Reborn As Noble

”Chief!” the soldier shouted, panic edging his voice.

The other soldiers who had been laughing moments before now stared, wide-eyed and disbelieving.

”How in the hell did they survive!?”

”Aren’t they human too!?”

”Is it their armor?”

The musketeers and cannon crews scrambled into frantic action, rushing to reload, their hands shaking with a mix of disbelief and terror.

Nothing had touched the Armand soldiers. Only the ground around them was torn and scarred. The earth they stood on was completely untouched, pristine amidst the devastation.

The assistant gritted his jaw. ”Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

”Chief! Are they using a barrier spell!? But I don’t see any mages with them!”

”Stop asking questions and prepare to launch another attack!” the assistant screamed, his voice cracking.

But it was too late.

The Armand formation shifted. One hundred soldiers knelt in perfect unison, planting large, slab-like shields into the ground before them. The shields shimmered with a faint energy field. Behind them, the other hundred soldiers stood, raising long, sleek weapons that hummed with concentrated power.

”Chief...?” a nearby captain whispered.

”What are you waiting for!? Fire at those damn soldiers!!”

[Preparing to return fire.]

A barrage of compressed mana bullets erupted from the Armand line. Screaming streams of blue-white energy that tore through the air with a sound like ripping metal.

The Turka front line simply disintegrated. Magic-reinforced plate armor offered no resistance, tower shields shattered into molten fragments. Soldiers were cut down where they stood, their bodies ripped apart before they could even scream.

The dense formation of magic archers was next. The mana fire swept through their ranks, turning bows, arrows, and men into a fine, bloody mist. The cannons were hit next, the explosive shells still loaded in their barrels detonated in catastrophic chain reactions, engulfing their crews in fireballs.

The assistant stood frozen on the wall, his triumphant smirk replaced by a mask of pure horror as his army was mercilessly erased from the field in seconds.

Screams of panic and death echoed across the field.

The heavy cavalry unit was thrown into chaos as their enchanted horses were struck by the relentless mana fire. Riders were thrown from their saddles, horses collapsed, and the orderly formation dissolved into a panicked scramble.

”Shit!!!” the leader of the heavy cavalry unit shouted, his eyes wide with terror. ”Everyone, fall back to our border! Retreat!!”

The assistant’s eyes widened as he saw the soldiers at the back, the ones who had been laughing moments ago, now turning and running. The magic archers who had survived the initial barrage dropped their bows and fled, their discipline shattered by the sight of their comrades being torn apart in an instant.

”Fuck! Run!!!” the archer leader screamed, abandoning his position and sprinting toward the rear.

The assistant stood frozen on the wall, his mind refusing to process the devastation.

His army, 10,000 strong, armed with the latest weapons, brimming with confidence, was being erased in less than a minute. The air was thick with the smell of ozone, blood, and burnt metal. The ground was littered with bodies, shattered armor, and the smoldering wreckage of cannons.

He watched as the Armand soldiers advanced slowly, their formation unbroken, their crimson eyes glowing steadily through the settling smoke.

The assistant was about to turn and run, but he paused, looking up at the sky when he heard a strange, high-pitched whine growing louder.

Wh... what is that?

He saw them, dozens of glowing projectiles streaking down from the clouds, trailing brilliant blue-white light. They fell with impossible speed, slamming into the ground among the fleeing Turka soldiers.

Explosion after explosion erupted across the field, each blast carving a crater of fire and shrapnel. Soldiers who had been running for their lives were vaporized mid-stride. The shockwaves ripped through the retreating ranks, turning organized flight into a slaughterhouse.

The assistant’s eyes widened, his body beginning to tremble uncontrollably. His knees felt weak, the arrogant confidence of moments ago replaced by a cold, sinking dread that rooted him to the spot.

Is this... the reason why... the captain said not to attack?

Shit... I’m... I’m going to die here.

He watched as the huge transport drone he’d seen earlier now hovered high above, its silhouette dark against the sky. From its underside, more of those terrifying projectiles continued to rain down with mechanical precision, systematically erasing what remained of his army.

All while at some distance, on a high ridge overlooking the battlefield, several Tybalt scouts on horseback watched the scene with eyes wide in disbelief.

”Is Armand here to help Tybalt?”

”But our lord didn’t inform us about this.”

”Yeah, but... with Lady Kayra heading to Armand yesterday, I believe this is their response.”

”Still, I don’t think Lady Kayra could have reached Armand by now in that fishing boat.”

”Yeah, but we also know Armand’s magic-tech is superior and strange, right? Who knows, maybe they already arrived and are in a meeting with our Lord Garzin right now.”

”Maybe... since we don’t know Armand’s real power yet.”

”Yeah... nobody knows for sure. None of the spies or scouts from other nations have lived to tell about it.”

”But still... watching how powerful Armand is, despite having such a small force fighting against... what, roughly 10,000?”

”Yeah... let’s hope we never get on Armand’s bad side.”

”I don’t want that either.”

”Let’s retreat and report this to our commander. Maybe he knows, or perhaps he can go to Lord Garzin and ask for confirmation.”

”Y... yeah... let’s retreat.”

Meanwhile.

Tybalt Estate, Meeting Room.

Garzin’s eyes were wide, Kayra had fallen completely silent. They were both watching the live feed displayed from the small metal cube Javier had placed on the table earlier. A high-definition holographic image showed the battlefield from multiple angles, aerial views from the Sky Eyes and ground-level perspectives from Javier’s puppet knights.

Javier, who was leaning back in his chair, his head resting against Gloria’s chest as she stood behind him, kept his gaze fixed on Garzin.

”So now you believe me? That Armand’s army is here and helping you ’chase’ the enemy from your border?”

( End Of Chapter )