My Hero Academia: Where dragons fly

Devour, until nothing is left.



Chapter 8

Year 2151, March 11 (No PoV)

It was a sunny day, but puddles of water still lingered from the rain the day before.

Malthael and Momo sat together in a small café, discussing the future. They talked about many things, their conversation easy and friendly.

Momo shared her dream of becoming a hero—helping people and joining U.A. Malthael, in turn, confessed his own ambitions of becoming a hero and his plans to attend U.A. as well.

Surprised, Momo’s eyes widened:"You plan on becoming a hero too? That's great!"

Sensing her enthusiasm for heroes, Malthael continued:"Yeah, I've wanted to join U.A. since I was four, ever since my quirk awakened. It felt like my power was almost built for being a hero. What about you? Why do you want to be a hero?"

Momo clenched her fists with determination:"I want to help people and make friends. Nothing fancy. What about you?"

Fighting the urge to blurt out, "Because all heroes are hot", Malthael instead offered another reason:"Well, my grandfather was one of the greatest heroes of his time, so I want to be like him." Getting lost in memories of the countless videos he had watched of his grandfather, he continued:"I want to be there when people are scared, to shield them with my wings, to protect them when all hope seems lost—just like my grandfather did."

Momo clapped her hands together in excitement:"That's amazing! Let's strive to be great heroes together, like your grandfather."

Malthael chuckled and nodded, and they continued talking for hours. They discussed Malthael working on his motorcycle license and Momo’s thoughts about U.A. Eventually, it was time to say goodbye.

As Malthael walked home, he reflected on Momo's words:"Let's strive together... Yeah, that sounds great. Let's do that."

And so, time went on.

Year 2151, October 13 (Malthael PoV)

It was raining—not heavily, but steadily.

I was riding the newest motorcycle from StahlBlut. A beauty and a beast. The wind whipped past me as I listened to music, feeling the energy of the day. Thirsty, I pulled into a convenience store, bought a coffee and water, and thanked the clerk without much fuss.

After moving my bike to a dry spot, I sat down, sipping my coffee and letting my mind wander. The day was nice so far, though still early. I couldn’t shake the feeling that today would be special.

Glancing down, I caught my reflection in a puddle. I was confident my body had finally reached full growth. I stood at exactly 1.95 meters, 10 centimeters taller than in my previous life. My wings had grown, too, with a span of 6 meters. My tail had lengthened, now 2 meters, with more vicious spikes, though it wasn’t as thick or strong as Ojiro’s. I couldn’t propel myself with it, but it provided balance and speed and the blade at the end could cut steel.

I heard children’s voices and looked up. Across the street, a group of kids was walking toward a kindergarten. They reminded me of my little brother, who was about the same age. I smiled at the thought.

Suddenly, I sensed a presence nearby. Turning, I saw a small boy standing next to me, staring up with wide eyes. His most striking feature was his iron jaw.

"Are you a hero?" he asked.

Surprised, I replied:"No, but I will be one day."

The boy’s eyes lit up as if his greatest wish had just been granted:"Then... will I be a hero too?"

I nodded, smiling:"Yes, I believe you will be a great hero. But even great heroes have to go to kindergarten. How about I help you cross the road?"

The boy glanced across the street, seeing his teacher waiting for him:"Yes, I should go... but how will you get me across?"

Laughing, I spread my wings:"Like this." I gently lifted him and, with one swift motion, flew him across the street.

The teacher thanked me, and the boy waved as I returned to my bike. I sat there, enjoying my coffee, watching the clouds darken overhead. Every now and then, I glanced back at the kindergarten, smiling.

Then, I caught a scent. Something strange, unfamiliar. My eyes followed the scent to a man standing a few buildings down. He wore a costume with a mask and two swords on his back. Crows surrounded him, drawn to him like a magnet. I assumed he was a lower-class hero.

The caw of a crow caught my attention. More had gathered on a streetlight nearby.

I couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling. Something was off. Then, in an instant, the man vanished in a flurry of crows.

I tried to brush off the strange encounter and focus on the day, but as I turned back to my bike, I noticed something in the corner of my eye. A group of crows, carrying packages, flew toward the kindergarten. My heart raced as I caught the scent of gunpowder coming from every package.

I barely had time to react before I was blasted against a concrete wall, the force knocking the wind out of me.

Dazed, I shook my head, trying to make sense of what had happened. My vision cleared, and horror filled my chest. The kindergarten lay in ruins, flames and smoke rising from the debris. I sprinted toward the wreckage, desperately searching for survivors. What I found made my stomach churn.

