Summoned a Hero But Got a Villain Instead-Chapter 107: The Princess and the Predator

One month had changed everything.

The Aegis of the Fallen had risen from concept to reality with terrifying speed. Branch offices now stood in every major capital. Each bore the guild's symbol: a broken shield with wings.

The funding had come exactly as demanded. Royal treasuries opened. Merchant guilds invested. Two hundred and seventeen members now—staff, administrators, and adventurers taking contracts from escort missions to monster extermination.

Masha ran it all. Her tactical mind managed contracts, personnel, finances. She was perfect for it.

Which meant Dante could hunt.

For thirty days, he'd moved across the continent like a plague. Every major threat. Every monster nest. Every bandit camp.

He'd killed them all. And every corpse became a soldier.

His necromantic army had tripled to nearly two hundred summons. Each kill made him stronger.

The continent whispered his name with fear once reserved for gods.

---

The Elven Kingdom's dungeon stank of blood and rot.

Dante found the massacre around a corner. Bodies everywhere. Elven soldiers in shattered ceremonial armor.

In the center, a young woman in royal armor staggered backward. Silver hair matted with blood. Pointed ears. High-born. She clutched her bleeding side.

The yak-beast before her was massive—twelve feet of nightmare muscle. Its hide like stone. Horns curving from its head. Rot magic had exposed muscle that looked harder than armor.

The princess's failed magic.

The beast raised a boulder-sized fist.

A scarred woman stepped between them. Commander's insignia. Cracked shield. Broken sword.

"RUN, PRINCESS!" Blood sprayed as she screamed.

CRUNCH. The commander's shield shattered. She held. Barely.

The princess turned. Ran into the spider dropping from the ceiling.

Eight legs. Needle-points. Mandibles dripping venom.

She froze.

The spider's leg thrust forward—

—and stopped.

The yak was falling. A sword protruded from its forehead. Black blade. Dead.

The princess turned back to the spider. Watched someone's fist punch through its thorax from behind.

Green ichor exploded, drenching her.

The spider collapsed.

Behind it stood a young man. Silver hair. Black coat. Calm.

"Who are you?" she gasped.

He walked past her, toward the yak's corpse. "A poor soul who got stuck and dragged into this quest."

He grabbed his sword's hilt, planted a boot on the dead beast's head, and pulled. The blade came free with a wet sound.

She stared at him. At the casual way he moved. At how he'd killed two monsters that had slaughtered her entire guard without even breathing hard.

"You're... you're with the Aegis of the Fallen?"

"Yup." He was wiping his sword clean on the yak's hide. Like this was Tuesday.

Behind him, the commander groaned. Still alive. Barely.

Dante glanced at her. Made a gesture. Shadows coalesced. Eric appeared, hollow eyes glowing faintly, and knelt beside the dying woman. His spectral touch was cold but gentle as he stabilized her wounds.

The princess watched in shock. Necromancy. Healing necromancy. That shouldn't be possible.

"Thank you," she managed. "You saved my life. I am in your debt."

Dante shrugged. "Just doing my job. Though I have to ask—" He looked at her properly now. Taking in the ceremonial armor. The silver circlet tangled in her bloodied hair. The way she carried herself despite the fear. "—who are you? You look like nobility."

She straightened despite her wounds. Pride won over pain.

"I am Princess Althea Sylthara. Daughter of Queen Elara."

"Ah. That explains the terrible decision-making."

She blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Coming into an active dungeon with a ceremonial guard." He gestured at the corpses. "These were parade soldiers, not dungeon fighters. What were you thinking?"

Her face flushed with anger and shame. "The villagers begged for help. This dungeon has been spawning monsters for weeks. Powerful ones. Evolved variants. I promised them I would solve it."

"And how's that working out?"

"Not well."

Dante nodded. "So what's actually going on?"

Althea's expression became serious. "My mages believe there's an anomaly at the dungeon's core. Something channeling massive energy into the dungeon heart. That's creating these enhanced creatures."

"Someone's feeding the dungeon. Interesting."

"I need to reach the core. The villagers are counting on me."

"No. You're going back. I'll handle this."

"I can't! I gave them my word!"

"You're out of mana, wounded, and your guard is dead. You'll just get in the way."

They stared at each other.

Finally, she spoke quietly. "If you solve this... will you tell them I ran? That I failed?"

Dante considered this. "No. I'll say you were instrumental in identifying the threat. Just don't take credit you didn't earn."

Relief and shame warred on her face. "More generous than I deserve."

"Probably." He turned. "Now go back—"

"No."

He stopped. "What?"

"I'm coming with you. I promised those villagers. And with you here, we have a chance."

