Re-Awakened :I Ascend as an SSS-Ranked Dragon Summoner

The rest of Noah’s shift passed with him wiping tables and serving drinks. The dragon knights—because that’s what everyone kept calling them—stayed for another hour, their voices carrying across the tavern as they laughed and told stories about previous hunts.

Noah kept his distance, cleaning tables on the opposite side of the room, but his ears tracked every word.

”—remember when Egor took down that wyvern in the western valley?” one of them was saying. ”Thing was the size of a house and he just walked up to it like he was taking a stroll!”

”That’s because our captain’s insane,” another replied, grinning. ”Fearless bastard. That’s why we follow him.”

”Fearless and smart,” a third added. ”He knows dragon behavior better than anyone. That’s why the kingdom pays us triple what regular knights make.”

’Dragon knights,’ Noah thought, filing the information away. ’They’re specialists. That’s why they get the praise and respect. They hunt dragons specifically while regular knights handle other threats.’

One of the men noticed Noah cleaning a nearby table and nudged his companion.

”Oi, look. It’s the coward’s son.”

The conversation at the table died down as several of them turned to look at Noah.

”That’s Burt, isn’t it?” another said, his voice carrying mock sympathy. ”Poor lad. Must be hard living with that legacy.”

Noah kept wiping the table, his jaw tight, refusing to give them the satisfaction of a reaction.

”You know what his father did, right?” the first man continued, raising his voice deliberately so the entire tavern could hear. ”Aldric the Brave, they used to call him. One of the finest knights in the kingdom. Until the day he showed everyone what he really was.”

’Aldric,’ Noah thought, his hand stilling briefly on the table. ’My supposed father’s name was Aldric.’

”There was a dragon attack,” the man went on, clearly enjoying himself. ”On the outskirts, near the farming settlements. A pregnant woman was caught in the open, begging for help. And brave Aldric? He dropped his sword and ran.”

Laughter rippled through the tavern. Not just from the dragon knights’ table, but from other customers who’d stopped their conversations to listen.

”Witnesses said he was screaming like a child,” another dragon knight added. ”Ran maybe two hundred feet before the dragon caught him anyway. Burned him to ash. Didn’t even have the dignity to die fighting.”

More laughter. Cruel, mocking laughter that made Noah’s hands clench around the rag.

”So now we’ve got his son,” the first man said, gesturing at Noah with his mug. ”Scum’s blood runs true, they say. Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Wonder if he’ll run when the dragons come too?”

Noah forced himself to keep moving, to keep cleaning, to not look at them. Every instinct he’d developed from months of combat training screamed at him to respond, to defend himself, to make them regret their words.

But this wasn’t his fight. This was Burt’s life, Burt’s shame, and Noah was just living it temporarily.

His eyes flicked briefly to Egor at the head of the table.

The captain of the dragon knights sat quietly, nursing his ale, not participating in the mockery. But he wasn’t stopping it either. Just watching with an expression that gave nothing away, like Noah’s humiliation was mildly interesting but ultimately unimportant.

’He doesn’t care,’ Noah realized. ’One way or another. Doesn’t care enough to join in, doesn’t care enough to stop it. I’m beneath his notice.’

”Alright, enough,” one of the dragon knights finally said, though his tone suggested he was bored rather than sympathetic. ”Let the boy work. We’ve got better things to do anyway.”

”Right,” another agreed, standing and stretching. ”I’m heading to Mistress Lara’s. Got a few hours before we need to move, might as well enjoy them properly.”

”The Red Lantern for me,” a third said, grinning. ”Their girls know how to treat a man right.”

The group began standing, draining the last of their ale, preparing to leave. They moved with the easy confidence of men who knew they were valued, who knew they were important, who knew they could walk into any establishment in the kingdom and be welcomed.

Egor stood last, his movements unhurried. He placed several coins on the table—more than enough to cover their tab—and walked toward the door without looking at Noah.

”Don’t get too comfortable tonight, boys,” Egor said as they reached the entrance. ”We move at midnight. Red one or not, we’re hunting until we find something worth killing.”

