Reborn As Noble

Chapter 717: Mad King’s Last Stand ( 717 )

Edmund’s dark aura pulsed again.

He leaned forward, eyes bloodshot, his voice trembling with frenzy.

“I want to see you scream when your little machines are shattered. I want to see you beg when your last drone falls.”

He spread his arms wide toward the sky.

“Ahhh… and when your puppets are broken… you can crawl back to your mama…”

He sneered cruelly.

“Go suck her tits with your snot-covered face, little boy.”

Only the storm of madness in Edmund’s eyes moved, violent, endless, filled with hatred.

“Soon, boy… soon.”

He smiled again.

“I will devour your power… with your screams still ringing in the air.”

“And I’ll grip your head…” Edmund growled, his voice like thunder behind a storm, “while you’re still alive… still breathing… still struggling.”

His eyes widened ,full of madness, lips pulled into a sneer.

“I’ll drag you before your father… and your precious Mother.”

He thrust his hand forward as if gripping something invisible, squeezing tight.

“I’ll make them watch, watch you cry, watch you beg, hear you scream like a child asking for his mother.”

“And that moment… that moment, Francesca…”

His voice dropped to a whisper, like venom curling on the tip of a blade.

“You’ll finally kneel.”

“You’ll beg to save your son… or your husband.”

His eyes flared crimson.

“And when you realize you can’t save them both, when your pride shatters and your heart breaks, you’ll come to me.”

Edmund’s twisted laughter echoed once more.

“You’ll come to me… as my woman.”

“Choose! Francesca!!” he shouted toward the sky, drunk on his own cruelty. “Your husband… or your son!!”

He stood up, arms outstretched in mock worship.

“Let the world witness it!! Let every kingdom know, when Armand burns, when their walls fall, when the prodigy breaks…”

His grin widened beyond sanity.

“…Francesca De Armand will finally belong to me.”

“Look, boy!! Look!!” Edmund roared, his voice rising above the thunder of explosions.

He pointed toward the advancing wave of massive black golems, each one enduring the impact of mana missiles with heavy, thunderous steps. Their shattered arms or cracked torsos healed in real-time as veins of dark mana pulsed through their cores.

“You see that?!ʼ” he shouted, eyes gleaming with twisted joy. “Your fancy toys can’t do anything! My golems take your hits, and they repair themselves!!!!”

He spread his arms wide as his army pushed forward, relentless.

“You can’t destroy what doesn’t die, you arrogant little brat!! As long as I’m here, they won’t fall!! The mages won’t fall! The soldiers won’t fall!”

He leaned forward, baring his teeth.

“And your precious mana? It’s limited. Weak. Just like you.”

Edmund’s sneer deepened. “But mine?”

He slammed his foot onto the ground, a ring of dark cracks pulsed outward, creating a ring of oppressive force.

“Infinite! Celestial! Eternal!!”

Edmund smirk, slowly stepped out of his barrier dome, right into the path of several attacking drones.

The sound of whirring gatling mana guns echoed across the battlefield.

Mana bullets tore into him, ripping off his right arm in a brutal spray of blood and flesh.

But Edmund didn’t flinch.

He smiled.

Dark miasma hissed and spiraled from the severed stump, then rapidly twisted and reformed his missing limb, black muscle and bone snapping back together like a grotesque puzzle.

Ten seconds.

That’s all it took.

His hand flexed, newly restored and surging with power.

He lifted it toward the sky.

“THIS—” he roared, “IS THE POWER OF A CELESTIAL!!”

His voice echoed like a curse.

“And I… am the one who commands it.”

He pointed toward the distant Armand region.

“FRANCESCA—!!” he howled.

“I’LL MAKE YOU MINE!!!”

Both arms now raised high, dark mana raged around him like a storm swallowing the sky.

“THIS WORLD IS MINE!!”

Meanwhile, at Javier’s position…

He let out a deep yawn, stretching slightly as he leaned back against a rock. His eyes were hidden behind the glowing blue tint of his mana glasses. The live feed from Sky Eye hovered in the upper left of his vision, showing a wide, zoomed-out view of the battlefield far in the distance.

“…What a stupid human,” Javier muttered.

He adjusted his glasses slightly, observing the chaos on Edmund’s side. The resurrected mages, the summoners, the regenerating golems, plus the frantic screams of a mad king who thought he was invincible.

“Every living thing has limited mana,”

“Even if they have a huge pool… just like a certain someone.”

A slow, mocking smirk curled on his lips.

“And that idiot thinks my missile launchers are draining my mana?” He scoffed. “Seriously… what a moron.”

The field around him flickered faintly with a shimmering, ethereal glow. The sky above was calm, no dark clouds, no screaming, only distant flashes and soundless tremors across the plains.

“All around us is mana,” he said softly, watching another wave of missiles launch. “The only difference is… raw mana isn’t usable. Not directly. Not like the mana inside people, monsters, or creatures.”

He paused, tapping a finger against the frame of his glasses.

“It needs a converter. A medium. In Kenjirou’s case, it was his divine sword. In mine…”

Javier grinned wider.

“I built my own.”

He turned and looked toward the sleek, black mana missile launchers lined up along the ridge behind him. Their surfaces gleamed faintly in the moonlight, and beneath each one, glowing inscriptions of magic-tech pulsed rhythmically in blue and white. Runes only he understood.

The hum of raw energy filled the air around them.

Converting ambient mana into pure destructive power.

No mana cost. No delay. No fatigue.

Javier gently placed his hand on the side of one launcher, its rune lights flashing in response to his touch.

“I learned this when I was a small boy,” he whispered. “Even before that idiot Kenjirou was summoned to this world.”

He stepped back, hands behind his back, facing once more toward the horizon.

“And that’s why, Edmund…”

He narrowed his eyes.

“You’re not fighting a noble brat…”

His mana glasses glinted sharply in the moonlight.

“You’re fighting the future.”

Inside Javier’s mind.

Yes, Edmund. I applaud how strategic your thinking is.

Javier’s gaze remained calm and distant, observing the distant flames and chaos through the clarity of his mana glasses.

If you attacked Armand with that kind of force, without my magic inventions… yes, you’d slowly wear us down. That much is certain.

A quiet breath escaped him, almost a sigh.

Our region’s current force—120,000 elite personnel. Each twice as strong as any typical kingdom’s army. Even compared to yours, Edmund… without your dark mana enhancements, your soldiers would be just common fodder.

But even then, Armand would resist.

His expression sharpened, thoughtful.

Because the man you’d truly be fighting would be my father, the master strategist, Garius De Armand.

A faint smirk touched Javier’s lips. The slightest hint of pride.

He would make you bleed for every step, Edmund. Every inch of Armand you’d take would cost you dearly. You’d exhaust your strength just to break through the first wall.

( End Of Chapter )

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