Before me were the burnt bodies of children, small and fragile. Among them, a boy with an iron jaw.

His words echoed in my mind: "Then, will I be a hero too?"

I collapsed to my hands and knees, vomiting and screaming, my mind replaying the innocent conversation we had shared only minutes before. The boy had reminded me of my brother, and now he was gone.

Through the haze of grief and rage, I remembered him—the man with the crows. The crows had dropped the packages.

I forced myself to stand, one thought driving me:"Find him."

I took a deep breath, trying to catch the scent. Amidst the smoke, fire, and ash, there it was—the distinct smell. I crouched low, gathering all my strength in my legs, and launched into the air.

My wings unfolded to their full span as I soared through the city, flying faster than I ever had. It didn’t take long to find what I was looking for—a murder of crows in a nearby alley.

-Villain PoV

It was just another day. I got hired to kill a politician’s kid, found the target, and blew up the kindergarten. Didn't think much of it. So why am I now faced with this creature?

I had ducked into an alley, hoping to lay low for a while, when something dropped in front of me. As it landed, I realized it was the guy I saw standing by the kindergarten earlier. Only now, he looked far less human. His wings loomed large, casting shadows that blotted out the sky. His tail was pointed directly at me, and his breathing was ragged—flames and ash-like particles escaping with each exhale. There was something different about him, an aura that made my skin crawl. I didn’t know why, but I felt... dread. Fear. He seemed bigger than before, more menacing, like a monster.

A deep, raspy voice broke the tension:"Why?"

Confused, I blurted out something else:"What? What do you mean, why?"

The figure in front of me spoke again, his voice harsher this time:"Why. Why did you d— No. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that you will pay for your crimes."

Sensing the danger, I instinctively stepped back—just in time to see the ground where I had been standing get shredded by his tail.

I had no choice now. I readied myself for a fight.

- Malthael PoV

Originally, I planned to capture him. But rage blinded me. The voices of my little brother and the boy from earlier echoed in my ears. I knew my brother was safe, but I couldn’t shake the image of him among the burnt corpses. I lost myself.

After he dodged my tail, I charged at him, and he unsheathed two short katanas. I didn’t have a strategy—I just wanted to erase this scum from existence, someone who didn’t even acknowledge what he had done. I had never hated anyone before, but this was a first. It was a burning, consuming desire. A desire I would fulfill, no matter the cost.

Those thoughts raced through my mind as I attacked. He, however, dodged and parried every move. A swipe of my claws? Redirected. A tail swing? Evaded. But I didn’t care. I had stamina for days, rage for weeks. I would get him eventually.

Then he spoke:“Oh, is this about the kindergarten? That was light work. I’ve done bigger and badder jobs. No one’s ever caught me before. Surprised you even found me.”

Hearing those words, I snapped. I opened my jaw, unleashing a torrent of fire. Everything in front of me vanished in a wave of flames. But then, I felt a sharp clang against my tail. He had somehow slipped behind me, attempting to cut through it. Thank God for my scales. Realizing their hardness, he shifted tactics, and suddenly I felt a stab in my back. I turned to see a crow clawing at me. Instinctively, I crushed it with my hand.

He laughed:“I wanted to take you apart slowly, but it looks like that won’t be possible. Sorry, kid, but I gotta get my paycheck.”

His demeanor shifted. His posture sharpened, and in an instant, I was swarmed by crows. They tore at me, aiming for my flesh. The pain was intense, but my goal was larger than the pain. I breathed fire again, burning most of the birds, but then his blade came at me once more. I barely dodged, but not entirely.

A sharp pain sliced across my nose—a horizontal gash from the outer corner of my left eye to my right. Blood poured out, blinding me. But there was no time to focus on it. More crows swarmed, targeting my eyes. I dodged, but again, not perfectly. A vertical cut slashed over my left eye, crossing with the first wound, forming a bloody cross on my face. I didn’t know if my eye was still intact—I couldn’t see out of it through the blood.

Desperation set in. I released a cloud of ash, but when it touched my wounds, they burned even more intensely. I was losing. My goal shifted from defeating him to surviving.

I prepared another flame breath, ready to strike, but none of my attacks connected. In a last-ditch effort, I activated my draconic vision, searching for a weakness. There it was—his right knee. I wasn’t sure how to exploit it, but I tested him. I swung my tail low, forcing him to jump. It gave me an idea.

I launched another barrage of attacks, and again, I swung my tail low. He jumped, just as I anticipated, and I rushed forward, grabbing his ankle. He reacted quickly, swinging his sword at my wrist, but the blade bounced harmlessly off my scales.