The others voiced their agreement, and then they were gone, their voices fading as they walked up the street toward whatever brothels they’d chosen for the afternoon.

Noah stood there, rag in hand, staring at the door they’d left through.

’Midnight,’ he thought. ’They’re moving at midnight. Which means I have maybe eight hours to figure out what I’m doing.’

”Boy!”

Master Grayson’s voice cut through Noah’s thoughts. The tavern owner was standing behind the bar, counting coins.

”Your shift’s done. Come get your pay.”

Noah walked to the bar, set the rag and bucket down.

Grayson placed three copper coins on the bar top, his expression sour.

”Three coppers. That’s what a day’s work gets you. Don’t spend it all in one place.”

Noah reached for the coins. Grayson’s hand shot out, catching his wrist.

”And boy? Don’t think working here makes you respectable. You’re still scum. Still the coward’s son. I gave you this job because labor’s cheap when nobody else wants you, understand? So don’t go getting ideas about being worth something.”

Noah met his eyes, said nothing, just waited until Grayson released his wrist.

He pocketed the coins, turned, and walked out of the tavern into afternoon sunlight.

The street was busy with people finishing their daily business before evening set in. Vendors were packing up their wares from market stalls. Children ran between buildings, playing games Noah didn’t recognize. Women carried baskets of vegetables or bread, heading home to prepare dinner.

’I’ve got time,’ Noah thought, looking around. ’Might as well see what this kingdom actually is. Figure out what kind of place I’m stuck in.’

He started walking, no particular destination in mind, just observing.

The kingdom was larger than he’d initially thought. The main street that led from the lower town up to the castle was maybe half a mile long, with dozens of side streets branching off in organic patterns that proved his earlier theory right, this was centuries of gradual expansion. Buildings varied in size and quality—some were well-maintained stone structures that probably belonged to merchants or minor nobles, others were simple wood and thatch affairs that housed laborers and craftsmen.

Noah passed a blacksmith’s shop, heard the ring of hammer on anvil, saw sparks flying as someone worked metal over a forge. A bakery filled the air with the smell of fresh bread. A fletcher was stringing bows in an open-front workshop.

And knights. Dozens of them, wearing various types of armor, moving through the streets with purpose. Most wore simple chainmail and carried swords at their belts. They seemed to be regular garrison soldiers, the kind who maintained order and defended the walls.

’But the dragon knights are different,’ Noah observed, watching a pair of regular knights walk past without drawing any special attention. ’Egor’s group got cheers, free drinks, respect from everyone. Which means dragon knights are elite. Specialists who’ve proven themselves against threats that regular soldiers can’t handle.’

He kept walking, turning down side streets, exploring neighborhoods that ranged from prosperous to barely functional.

Near the market district, Noah found himself on a street lined with buildings that had red lanterns hanging outside their doors. Women stood in doorways or leaned from windows, calling out to passing men with offers that were anything but subtle.

’The brothels,’ Noah realized, understanding why this street existed. ’Where the dragon knights said they were going.’

As if summoned by the thought, Noah saw them.

Three of the dragon knights from earlier were entering a building with elaborate red curtains in the windows. They were laughing, pushing each other playfully, clearly already enjoying their afternoon despite not having gone inside yet.

Noah kept walking, not wanting to be seen lingering near the brothels like some curious child.

The street led back toward the main thoroughfare, and Noah followed it, his mind still processing everything he’d observed.

’This kingdom is functional,’ he thought, watching merchants close up shops, guards changing shifts at various posts. ’It’s alive. People are living their lives, working their jobs, raising their families. Which makes Ego’s words even stranger. ”A kingdom long dead.” What happened here? What killed everyone?’

The castle loomed above the town, its towers catching the last of the afternoon sun. From this angle, Noah could see the main gates were open, with guards stationed on either side checking people who entered or left.

’My mother works there,’ Noah remembered. ’Cleaning and laundry for someone named Lady Constance. Which means the castle has nobility, has a functioning court, has all the structures that make a kingdom work.’

