Reborn As Noble

Chapter 654: Blood, Magic, and Madness ( 654 )

Halfling Kingdom. Dawn.

The sky beyond the shattered windows of the royal palace was tinged with grey-blue, the first light of morning creeping across the blood-smeared stone.

Smoke curled in the air. Cracked marble. Crushed pillars. The lingering stench of scorched flesh and broken mana seals.

King Gurdan, barefoot and calm, stood at the center of the ruined throne hall. His body pulsed with glowing divine marks, his expression relaxed—almost bored.

“Oho~” he chuckled, turning his head toward the crumpled shadows still breathing in the rubble.

“Don’t tell me this… is the extent of King Edmund’s so-called special unit?” he said lightly, almost disappointed.

“A mystery squad, was it? The Human Kingdom’s little ghost story?”

A low, ragged breath answered him.

Seventh, blood dripping from his forehead, coughed and wiped his mouth with a trembling hand. His wild grin had faded. His body twitched with pain.

“…Shit,” he growled under his breath. “I didn’t think a Celestial Vessel would be this damn powerful.”

All around him, the other members of the Seventh were sprawled across the battlefield—burnt, slashed, coughing, but alive.

First knelt, barely keeping balance, one hand pressed to his bleeding side.

Second leaned against a fractured column, her daggers broken, expression grim.

Fourth was invisible again, flickering, likely hiding in emergency stealth.

Fifth floated weakly above, sparks flickering around his charred robe.

Sixth had one spear broken in half, standing upright, face calm despite blood soaking through her coat.

Third—silent, standing, panting.

Seventh clicked his tongue. “Tch… Not even halfway done and we’re already—”

“Don’t look down on yourself now,” Gurdan interrupted, stepping toward them with a slow, deliberate stride.

The floor cracked beneath his bare feet with each step. His aura still rumbled across the chamber like distant thunder.

“You made me stretch a little,” Gurdan admitted with a small smile. “Most don’t even get that much.”

His voice dropped—playful, dangerous.

“Come on… entertain me more, Special Units~”

Seventh vanished in a blur of bloodlust and cracked mana.

A split-second later, he reappeared behind Gurdan, blade already mid-swing, slicing toward the king’s exposed neck with terrifying speed.

CLANG!

The strike met resistance—not skin, not armor—but a gold ring.

Gurdan’s hand had flicked up at the last instant, his pinky casually intercepting the blow.

The blade stopped cold.

The impact sent a shockwave through the air, but Gurdan didn’t flinch.

He tilted his head, eyeing the ring.

“Aww~” he cooed mockingly. “You left a tiny scratch… on my favorite gold ring.”

Seventh’s eyes widened.

Before he could react—

“Now!” barked First.

Fourth, from a high angle, uncloaked mid-air and released a burst of compressed light needles. At the same time, First cast a spiraling beam of obsidian-black magic—twisting with a cursed mana core aimed directly at Gurdan’s chest.

Both attacks roared through the air with perfect timing.

Gurdan yawned.

He raised his left hand lazily, fingers spread open—

A flawless, instant magic barrier erupted outward in a dome of golden light.

The light needles shattered against it.

The cursed beam cracked, fizzled, and dissolved on impact.

No strain. No recoil. Not even a step back.

“Yawn~” Gurdan smirked, stretching his arms like he’d just woken from a nap.

“Too wicked, too sloppy.”

His golden eyes sharpened with amusement as he turned toward them.

“I heard Edmund used his own blood to unlock all your potential…” Gurdan muttered.

“Bloodline enhancement, soul unshackling, combat instincts pushed to the edge. A full investment.”

He clicked his tongue and smirked.

“But if this is all you’ve got—”

He spread his arms.

“—then I seriously wonder… how that bastard Edmund raises his dogs.”

Gurdan sighed, glancing lazily at the ruined ceiling, a hand resting casually on his hip.

“Hmm… where the hell is my elite guard?” he muttered.

He took a step forward, broken tiles crunching beneath his bare feet.

“…Ah, right,” he said with a soft smirk. “I think you and your little dog team already killed them.”

He gave a slow, almost appreciative nod.

“Good job… on killing my Seventh. Never thought they were that weak. But you managed.”

His eyes swept over the battered assassins, still standing—still fighting despite their wounds.

Then his tone changed.

Low. Deep. Hungry.

“Now…”

“You all should just surrender—and let me devour you.”

A sinister grin curled across his face, golden tattoos flaring brighter with each heartbeat.

“My Celestial inside me is… twitching. Salivating. It can’t wait to eat you.”

His voice dropped to a whisper, almost sensual.

“Mmm… I bet you’ll taste good.”

The temperature in the room dropped—spiritual pressure surged outward like a crushing tide.

“And besides…” Gurdan raised one hand slowly.

“I haven’t even used partial form yet.”

That was the signal.

All at once—

Third surged forward with a fist charged in volcanic earth magic.

Second blinked past Gurdan’s flank, her new daggers glinting with wind-blades.

Sixth launched twin cursed spears from both hands.

Fifth let loose a barrage of high-velocity lightning orbs from above.

Fourth, now invisible again, circled behind to lay trap runes.

First began chanting a short incantation—preparing a collapse-level spell.

Seventh charged straight ahead, blade whirling, laughing like a maniac again.

Close-range and long-range attacks rained down from all directions.

Explosions. Bursts. Slicing winds. Lightning crackles. Bloodlust.

Gurdan grinned, his teeth sharp, glowing tattoos across his arms pulsing with restrained hunger.

“Ah~ if I tried to devour one of you now…” he muttered, voice rich with amusement,

“…I bet the rest would run.”

His eyes gleamed, flicking toward First, then Second, then back to Seventh, who was still charging straight toward him with reckless fury.

“And besides… I haven’t had a good warm-up in a while.”

He cracked his knuckles.

“Let’s have some fun first.”

BOOM!!

In a blur of movement, Gurdan’s fist smashed directly into Seventh’s face—a straight, brutal blow.

Seventh’s head snapped back, his body flipping midair before crashing through a stone pillar, shattering it on impact.

The air rippled from the sheer force. Dust scattered.

Gurdan didn’t even move his feet.

He tilted his head with a wide, maniacal grin, golden eyes blazing.

“Aren’t you the one…”

He took a slow, mocking step forward.

“…who said this would be over fast?”

He lifted his foot and stomped, sending a shockwave through the floor, cracking the stone tiles in a wide radius.

“Come on,” he called out, voice filled with twisted glee.

“You’re King Edmund’s best dogs, aren’t you? Where’s that bite?”

( End Of Chapter )

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