They glared at each other. 𝕗𝚛𝚎𝚎𝐰𝗲𝗯𝗻𝚘𝚟𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝕞

"Fine," Dante said finally. "Stay behind me. Don't cast. Don't engage. Just walk. Agreed?"

"Agreed."

"And don't take my credit."

"I won't!"

"Let's go deeper."

"Wait. I need to rest. My mana is depleted. I can barely alk."

"Just follow me."

She cursed in Elvish and hurried after him.

"By the way," she called, catching up, "you seem very confident. Who exactly are you? And wait—why did you come alone? Shouldn't the guild send teams for high-threat contracts?"

Dante smiled. He'd sensed them approaching. A pack of dungeon creatures. Drawn by the scent of blood and living prey.

"Who said I came alone?"

The shadows moved.

Eric materialized first. Shield raised. Hollow eyes burning with cold fire.

Then Rina's spectral form. Floating. Beautiful and terrible.

Kael appeared, his corrupted body twitching with unnatural speed.

The Minotaurs emerged from darkness, obsidian giants with glowing red eyes.

Shadow Spiders descended from the ceiling, legs clicking on stone.

Derek strode forward, former hero now undead champion.

Lucien with his blood-sword. Lucaris with his bare fists. Veyrion in his humanoid form, S-rank power radiating.

One after another. Thirty. Fifty. A hundred.

An army of the dead forming around them. Creating a protective perimeter. A wall of corpses and monsters that obeyed one master.

Althea's face went white. Then understanding dawned. Horror and awe mixing.

"You're..." Her voice was barely a whisper. "You're him. The Necromancer. Dante."

The name that had spread across the continent. The hero who'd humiliated King Rowen. Who'd founded the Aegis of the Fallen. Who commanded an army of the dead.

The one everyone feared.

"Yup." Dante said it casually. Like admitting he preferred coffee over tea.

Outside their protective circle, the dungeon monsters arrived. Claws. Fangs. Venom. Fury.

They hit the wall of undead like waves against a cliff.

And broke.

The sounds were horrific. Tearing. Crunching. Screaming. But Althea couldn't see what was happening. The wall of summons was too dense. She could only hear. Could only imagine.

Could only know that whatever was out there was being systematically destroyed.

They walked deeper into the dungeon. The summons moved with them. Seamless. Coordinated. A mobile fortress of death.

Althea followed in stunned silence for several minutes.

Then, hesitantly: "I heard... stories. About you. About what happened in Verlaine."

"Probably exaggerated."

"They said you made the king piss himself."

"That part's true."

Despite everything, she almost smiled. "They said you're cruel. Ruthless. That you kill without mercy."

"Also true."

"But you saved me. You're letting me come with you. You even healed my commander."

"I'm complicated."

She studied his profile as they walked. "You're not what I expected."

"Good. Expectations make you predictable."

"The stories made you sound like a monster."

"I am." He said it matter-of-factly. "I'm just a polite monster."

They walked in silence again. The sounds of slaughter faded behind them. New screams started ahead. The summons clearing the path.

"Why did you really let me come?" Althea asked quietly.

"Because you would've followed anyway. At least this way I can keep you from doing something stupid."

"That's... surprisingly considerate."

"Don't get used to it."

More walking. The dungeon was growing colder. Darker. The corruption stronger.

"Can I ask you something?" Althea's voice was careful. "Your summons. The ones that look human. Were they..."

"Heroes. Adventurers. Soldiers. Yes."

"Did you kill them?"

"Some. Some were already dead when I found them."

"Doesn't it bother you? Using people like tools?"

Dante was quiet for a moment. Then: "They're dead. They don't care. And I give them purpose. Protection. Direction. That's more than most people get in life."

"That's a dark philosophy."

"I'm a dark person."

But there was no cruelty in his voice. No malice. Just statement of fact.

Althea found herself relaxing despite everything. The stories had painted him as a tyrant. A monster who reveled in death.

But the man walking beside her seemed... tired. Pragmatic. Honest in a way that most nobles never were.

"We're getting close," Dante said suddenly. "The mana density is increasing. Core room is ahead."

The tunnel opened into a massive chamber. Cathedral-like. The ceiling lost in darkness above. The walls were living wood, pulsing with corrupt energy.

And in the center, floating above a pillar of twisted roots, was the dungeon core.

A sphere of crystallized mana. Pulsing. Throbbing. Wrong.

And sitting cross-legged before it, bathed in its sickly light, was a figure.

Male. Pale skin. Dark hair. Eyes closed in meditation.

But Althea could see the fangs. The unnatural stillness. The aura of ancient hunger.

"A vampire," she breathed.

Dante's expression didn't change. But his hand moved to his sword.

"Not just any vampire." His voice was cold now. Focused. "That's powerful. Really powerful."

The vampire's eyes opened.