He turned away from the castle, heading back toward the lower town where his supposed home waited.

The walk took maybe twenty minutes, the sun sinking lower as he followed the winding path up the hillside. Other families were heading home too, laborers finishing their days, children being called in for dinner.

By the time Noah reached the small stone house, twilight was settling over the hills.

Smoke rose from the chimney, looking like dinner was being prepared. Noah pushed open the wooden door, found Gertrude sitting at the table, and his mother stirring a pot over the fire.

”There you are,” she said, smiling when she saw him. ”How was your first day? Did Master Grayson treat you fairly?”

Noah closed the door behind him, moved to the table, and sat on one of the benches.

”It was fine,” he said, pulling the three copper coins from his pocket and setting them on the table. ”He paid me this.”

His mother’s expression softened, and she left the pot to pick up the coins, examining them like they were precious treasures rather than the minimum possible wage.

”That’s wonderful, Burt. This will help with the flour we need, and maybe we can get Gertrude new shoes. Hers are wearing through.”

Gertrude perked up at the mention of shoes, her eyes going wide.

”Really? New shoes?”

”Maybe,” their mother said, pocketing the coins. ”If your brother keeps working hard and earning.”

She returned to the pot, ladling what looked like vegetable stew into wooden bowls. The meal was simple—mostly potatoes and carrots with small pieces of meat that might have been chicken or rabbit—but it smelled better than the porridge from breakfast.

They ate in comfortable silence for a while, just the sound of spoons against bowls and the crackling fire.

Eventually, Noah’s mother spoke again.

”Were people... kind to you today?”

Noah looked up from his bowl, saw the careful concern in her expression, and understood what she was really asking.

’She knows and she’s hurt,’ Noah thought. ’She knows what people say about her husband, about her son. She’s asking if I was treated badly.’

”They said things,” Noah admitted, because denying it would be worse. ”About father. About what happened.”

His mother’s hands stilled on her spoon, her face going tight.

”I’m sorry, Burt. I wish I could change what people think, but—”

”Was he really a coward?” Noah interrupted, the question coming out before he could stop it.

Gertrude’s head snapped up, her eyes going wide. Their mother looked like she’d been struck.

”The entire town says it,” Noah continued, keeping his voice level. ”They say he dropped his sword and ran. That he died screaming. That he abandoned a pregnant woman to save himself. Is that true?”

The silence stretched for several seconds.

Finally, his mother set her spoon down, her hands folding in her lap.

”Your father was... complicated,” she said carefully. ”He was a good man in many ways. He loved us. He provided for us. But when that dragon came...” She paused, struggling with the words. ”He was afraid. Terrified. And yes, he ran.”

”So it’s true,” Noah said.

”It’s true that he ran,” she agreed. ”But it’s not true that he was a coward his entire life. One moment of fear doesn’t erase everything else he was.”

Gertrude was crying now, quiet tears running down her face.

”Everyone at market says father was a coward,” she said, her voice small. ”They say I’m a coward’s sister. That I’ll probably run too when bad things happen.”

Noah felt something twist in his chest. This little girl, who’d woken him up this morning with such energy, was carrying shame for something that wasn’t her fault.

”Listen to me,” Noah said, his voice firm enough that both Gertrude and his mother looked at him with surprise. ”Father was human. Humans get scared. That’s what we do when we’re faced with things that can kill us. A dragon is a monster, an apex predator, something that can burn you to ash in seconds. Being afraid of that isn’t cowardice. It’s sanity.”

He leaned forward, meeting Gertrude’s eyes directly.

”Father made a choice in a moment of terror. Maybe it was the wrong choice. Maybe if he’d fought, he could have saved that woman. Or maybe he would have died faster and the woman would have died anyway. We don’t know. But what we do know is that being afraid doesn’t make you a coward. Running doesn’t make you scum. It makes you human.”

Noah realized as he was speaking that he was starting to believe it. Starting to believe he actually was Burt, defending a father he’d never met but whose shame he carried anyway.

