Reborn As Noble

Javier fell silent for a moment, his gaze drifting across the battlefield. He looked at his soldiers, their faces calm and relaxed, trusting in the barrier and the gear he had provided. He looked at the enemy, still firing at the illusion, their arrogance growing with every passing moment.

He let out a long, slow exhale before speaking, his voice quieter.

”They’re warriors, Father.”

”Then let them fight like warriors. Remove the barrier. Remove the illusion. Let them face the enemy with their own strength, their own skills, and their own courage.”

Garius paused, his voice firm.

”They already have every advantage. The pekko are not just fast, they are intelligent monster birds, capable of using magic, evading attacks, and even fighting back. Their tactical magic gear is the finest in the world. Their assault mana rifles are far beyond anything the enemy possesses. They are not going into battle unarmed or unprepared. They are going into battle as the most well-equipped soldiers on this continent.”

”B... but Father...”

”No, Javier.” Garius’s voice cut through the protest, firm and final. ”I know you care about the safety of our soldiers. So do I. I know you want to make sure every single one of them goes home safely. But that doesn’t mean you can take away their purpose as soldiers. You think you are being merciful by shielding them from harm, believing you have outsmarted the cruelty of war.”

Garius’s voice grew heavier, carrying the weight of a ruler who had seen countless battles and understood their true cost.

”Listen to me closely. A soldier does not exist merely to carry a sword; he exists because a nation has decided that its way of life, its children, and its future are worth dying for. When a man takes the oath to serve, he hands you his life on a promise. Loss in battle is inevitable. It is the terrible, fundamental arithmetic of rule and strategy. If you try to eliminate that risk entirely, you do not save your people. You diminish them. You rob them of their duty, their honor, and their right to fight for their own home. You turn brave men into passive spectators waiting for a commander to solve every problem for them.”

He paused, letting the words sink in.

”I am sending you and our men into the field today not because I value their lives less than you do, but because I understand that the strength of a nation is built on the courage of its people, not the cleverness of its technology. If you truly want to protect them, trust them. Trust their training, their judgment, and their will to fight. Plan a battle they can win with their own hands, not one you win for them with illusions and barriers.”

Garius’s voice dropped, heavy with finality. ”Remember this, Javier. A commander who cannot bear the sight of his own men dying will soon bear the sight of his entire country burning. Mercy without wisdom is not kindness. It is weakness. And weakness, in a ruler, is the cruelest thing you can give your people.”

Javier closed his eyes for a moment before nodding slowly. ”...Understood, Father.”

He raised his palm, and the shimmering barrier around his troops flickered and faded. The illusion on the empty plain dissolved, revealing the truth to the enemy. The clear pool vanished, leaving only the scattered remnants of the enemy’s wasted attacks.

The soldiers around him stiffened, their hands instinctively moving toward their weapons as the reality of the battlefield settled over them.

Javier’s voice rang out, calm and steady.

”All units. Prepare for combat. This time, we fight for real.”

”Yes, Your Highness!”

Javier tapped his mana talkie, ensuring the channel was open for all units before barking his orders.

”All units, split into five forces of two hundred! Now!”

The riders moved with practiced precision, the pekkos surging into formation as the thousand riders divided into five distinct groups.

”First and Second Forces! Target the heavy cavalry units on both flanks! They’re exposed outside the battlement! Use your pekkos’ speed to close the distance before they can form up! Hit them hard and fast, then break away!”

The two forces peeled off, their pekkos surging forward with incredible acceleration, their massive legs eating up the ground in seconds.

”Third and Fourth Forces! Take position at a distance and provide cover fire! No more outdated Glocks! Use your mana rifles! Keep the enemy’s heads down while the cavalry forces engage!”

The two forces fanned out, riders raising their assault mana rifles, the barrels glowing with charged energy as they took aim at the battlements.

Javier turned to the remaining two hundred riders, his voice rising into a commanding roar.

”Fifth Force! With me! CHARGE!”

Buddy let out a thunderous squawk, his massive body surging forward with explosive speed. The two hundred riders followed close behind, their pekkos kicking up clouds of dust as they thundered toward the enemy lines.

At the battlement.

Kurashan’s eyes widened in disbelief as he saw the pekko riders completely unharmed, their attack having done nothing. But before he could shout another command, the pekko riders vanished in an instant.

Two split forces appeared at a distance, their mana rifles already raised. A barrage of compressed mana fire erupted toward them, the rapid shots tearing through the air like streaks of light.

The enchanted tower shields shattered the moment the mana bullets struck them, exploding into fragments of metal and magic. The magic knights behind them were riddled with holes, their reinforced full-plate armor pierced without mercy. Musketeers and cannoneers fell in droves, some with their heads blown apart, others collapsing with gaping wounds in their chests.

Screams filled the air as the barrage continued, relentless and devastating.

Kurashan and Guranjar ducked behind the ledge, their hearts pounding. Kurashan’s face was pale, his eyes wide with terror as he crawled toward the stairway, his movements frantic and desperate.

Guranjar gritted his jaw, peeking over the shattered ledge. The stone was cracked and crumbling, chunks of it blown away by the sheer force of the attack. He glanced at Kurashan, noticing the commander’s left hand was torn, the enchanted armor on his arm shattered and broken, blood dripping from the wound.

”Kurashan!”

Guranjar shouted, channeling his strongest barrier spell as he rushed toward the commander. He grabbed Kurashan by the collar of his armor and yanked him toward the stairway, pulling him behind the crumbling stone wall for cover.

”Your hand!”

”W... what?” Kurashan glanced in fear and confusion at Guranjar before checking his right hand, sighing in relief. Then his eyes drifted to his left side.

Where his left hand should have been, there was nothing but a torn, bloody stump. The shattered remains of his enchanted armor hung loosely from his arm, the metal twisted and broken.

Kurashan’s eyes widened, a look of pure, childlike panic spreading across his face. His lips trembled as he stared at the gaping wound, his mind struggling to process what had just happened.

Guranjar slapped him hard across the face, snapping him out of his shock. He grabbed Kurashan by the neck of his armor, shaking him roughly.

”We need to leave this place now! Do you understand me?! If we stay here, we’ll die too! Move!”

( End Of Chapter )