He pleaded:“Wait—” but I didn’t listen. Rage consumed me once more. With his ankle in my grip, I smashed him against the alley walls, his shoulder cracking on impact. I didn’t stop. I flung him into the ground, into trash bins—anything I could find. His crows attempted to intervene but fled as I slammed him into the pavement with full force. His head hit the ground, and a sickening crack echoed in the alley.

He went limp. His life left his body, and with it, my rage.

As the adrenaline faded, I thought of walking away to heal my wounds, but that smell hit my nose again. It came from the corpse. It smelled strange—no, it smelled delicious.

My body moved on its own. I walked toward the body, and my jaw began to stretch unnaturally wide, up to the hinge, with teeth growing out of my cheeks. With this grotesque maw, I started eating him. I didn’t even know his name, but I knew he deserved death. Yet the act of killing him made me want to vomit. But my body didn’t listen. I was trapped inside it as I devoured every piece of him, bones crunching between my teeth, muscle tearing apart. It was sickening, but I couldn’t stop.

When it was over, I sat there, trying to vomit, but I couldn’t. I was drowning in a storm of emotions—wanting to cry, scream, punch something, anything. But I couldn’t do any of it. My body just sat there, motionless.

Then pain hit me—pain I hadn’t felt since I turned four. My body was changing. But unlike before, only my wings were affected. I turned to see them, watching as the lower halves of each of my wings transformed from scales to feathers. Pitch black, like my scales.

Confusion overwhelmed me, but as if to answer, a message appeared in front of my eyes:

"I greet thee once more, O Primordial Dragon. Thou hast consumed the very one who held dominion o’er the crows. In the feasting, thou didst feel a fervor most righteous, vengeance shared with thy kin, akin to the crows themselves. Thus, thou hast been named Crowfather, and unto thee the reins of the crows hath been bestowed"

Remembering the power of Primordial Hunger, I realized what had happened.

I couldn't care less, though; I was bleeding heavily from the wounds I had received on both my face and body. I got up and tried to fly, only to crash down again after a few weak flaps:"This is bad. I'm too low on blood and energy to fly. I gotta hurry, or else..."

So I began to walk, grateful that the main street wasn't far. In the distance, I could see smoke rising, accompanied by the wail of sirens. As I trudged toward it, a policeman spotted me and rushed over:"Sir, how did this happen? You need immediate medical attention."

While he called for help, I told the best lie I could think of"I ran into a strange individual—someone who controlled crows. When I saw him, he attacked me. I barely managed to fight him off, and then he turned into a murder of crows and disappeared."

I thought to myself:"Better not tell them I went vigilante, fought a villain, killed him, and ate him."

The policeman jotted down everything I said. But before anything else could happen, my vision went dark.

No PoV

It was a hospital room. Malthael lay there, his expression bland as he stared at the detectives in his room:"Look, I'm happy to see you, but I just woke up."

One of them spoke:"I promise we'll be quick. I'm Detective Naomasa. From what I've heard, you encountered the villain Crowbane. Can you tell me where he went after your fight?"

Sighing, knowing he couldn't escape this situation, he replied:"Like I already said, I found him. He attacked me, we battled for a bit, and after holding out long enough, he decided to flee. He turned into a murder of crows and flew in all directions."

Detective Naomasa wrote everything down, then bowed slightly:"Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Krone. Have a great day and a smooth recovery."

With that, he left along with his colleagues.

When they exited, someone else entered with a deadpan expression: Victor Aldrich:"Fucking detectives. You need to sleep, not answer questions. Anyway, how are you feeling?"

"Well, my face is on fire, and my back hurts pretty bad."

Victor nodded:"I'm sorry to say this, but the wounds on your face will scar—really bad. The ash you got in there isn’t helping at all. We could only stop the bleeding but couldn’t stitch it because that would have trapped the ash in your body, leading to infection. Also, please tell me what really happened. I know you, and I can tell when you lie."

Sighing, Malthael retold the entire story, from arriving at the store to meeting the policeman. Hearing all this, Victor turned pale:"You ate him? And gained his power? That’s something nobody should know. I'm sorry you had to go through this. No sixteen-year-old should."

Smiling, albeit a bit hollow, Malthael said:"It's alright, Uncle. I don’t regret my choices. But if you don’t mind, I want to get some shut-eye."

Understanding, Victor nodded and left the room.

Afterward, Malthael lay there, observing the crows outside his window until he fell asleep.


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