien’s grin spread.

"Well," he said, "you heard him."

And now Noah watched the same boys who’d just tried to tear him down begin to glance at the broken door, the small room behind it.

He’d given them what they wanted.

But now they wanted it first.

The moment they turned toward his shattered doorway, jostling and pushing to reach the trunk first, Noah moved.

He broke into a sprint, not toward his room, but straight down the hallway toward Damien, the real mastermind.

’Cut off the head, and the snake dies.’

The noble’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, just for a second.

Then he smiled. "So predictable."

He raised his hand, palm facing forward.

A spell formation bloomed across his palm, glowing with an aquamarine light. It spun into shape in an instant.

Noah’s eyes widened.

Wind spell.

He tried to pivot, muscles tensing for a dodge.

Too late.

"Gale Lash."

The spell fired with a crack of rushing air. A focused blast of wind erupted from Damien’s palm, slamming into Noah’s chest like a hammer.

Noah flew backward, limbs twisting in mid-air, his back hitting the hallway floor hard.

His head cracked against the stone with a dull thud, and for a moment everything blurred, light and shadow spinning in his vision.

He slid several feet before coming to a stop, the stone tearing at his sleeves and scraping skin.

Pain bloomed across his skull.

Damien’s laughter echoed down the hall.

"Pathetic."

Noah groaned, struggling to sit up, the world still tilting slightly.

"This is the difference." Damien said, walking forward now, arms open as if lecturing a crowd.

"The difference between grunts like you and the elite like me."

He gestured toward the scrambling students behind him. "They fight over scraps. Bow and scrape for anything they can get. I don’t need to."

He pointed to the glowing lines still faintly humming on his hand.

"I was equipped the moment I awakened."

Noah wiped blood from the corner of his mouth, his vision slowly sharpening.

"E-rank mana capacity." Damien said proudly. "E-rank magic control. Which means I was handed E-rank spells. Not tokens. Not promises. Actual power."

He smiled coldly, eyes narrowing on Noah.

"You’ll never even be able to touch me."

Noah coughed once, dragging air into his lungs, then let out a low chuckle.

He wiped blood from his lip and glanced up at Damien.

"You’re really this desperate?" He said. "Can’t afford a B-rank spell of your own?"

Damien’s grin flickered on his face.

His jaw tightened. "It’s not about the token."

Noah pushed one knee under himself, starting to rise.

"Of course not," he said. "It never is."

Damien’s eyes darkened.

"It’s about principle." He snapped. "About order. A weak, lowborn insect like you doesn’t deserve a B-rank spell. It’s wasted on you."

He gestured at the struggling crowd behind him. "You’re nothing. A shadow on this academy’s name. That token should go to someone who’s earned it. Someone who belongs here."

Noah managed to stand, though barely. His muscles ached, and the world still tilted slightly.

He grinned through the pain. "That’s a pretty lie," he said. "A fancy way to dress up what you are."

He looked Damien in the eyes.

"You’re not here for principle. You’re not here for justice."

He took a step forward.

"You’re just a thief."

The crowd behind Damien fell silent.

Damien’s nostrils flared. His hand snapped upward, the spell formation lighting up again with vicious speed.

The wind exploded from his palm once more.

This time, Noah didn’t even get the chance to brace.

The blast struck him square in the chest, lifting him off his feet again. His back hit the ground hard, and he slid across the cold stone, landing in a crumpled heap near the far wall.

His vision pulsed red at the edges. His breath wheezed out of him. His arms trembled as he tried to push himself up.

Damien lowered his hand slowly.

He wasn’t smiling anymore.

This time, he was furious.

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