Reborn As Noble

Chapter 1147: The Letters from Defeated Lords ( 1147 )

Meanwhile.

Human Kingdom.

Somewhere inside the Royal Palace Private Room.

Kimar was furious.

”Don’t tell me we still haven’t completed the new weapon!!!” He glared at the robed figure standing before him with bowed head, along with several other robed figures in the room.

”Do you know how much I’ve already paid you and invested in this new weapon!? ”

”Your Majesty...”

”Fuckkkk!!” Kimar slammed his fist on the table, his face red with rage. ”We’ve been researching this for so long, and we’re still not advancing beyond matchlock muskets! Why can’t we use magic the way Armand does with their weapons!?”

”Your Majesty, if I may...” The lead robed figure stepped forward cautiously. ”The problem is... if we stuff a fire crystal into a musket, it releases too much heat all at once. The barrel melts or explodes before we can even fire. We haven’t found a way to control the mana release like Armand does. Their technology... it’s something we simply don’t understand yet.”

”Where is the Mages Division!? Didn’t we already develop explosive arrows and magic arrows!? Why can’t we just apply that to the new muskets!?”

”Your Majesty,” the robed figure replied, his voice strained with frustration. ”The principle is fundamentally different. An explosive arrow uses a slow-burning, stable enchantment woven into the shaft and fletching, it’s a gradual release, meant to detonate on impact. Magic arrows channel mana through the archer, not the weapon itself.”

He stepped closer, gesturing with his hands as if trying to shape the explanation in the air. ”A musket... it’s a tube. A sealed, confined space. When we try to channel raw mana or place an unstable crystal inside, the pressure builds instantly. There’s no gradual release, no way to control the surge. The metal isn’t enchanted to withstand it. It’s like... trying to contain a volcano in a glass bottle.”

Another robed figure added quietly, ”We’ve lost three forges and seven apprentices to barrel explosions just this month, Your Majesty. The mana conductivity of the iron we use is too inconsistent. Armand’s materials... they’re different. We don’t know how they treat their metal, what alloys they use, or what enchantments they layer into the very structure of their weapons.”

”Then why not use mithril!?” Kimar shouted, his voice echoing in the chamber.

”Your Majesty,” the lead robed figure replied, his tone weary. ”Mithril is exceptionally rare, and the sole supplier is Armand. They control the three highest-quality mines in the known world, producing not only mithril but also adamantite and other rare, mana-conductive ores. Since they closed their borders to strategic exports, we simply cannot acquire it in the quantities needed for production.”

Kimar’s chief advisor stepped forward, his expression grave.

”It’s not just the ores, Your Majesty. Armand is also the primary supplier of affordable foodstuffs. Since they severed direct trade, we’ve had to rely on the Beastkin Kingdom as a middleman, who themselves source from Armand and sell to us at a steep markup. Our economy is slowly bleeding, and our military research is stalled without the materials only Armand can provide in quantity and quality.”

Just as Kimar was about to unleash another torrent of rage, his face flushed and fists clenched.

A sudden knock echoed through the heavy door.

Kimar glared toward the entrance.

”Who is it!?”

”Your Majesty,” a voice called from the other side, tense but respectful. ”There is an urgent matter that requires your immediate attention.”

He turned his furious gaze back to the robed figures and advisors in the room.

”I don’t want to hear any more excuses! You have one month. Either show me progress, or your heads will roll across this floor.”

”As you command, Your Majesty,” they replied in unison, bowing deeply.

Kimar shot them one last seething look before striding toward the door, his chief advisor falling into step behind him.

He yanked the door open to find one of his royal officers standing rigidly outside.

”What is so important that you dare interrupt my private meeting?” Kimar demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

”Your Majesty,” the royal officer bowed deeply. ”There is a report and a sealed letter that requires your immediate review.”

”Letter from who!?” Kimar snapped, his patience already worn thin.

”From Lord Turka and Lord Garka, Your Majesty,” the officer explained.

”Those two?” Kimar sneered, his anger flaring again. ”Since when do their squabbles become important enough to interrupt my private meeting?”

”No, Your Majesty,” the officer insisted, his tone growing more urgent. ”It’s far more serious than that.”

Kimar snorted dismissively before turning one last glare toward the robed figures still bowing inside the private room. ”Make sure I see results in the next month!”

He stormed past the officer, and striding down the corridor toward the throne room, his advisor and the officer hurrying to keep pace.

Once he arrived at the throne room, he sat heavily on his throne.

He reached for his drink, poured by one of the attending ladies, and took a long sip, his expression still dark.

He glared up at the officer who had interrupted his private meeting earlier.

”So? Where is this report you mentioned, and those two letters you said were so important? Huh?”

The officer bowed again, taking a few steps back before signaling the royal guard to present the report and the letters.

Kimar barely glanced at the report and the two sealed letters placed on the table beside him.

”Hah! What could possibly be so important about these letters, anyway?” he scoffed, reaching for the one from Turka first. ”I bet they’re just asking for more weapons, as usual.”

Kimar smirked and broke the wax seal, casually pulling out the parchment. He began reading, his eyes scanning the lines with mild disinterest, until they widened. His smirk vanished, replaced by a look of shock, then boiling fury.

”Impossible...” he muttered, his grip tightening on the paper.

He read it again, his face turning red, then pale, then red again. Before he could finish, he shot up from his throne, the letter crumpling in his fist.

”GARIUSSSSSSS!!!!!!”

( End Of Chapter )