”Your father loved you both,” their mother said quietly, wiping at her own eyes. ”Whatever else happened, whatever people say, remember that. He loved us.”

Gertrude nodded, still crying but looking slightly less devastated.

They finished dinner in silence after that, each lost in their own thoughts.

Once the bowls were cleared and washed, their mother sent Gertrude to bed despite her protests that it was too early. The little girl eventually complied, disappearing into the room she apparently shared with their mother.

Noah retreated to his own room, closing the door behind him.

He lay on the straw mattress, staring at the ceiling beams, waiting.

Hours passed. The sounds of the house settled—his mother moving around, preparing for her own sleep, the creak of floorboards, the closing of doors. Eventually, silence.

Noah waited longer, counting his breaths, until he was certain everyone was asleep.

Then he stood, moved to the window, and pushed the shutters open silently.

The night air was cold against his face. The moon was up, maybe three-quarters full, casting enough light to see by.

Noah climbed through the window rather than risking the front door. His enhanced agility made the drop to the ground trivial, and he landed without sound.

Then he started running.

Not jogging. Running at full speed, his enhanced stats letting him move faster than any normal human could manage. The landscape blurred around him, hills and grass and scattered trees passing in dark smears.

’The dragon knights said they were going to the brothels,’ Noah thought, his legs eating up distance. ’The Red Lantern was one of the places mentioned. That’s in the market district. If they’re moving at midnight, they’d need to leave from there.’

He reached the town in minutes, his speed carrying him down the hillside and through the outskirts without anyone seeing him. The streets were mostly empty at this hour, just a few drunks stumbling home and guards making rounds.

Noah slowed as he approached the street with the red lanterns, his enhanced perception picking up sounds from the various buildings. Music, laughter, the sounds of business being conducted.

He found a shadow between two buildings and settled in to wait.

The Red Lantern was still lit, its windows glowing with warm light. Noah couldn’t see inside from his position, but he could hear voices, could tell the building was still occupied.

Minutes passed. Maybe thirty, maybe more.

Then the door opened.

The dragon knights emerged in a group, their voices carrying in the quiet night. They were still in their armor, weapons at their belts, moving with the confident swagger of men who’d spent the evening drinking and doing other things Noah didn’t want to think about.

Egor led them, his posture straight despite however much he’d drunk. The others followed, seven men total, all of them heading up the street toward the main road that led out of town.

Noah waited until they’d passed, counted to ten, then followed.

He kept his distance, maybe fifty yards back, using buildings and shadows for cover. His enhanced perception let him track them easily despite the darkness, let him move silently despite the cobblestone streets.

’What am I doing?’ Noah thought, following the group as they left the town proper and started up a path that led into the hills. ’I don’t even know what I’m looking for. What fire am I supposed to extinguish? What does any of this have to do with dragons?’

But he kept following anyway, because it was the only lead he had.

The path wound upward, into forested hills that rose beyond the kingdom’s walls. The dragon knights moved with purpose, clearly familiar with the route, their voices carrying in the night air.

”—think it’ll actually be there?” one was saying.

”Egor says it will be,” another replied. ”That’s good enough for me.”

”Red scales, right? That’s what the reports said?”

”Yeah. Big bastard too, if the livestock kills are accurate. Probably young, maybe twenty or thirty years old. Old enough to be dangerous but not ancient.”

Noah’s mind caught on that. ’Twenty or thirty years old for a dragon is young? How long do they live?’

He kept following, moving from tree to tree, staying far enough back that his footsteps wouldn’t carry.

’The quest said extinguish the flames,’ Noah thought, watching the dragon knights climb higher into the hills. ’And they’re hunting a red dragon. Fire-breathing, presumably. Is that the fire I’m supposed to put out? Am I supposed to kill this dragon? Save it? What?’

No answers came. Just the sound of boots on dirt, the rustle of leaves, and the quiet confidence of men who’d done this before and expected to do it again.

The dragon knights kept climbing, and Noah followed, questions multiplying with every step.