Reborn As Noble

Armand Region – Border Wall Frontline

The heavy sound of Pekko claws hitting stone echoed along the paved path toward the main stronghold gate.

Soldiers turned quickly, saluting at once when they saw the large figure in golden armor coming down from the lead mount.

”General Hesbeirn!” the captain at the guard post shouted, saluting with his fist over his chest.

Hesbeirn made his Pekko stop, the big bird squawked as it stomped once. Its head was covered with reinforced armor and had symbols of the Armand Emblem.

Behind him, a dozen elite riders in black armor followed silently without a word.

The general slid off his Pekko smoothly, his huge sword sheathed across his back. As he stepped forward, his armor made faint clinking sounds, and his sharp eyes scanned the tense soldiers and the defensive systems humming around them.

The air still buzzed with mana from the last attack wave.

He moved toward the central lookout platform where the command relay was located.

”What’s the situation, Captain Solacks?” Hesbeirn asked calmly but with authority.

Shaken, the captain stepped forward and saluted again.

”General—our unit tried to help the young master’s knights during the last barrage, but...”

He hesitated.

”But what?” Hesbeirn prompted.

Solacks looked away briefly, showing a flicker of shame.

”The knights pushed our men back. They blocked the stairs. There was... a voice told us not to interfere. To avoid unnecessary risks.”

Hesbeirn paused briefly.

”A voice,” he repeated softly.

He exhaled, closed his eyes for a moment, then shook his head with a faint smirk.

”That’s the young master’s defense protocol. You did the right thing by stepping back, Captain. His system is layered. It’s autonomous.”

Solacks blinked.

”You... you understand what that voice was, sir?” he asked.

”I do. And so do Alf and Lady Erinnette.” Hesbeirn’s tone was quiet but firm.

”It’s not a defense system meant to ask for backup. It’s meant to buy time for us to respond.”

Before the captain could reply, the air suddenly flickered above them.

A sharp whistle cut through the sky.

One of the dark fireballs slipped past the automated intercept line.

”INCOMING!!” shouted the guards.

They raised shields, and flickered alarm runes along the ramparts.

But Hesbeirn didn’t flinch.

He rolled his shoulders, reached behind him, and grabbed the handle of the massive sword strapped to his back. The blade glowed faintly with a crimson enchantment, with heavy mana engravings running down its spine.

”General?” Solacks called again.

Hesbeirn’s face was calm, almost amused.

”Take cover,” he said simply.

Then, he stepped forward and leapt.

His jump cracked the stone platform beneath him.

He soared into the sky like a missile, his cape trailing behind him, and swung his greatsword in a wide arc just as the fireball came down.

A thunderous boom shook the air.

The fireball split in midair, releasing a blinding wave of light and then dissolving into harmless motes before the fragments could land.

Soldiers stared, eyes wide with surprise.

Moments later, the general landed crouching, his blade stuck halfway into the stone ground. Dust kicked up around him.

Without looking up, he spoke.

”Stay alert. That won’t be the last one.”

He pulled his sword free and stood, now staring toward the distant horizon.

”And tell all forward units—Javier’s defenses will hold... until the real battle begins.”

Hesbeirn stepped forward slowly, his boots clicking against the stone as he moved toward the stairway leading up to the battlements.

Above him, the sound of mana rifles firing pulsed like a low drumbeat, precise, calculated, relentless.

The Mithril Puppet Knights had already taken positions along the upper parapets, holding what looked like sleek mana rifles, shiny, rune-inscribed weapons that fired concentrated bursts of magical energy. Each shot was synchronized with the anti-air mana turrets along the border wall.

He looked up, narrowing his eyes with a faint admiration as a squad of puppet units locked their weapons in place and fired in unison. A volley of glowing blue bolts streaked across the sky, intercepting incoming dark fireballs before they could reach their targets.

...Definitely Javier’s work.

But his way forward was blocked.

Two Mithril Puppet Knights stood at the bottom of the stairway. Their tower shields were retracted, rifles slung across their backs, but they didn’t move, like two statues of metal and magic.

As Hesbeirn approached, the faint glow in their eyes shifted.

A synchronized voice echoed from both:

[IDENTITY CONFIRMED: GENERAL HESBEIRN]

[DEFENSIVE MEASURE PROTOCOL ACTIVE: ACCESS RESTRICTED]

{FOR YOUR SAFETY, PLEASE DO NOT PASS THESE STAIRS.}

Hesbeirn halted a few steps short.

He tilted his head slightly, a smirk tugging at his lips.

”Hey, guys. Relax. I’m not here to fight.” He raised one hand casually. ”Just here to check out the attack pattern.”

There was a moment of silence.

The puppet knights stayed still for a heartbeat, then their eyes flickered again, processing.

[PROCESSING...]

[COMMAND CONFIRMATION IN PROGRESS...]

[ACCESSING DATA...]

[SECURITY LEVEL MATCH: MASTER (JAVIER) – AUTHORIZATION: CONDITIONAL OVERRIDE GRANTED]

[ACCESS GRANTED: LIMITED INSPECTION PROTOCOL ENABLED]

[PLEASE PROCEED, GENERAL HESBEIRN.]

The two puppet knights moved in perfect sync, stepping aside as if they were ceremonial guards.

Hesbeirn nodded once in thanks and stepped between them.

”Even his damn puppets follow procedure better than some real soldiers,”

Climbing the stone stairs, he reached the upper level and found himself amidst the fully deployed defenses.

Rows of Mithril Puppets crouched behind reinforced firing platforms, their weapons glowing faintly as they tracked aerial and ground targets.

Some of the puppets operated small linked turrets built directly into the battlements, clearly automated systems Javier embedded into the walls. All synchronized. All calculating. All efficient.

Hesbeirn watched silently as another dark flame sphere was caught mid-flight and shattered by a coordinated burst of firepower.

Then his eyes shifted toward the far horizon, narrowing.

”...So this is what he’s built. A wall that fights back, thinks, and adjusts.”

Hesbeirn’s boots halted at the edge of the upper wall.

His gaze lifted to the sky.

Barrage after barrage of dark fireballs rained down like a cursed meteor shower, each one howling with compressed mana and distorted corruption. Their trajectory was unpredictable, jagged, swerving mid-air like living projectiles. The kind of attack meant to overwhelm, not penetrate.

But they didn’t make it far.

The upper wall roared to life.

Javier’s anti-air mana guns rotated with deadly precision, locking targets the moment they crossed the detection field. Turrets hummed, glowing blue sigils rippling across their barrels. With a mechanical hiss, each one fired in sequence—an overlapping net of counter-fire.

Midair detonations painted the sky in rapid bursts of blue and black.

The noise was deafening, yet organized.

But what truly caught Hesbeirn’s attention was the coordination.

All across the top of the wall, the Mithril Puppet Knights stood shoulder to shoulder, forming a near-perfect firing line. Dozens of them held long, smooth rifles powered by mana cores embedded along the barrel. Each puppet braced itself after every shot, recalibrating and adjusting angles based on impact analysis.

Precision.

Efficiency.

But that wasn’t what made Hesbeirn’s brow raise slightly.

Behind every rifle-bearing knight stood a second one.

They weren’t firing.

They simply stood at attention, weapon ready, watching the exact motion of the knight in front of them—as if waiting for the moment to rotate in and take their place.

A dual-unit system?

( End Of Chapter )